The mare felt comforted by the God’s gifts to her and her kin. It gave her a sense of belonging, and not since she had walked upon her birthlands had she felt that way. The comfort in knowing that her strength of character was being recognised, her efforts in creating a safety net for herself and those she cared about was supported. The rage of the Sun Lord was a challenge enough for her to meet alone, but added with the responsibility she had obtained as WeyrLeader she had a lot on her plate.

The little shadow of the lands didn’t quite know what brought her to the lands of burning volcanic ash, her memories of this land were not all positive. The great gaping mouth of Helovia’s Heart charred the body of the ugly brute that had tried to force his will upon her. Forget. It was all Akaith had to say to the vague, smoky images of the disgusting stallion, whom she had helped slay with her bonded. The act of murder was something that haunted the mare, however.

She did not like to be a murderer. But there was no way to change it now.

A sigh left her as she looked upon the charcoal lands. She had not been gifted with the magical cloaks that would allow her to walk closer to the gaping wound on the lands that was the great flaming sinkhole. Her brothers had, though theirs was not as strong as Couth’s. A smile hinted at the edge of her lips as she realised it was the pale Pegasus whose presence she had followed here, and her golden eyes caught but a glimpse of her before the smoky veil of the Moon Goddess’ gift shrouded her body.

The queenly dragon darted out towards her, chirruping a greeting, her own scaled hide impervious to the effects of the flames. Though it was hot for the mare, she beared it out, her hard hooves not feeling the heat, but her recently singed forelegs certainly did, she was reluctant to stand still with them facing the mouth of lava, and so positioned her body on a bit of an angle, shifting her weight often, looking at her dragon with the draconically winged mare bathe in the flames of the Heart.

“Tread with care, Couth. Though you are gifted, I do not want my newest sister of the sky to be singed.” Her voice rang loud over the edge, she did not need to speak louder to project it, but rather her melodic tones became deeper, and stronger, clearer, so that they would travel the distance that separated she from them. She had to admit, she was interested in seeing exactly what the temporary gifts of the Goddess of the Moon were capable of.