Solitary confinement. It was enforced by the mare herself, the default reaction she had when she was faced with a pain that ran deeper than flesh alone. Cloaked in an illusion that only allowed snippets of her inky form to be spied at a time, the mare lingered in the shadows, the darkness of the forest, the same sort of environment she had been born into. None could console her, even the presences of her mate and children were met with feigned peace, something that took great effort, but was ultimately good for her. The struggle to contain that strange, unstable sensation of darkness coated with flames had been lifelong; it had broken free at random intervals, despite her determination to control it.

There was one saving grace to her terrible tormented thoughts.

Akaith.

How many years had the dragon been by her side? The little golden one knew her bonded almost better then she knew herself, she cradled the shadow mare's soul in her own gleaming one, supporting it, carrying it, refusing to let it succumb to the torment of her own inner demons.

You are needed.
How did I come to be this?
You have always been a dragon, a queen.
What if I don't want to be?
You would forsake your kin?
I am tired of love.

And so the conversation went on, with the dragon consoling her bondmate with direct, loaded questions and the little shadowmare responding with dull, dry snippets in return. Akaith did everything she could to help the mare, but it was impossible to scratch at the surface of her depression, her grief, so consumed by it she was. Dead, Akaith. Torasin and Solstice… As if the little dragon needed reminding, for the common thought that kept on appearing in her bonded's mind was that image of blood on a golden and ivory pelt, the lifeless stare that peered from the vacant emerald eyes, the still, cold, stiff little body of the brown dragon that laid on top… The golden dragon, flying low and slow above her bonded, would swiftly shut the thoughts out, blocking them from both her and Mirage's mind.. But they kept on resurfacing, breaking through the shield the dragon kept remaking, threatening again and again to drown the mare and bondmate alike in sorrowful depression.

This must stop.
There is a cliff I could leap off without summoning my wings.
You know I would never allow that.
I know.
So stop thinking about it.
You know as well as I do how.. Impossible, that is right now.
It is not impossible.

With a surprising, immense display of power, the dragon then landed upon her bonded's nape, tail lashing ungently across her spine, claws clinging to the silken tendrils of black mane. Just as abrupt as her physical landing, did she dive into the depths of her bonded's very mind, and literally chased away the negativity that was threatening to overwhelm the DragonHeart. She wasn't entirely successful, it was too early to banish the depression in its entirety just yet, but it was better - it gave both of them some small relief, at least. Words of gratitude were not needed, as in the wake of the motion, the mare dropped her illusionary cloak and stood, bathing in the mists of her home, letting them simply roam over her, through her legs. Within them, she entertained the notion that she could feel Torasin's warm embrace once more, even though the chilly caress of the mists was quite a different thing.

It was now that the mare heard the call, the summons, the request for her company - company she was now much more inclined to give. Akaith purred, before the sound evolved into a gentle trill as she took to the sides again, much more at peace with her bonded, not needing to expend so much energy in fighting with one whom she cared for more than her own life. Mirage turned to the cliffside borders of her home, moving with a long, smooth gait that would put her by the side of her fellow WeyrLeader in a matter of moments. Reaching out to him with her inky muzzle, the mare was more reserved then she previously had been when greeting him, resisting the urge to press her petite form along his side - she was typically afraid of allowing any to get too close to her, out of fear of the pain she suffered when they were inevitably taken from her.

The problem was, they were already too close, too dear to her dragon's heart.

"Thor." Her deep, melodic tones painted the word with the skill of a fine artist on the canvas of the atmosphere between them. Golden eyes regarded him quietly, drinking his expressions, his posture, trying to read the reason behind her summons today. There was much they needed to discuss; the Edge needed leaders who were in sync in order to survive. She knew he suffered from a lack of confidence in his own skills - she wished he could see himself from her eyes, from the herd's eyes, so he could see a stallion who is a natural leader, a caring and devoted friend and father, a protective steed who only seeks to nurture and aid those in need, without seeking anything in return. The mare often wondered why she was followed so easy - she was leader not because she had sought to be, they had called her their queen and she had accepted the title, and all that came with it.

The crown of a leader was not an easy one to bear.

"Speak to me, what troubles my beloved GentleHeart this day?"