Moments passed, and many an observation was made. From the sparsely coated splotches of ivory through to the musculature beneath, she was able to hazard a guess at the age of the vibrant young steed, as well as his general knowledge of dragons and even perhaps, his expectations of Helovia. He did not seemed surprised to see Akaith, at least, not in the same respects that she had seen others respond to the golden dragon - and he seemed to assess and reassess his manners towards the shadow mare herself, which caused a mental smirk to be shared between dragon and bonded. But he was respectful, and wiling enough, it seemed, to prove that he was worth her attention. Golden eyes from both dragon and equine viewed his gesture of a flourished nod, approving of it, for it was a custom from their lands of old, their birthlands, that they had carried with them throughout life, and only occasionally had others know and reciprocate it. Such a simple notion - a bow, an acknowledgement - that carried so much weight. As she heard the names of not only himself, but his lineage, she had to wonder at her luck in crossing paths with him this evidently fateful evening.

The name which labelled him was draconic in its essence, and the mare was educated enough in dragonlore to know that with his parents having both bonded, it was surely only a matter of time before he found his lifemate as well. Dragomir, she repeated to herself, knowing that her mate would enjoy meeting him without even knowing much more about him. Requiem resonated within her as well, as she reflected on her times in Isilme, a gathering of those who were bonded with dragons - there were a great many there, and Akaith was better than she at remembering all who came. Bronze. She spoke with assured certainty, just as Mirage noted that the gold would have been but a hatchling at the time of their meeting. Adalwulf was a name she knew slightly better, having had a small handful of encounters with him indirectly, as well as the constant repetition of his title and his deeds jumping up at her throughout history of the land. Even as she considered it, she wondered whether this stallion held the same ideals as his father, the same supremacist yearnings, the same desire to exterminate all who were different just because of the extra appendages on their body.

She wondered whether she should just walk away from him.


But then, the DragonHeart had been known to offer chances, to seek information, if only for the chance that in the future, that information could prove useful, life-saving, life-changing. "Dragomir, it is a pleasure." Her voice was warmly and smooth, reminiscent of honey and silk, her façade honest as her eyes sought to hold his in a deep and penetrable stare. "I am Mirage, and this is Akaith." With a tilting gesture of her crown, she allowed the queenly dragon to lean her forepaws upon her nape, to stretch her own elongated serpentine out and test the air with a forked, barbed tongue. "What do you seek from Helovia, Dragomir?" The mare was not one to provide information without first receiving it, and so she voiced the query with a gentle pointedness, her gaze unwavering as her interest was conveyed through the subtle curiosity painting her tones. Just what was he doing here? What did he have planned for himself? Was he to enter these lands and attempt to overthrow them, much like his father? Or did he simply want to etch a living out for himself by serving others, or perhaps seeing if he could survive it alone, in the wilds. Either way, the little shadow mare was very interested in this Dragomir.