As I focussed upon my beloved, I watched as she observed the fallen one regain her consciousness, and awaken. The dark limbs that carried the stormy pelt above stepped back, giving space for the creature of feathers, sinew and limbs to rise, fearing that as she did so, she would surely hurt herself again. But the mare seemed to gather her feet beneath her with relative ease - though her wits were still somewhat scattered. Taking another step back, I had to sigh at the fear that my presence invariably triggered - but I did not leave my beloved's side, both physically and mentally, for her own mind was still feeling the effects of the magic she wielded with such expertise, and I had to be there, to help her. She stammered a jumble of words, emphasising her fear of my canine form - I merely tilted my head at her, lolling my tongue out to the side and panted, knowing full well that while this was the canine expression of relaxation, it could be read as something totally different. Words from the pale equine mare caught our attention then, as Cirrus and my head's both turned to view the one called Accalia. Her words were.. Confusing. Did she not see me here, standing beside my bondmate? Did she not feel the warmth from the fire that danced along my spine? I whined lowly, the sound not that different to a growl, but with a distinctively less aggressive tone to it. My bonded took more offence to this affront, and immediately stepped towards the equine, unafraid to get in her face about the issue.

"Are you blind?" She asked bluntly, actually genuinely curious to know whether the mare could not see me. Turning her attention back to the dark pegasus, annoyance still lining her posture, she spoke in matter-of-factual tones, ears tilting slightly as they threatened to be swallowed by her haphazardous mane. "You fell plenty hard. I healed you - couldn't have you dying face first in the snow. Sitka is my bondmate, he shall not harm you." Unless I asked him to. Her thoughts reverberated in her cranium, and I wondered if they were true. I was loyal to the death of my beloved one, but I was capable of making my own decisions too - I did feel like chewing on the leg of the equine mare for her ignorance, but refrained, knowing that it would not help the situation. "Why the fuck would you think strolling in a snowstorm is lovely?" The attention of my beloved had turned back to the equine, wondering what kind of drugs she was on. Since her study of the healing arts, her knowledge of different herbs and what they could do had expanded dramatically, she knew that some could alter one's state of mind - was this equine affected by one, or more, such things? "Oh," the little storm-hued mare murmured, as I interjected upon her brain a sense of restraint, a gentle reminder that she was yet to illuminate the gathered of her own name. "I'm Cirrus, hailing from the Dragon's Throat, a desert land, south of here." And sure as hell warmer too.

I had to be amused at my beloved's spitfire tendency to jump before she thought about the landing. Her wicked tongue and forthright sense of righteousness was sometimes misplaced, but she meant well, and truly, she was an incredible soul - I certainly felt honoured to share links with it. Around us, the weather shifted, the storm still raging overhead battered against the magical 'bubble' she had constructed, and as I felt the pressure of holding onto her magic increase, I felt her consciously shift the hold she grasped onto of her magic - a breeze, chilly, icy like that which carried snow around us, stole a path through the gathering, all the more colder due to the warmth that had previously comforted us. The pegasus youth that shared my soul snorted lightly, before wandering back to my side, touching the crown of my skull with the smooth, velvet touch of her lips, before looking over her shoulder to the dark, shadowy pegasus. "You're welcome to follow me to shelter if you like." Turning her sharp, icy gaze to the equine mare, she locked away the name of the band she claimed to be a part of (or was she their leader? She did say my band, after all) - the name itself was enough to deter Cirrus. Assassins ran along the lines of ones who killed, either for reward, or simply pleasure. Cirrus was a healer, though she was keen to know how to defend herself (and had learned a fair bit when her father was still alive), she had no desire to associate herself with one who belonged to a group that openly paraded their desires for death. Turning herself away from the gathering with barely another glance, she folded her wings down more tightly (so that they wouldn't be pried open by the cutting wind and break against the nearby naked boughs of the surrounding forest), and began walking.

I lingered behind for merely a moment, looking between each soul with quiet curiosity, wondering if either of them would seek further attention from my beloved. Huffing slightly, I too then turned away, walking smoothly in the wake of my beloved, forever grateful that now she was upon the ground and not so focussed on the distraction of guiding the wind beneath her wings, she could focus upon merely warming the bubble of air that surrounded us.

[She's not gone totally, she's just never been a recruiter, lol. :P]