[ OOC: Lol it's ironic that Semira showed up. I was just talking to Neo about how I was unsure as to how he would respond to the dragon hybrids; guess I'll find out now? x3 ]

The snap of branches drew a curious and quick gaze of pale crystal towards the source of the sound, the young stallion briefly startled and amazed by the image that was appearing from the mist and trees; her face shimmered, it's surface covered in scales that etched themselves along her frame, the facets of the strange skin capturing and then returning the gleam from the ethereal lighting. From her shoulders, pale, leathery wings stretched heaven-wards, her child's hooves remarkably graceful for her age, and he found himself rudely staring at the strange hybrid of horse and dragon. Aarde guide me, he thought, dropping his eyes to hooves to avoid being disrespectful to her, fearful of the wrath of Mirage should she find out he arrived within the Edge only to start a fight with a filly.

As she drew closer, he found her face to not only be adorned with scales, but also the golden image of a dragon curled about one of her bright, amber eyes. Eyes like Mirage, mused the youth, who was not as naive as others his age and took care to examine every situation for facts deciphered by merely looking. When it came to what people said, he was less observant, but he hoped that time would lend him talents in the field of conversation. For now, he was merely the child of the Dragon Isle, son to a fallen queen and king of a kingdom that had since been destroyed, and in the seconds it took for the filly to speak after she stopped in front him, he felt the weight of his lonely predicament heavily upon his shoulders. That he must be kind to this child, no matter how much her appearance plagued at his heart, because she was the key to a life here, made him feel rather ill within himself, though he attempted to apply a friendly smile to his features that still came across rather strained.

Her voice was lilting and gentle, similar to the accent and pitch of the DragonHeart who had guided him to the burning wood. Is this the sound of Helovia? He found that her tones were pleasant as he had found the ebonite lady's to be, and that for some reason, this child also made him feel comfortable that he was not going to die at the hands of her strangeness. A glance was given to her hooves as he bowed his head in greeting, relief meeting his heart as he realized she would not be shredding him to pieces with her claws on this day; the filly had none. "Greetings," rumbled the painted stallion, his nerves and generally quiet demeanor keeping him from speaking any more than that, still unable to keep from sweeping his eyes across her peculiar build at random intervals as his curiosity outwitted his resolve to not gawk.