the Rift


[OPEN] Ashes Into Earth

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#1
[ OOC; Dragomir has brought some comfrey and yarrow to help heal up those wounded in the battle, if anyone is interested. Also, those who I've previously talked to about meeting up with him are very welcome. :D And I didn't post this under Illynx at first. Nopeeeee. ]

Fate; she curved under the moon, danced with the subtle movement of the air about his breathing nostrils, and all the time that he pondered her mysteries he pondered how rather fateful life seemed to be as of late. At first, he had figured only that his young heart simply aspired more from the world, logic coating his decision to venture to Helovia in the first place. That he had been taken in by none other than a queenly beauty known as Mirage, the DragonHeart, had ticked a few boxes in his coincidence registry, heightened by the appearance of her daughter, who was part of the obvious reason that the queen of the forest had the title she wore. While he was still unsure about the lady and the princess as far as whether he could trust them or if Aarde (or his father, for that matter) would have blasted them into oblivion or not by now. Regardless, he was incapable of blasting anyone he had met so far, as far as he was concerned, even young Semira, her innocent eyes and prettily crafted face among the myriad things he simply could not push out of his mind, one of the reasons that he found he could not strike at her as his father had trained him to do, despite that what made her, in part, so stunning to behold was the very fact that she was wrong.

Had Adalwulf ever been so conflicted in his youth? Dragomir found that he doubted the notion, quite severely.

What he did not doubt, however, was that his heart had not led him wrong to follow the gold marked shadow mare to her home; in one singular lesson with the resident healer, Dragomir had learned of four herbs to help with the easing of pain as well as to make bleeding slow or cease, the images of the plants fresh in his mind as he carried on with each passing day, making a note to himself to review the knowledge anytime he could afford the time. Sadly for him, there was a plethora of minutes at his disposal; his reclusive nature had left him with few friends, though he was beginning to recognize the faces of those who kept patrols, those who were crafters (as they tinkered away upon the wall), and other staple members of the herd. Their strangeness, however, kept him from drawing to close to any of them, the solitary male preferring to wander the woods when few others seemed to be out, retiring to a dense copse of trees with only one slender wildlife trail in and out that he had discovered near the edge of the forest, where the trees fell away to reveal a sprawling grassland.

Most recently, however, there had been an influx of war within the misty wood. Dragomir himself had remained far out of the line of combat, preferring to observe the struggles of those he had recently come to stay with rather than join in. It was not truly his fight; his only ties to World's Edge were that he slept here, perhaps a slender loyalty having grown within him for the Weyr Leader despite her poor choices in mates (if Semira was to be a guide at all). What had been curious to him, however, was that most of the invaders had been unicorns, and that prior to their arrival, he had witnessed several foals being led into the forest, each wearing a dainty and partially grown horn upon their brows. Perhaps it was another piece of the puzzle that had kept him from rushing in to assist the near strangers, that in a way, it seemed they had perhaps brought it on themselves, or simply it was a combination of lack of skill to provide and an overall lack of a reason to bleed.

It was not that he was afraid of battle; his father had trained him in basic combat maneuvers and had passed on numerous traits to his son that would provide him the strength of will to face danger, as had his mother. He simply was not one to face unnecessary peril for the sake of another's cause, either.

Despite his lack of involvement in combat, Dragomir did feel pressed to apply his newest knowledge in the field, and so while the madness had ensued at the front of the forest, he had taken the time to continue gathering some of the herbal components that Smoke had graciously taught him and the others who had arrived to her meeting. Not having any satchels as the practiced healer wore, he was left only to his own means, but Requiem had passed on to him a lesson without meaning to; he had bundled the stacks of plant matter together and bound them with long strands of Johnson grass from the sprawling meadow along the cliff, a trick learned while watching his mother gather foliage to make a bed to rest a healing dragon in. It had been a trick, searching for newly learned plants in the darkness, but he was sure by their taste and scent that he had discovered the right things: yarrow, for the bleeding, and comfrey, for the sore, the ends of the strong grass clenched between his teeth and the plants dangling from his lips in small bundles as he walked slowly through the front half of the forest, eyes searching for any who might require his assistance.


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Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath Whit
#2
Mirage knew all too well the feeling of hopelessness, helplessness that could consume one. She had felt it after Torasin had died, and then Solstice too, and now with more herdmates being declared missing, with the death of the soldier she had been fighting, with everything that had unfolded, the mare wondered how it was she gathered the strength to stand upon her sturdy legs. And yet, here she was. Standing alone, albeit for her dragon, in the wake of seeing the great Goddess of the Moon. Though the Goddess stood for darkness and wind, the world seemed duller, stiller as she faded from sight, and so Mirage merely blinked dumbly at the mists as they folded back down on themselves, realising with a harsh slap in the face that reality awaited her outside of the surrealistic world her meeting with the Goddess had been.

After departing company from her sister and the young mare who lingered there, the WeyrLeader and her dragon walked the mists of the land, feeling a new magic awaken within them. As she walked with the mists, she seemed to become the mists, a magic similar to her illusionary magic and yet completely different. It crawled up her legs, across the tendrils of her mane and tail, along her hide - and yet she shrugged it off, preferring her whole form now, even as she nursed tender muscles and bruises. Akaith murmured above her, taking to the skies. Tell me who is hurt, and where they lie. Mirage requested of her golden companion, who swiftly disappeared in the darkness and mists of their home. The peculiar jewel that now rested about her left foreleg shimmered in the night, its sheen seeming to take on the very shine of the moon itself. The DragonHeart's steps became smoother the more she moved, until she heard footsteps ahead.

"Dragomir!" Her called was genuinely glad, warm and welcoming. She was pleased to see him, pleased even that he would be witness to her family uniting against a foreign invader, and winning, proving that the strength of their bonds was stronger than their opinions of what adorned their skin. Noting the herbs that were clutched by his darkened muzzle, her smile seemed to evolve, to consume her entire facade. But of course he would take guidance from Smoke, for she was an equine, and bonded to a blue no less. "Have you found anyone in need of your skills yet?" Turning her crown about, she looked around, as if to help him find a fallen soldier. How do we fare, Akaith? she probed her beloved dragon, whose only reply was, none dead aside from yours.

@[Dragomir]
Mirage the DragonHeart

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Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#3
The Weyr Leader, he mused, the call of his name drawing curious features about to observe who had called them, but no Akaith.. It was not Semira, for this was a woman's call, and so he had half expected it to be Smoke taking note of the aspiring stallion's bundle of bitter (albeit useful) herbs. His smile was true on his lips, the young stag having found that in their short journey together from the Threshold to the Edge itself that Mirage held an element to herself that demanded respect. That she remembered him, and not just his face, made him truly happy, as he was sure that if he lived to be 5,000 years old, he would still recall the black mare and her golden dragon fondly and with ease. She had been the one to bring him here, after all; he would still be alone in the wilderness if not for her kindness, the chance she had given the misguided and rather lost young male. He was glad for her, if for no other reason than she was a face that he knew, for some reason he could not explain, he could come to rely on.

"Mm'lay-dee," he rumbled around the bundle in his mouth, having forgotten its presence in his enthusiasm for her arrival, his avalanche of a voice having grown deeper in the season since they had last met, nearing it's ultimate tone but still not it's deepest depths. His head bowed low as it had upon their first meeting, dark toned muzzle pressing against the line in the center of his chest, an added grandeur of a lifted limb in the fore as it's partner reaching out further across the loamy earth of the forest. Not intended for sarcasm or humor, it was still worthy of a chuckle or two from onlookers who knew anything of his lineage; the bow itself would have drawn an amused smirk to the lips of his mother, if she were to see it, and a snarl to that of Adalwulf's for his son being such a subordinate and easily won Tom, ideas that did not cross Dragomir's mind until he was once again standing tall and upright (and sending his brilliant smile into a momentary flicker of self-doubt), the discarded collection of herbs resting before his hooves.

He hoped, in the few awkward moments between meeting and the first dregs of conversation, that the smile upon his leader's face was true and meant for him. He was not aware of it himself, but his keen desire to be accepted by those he admired would drive most of his life along whatever path it would follow; he may have hidden the heart of a leader beneath his youthful obedience, but any such a soul raised by such a lord as Adalwulf could sense the aura of wisdom that leaked from Mirage's pores, and this soul in particular yearned for that smile to beam down upon him. In her, also, he felt a certain maternal protection, a comfort he had left behind far to the south and many miles of travel from here; perhaps she was a cure for homesickness. But wasn't any company?

She seemed to be even more illustrious today than she had upon the first meeting, and so with curious and eager eyes he awaited her words, his ears raising ever so slightly (not that they could raise much higher than they were now) as her voice embraced them. All the more pleased was his smile as her statement confirmed, to Dragomir, that her grin was one of true admiration, though he was saddened to have to tell her that he had thus been unsuccessful at finding anyone.

Perhaps because no one knew him but a child and a wisdom filled healer, a handful of others. Most would probably not even know his face. He'd spent much of his time in the Edge hiding in a copse of tightly packed trees that he'd discovered not to far from the cliff face he assumed the place had been called the World's Edge for. "No," he flatly stated, not wanting to delve into his nearly hermit like existence in the herd since arriving, though one of his sparse encounters would perhaps draw even more pleasure to the face of the ebonite queen if her daughter had not already mentioned their meeting. "Good thing, I guess. Not many were wounded if they cannot be found."

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Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath Whit
#4
The WeyrLeader had to wonder at what the youthful paint thought of the realm he had happened upon, was he beginning to grasp the way of life that she lived? The easy acceptance of those around him, no matter the shape of their body, the accessories they might be adorned with, the colour of their skin? Did he understand yet, that it was by one's soul within that Mirage judged a fellow being, not by what might or might not adorn their sides and brow? Perhaps, he understood that this was how she functioned, how she worked, how she thrived, but was as yet unable to embrace the thinking himself. Or perhaps, he understood everything she was trying to teach him, to show him, but had ulterior motives.. Would she ever be able to trust him, knowing the history of his father? Mirage always strove to live and judge by the actions of the being themselves, and so far, what had he proven to her? That he was quiet, perhaps, but also that he was willing to learn, at the very least, the arts of healing and comforting others. He was not unintelligent, this much she could see with ease, and he had a strong bodice - one that he had not used to defend this home he claimed as he owned, though they had Protectors enough without sacrificing the youngest, newest members of the herd onto the frontlines. Time would only tell whether he would survive here, and gain her true trust in the meantime.

The smile upon her lips softened with kind amusement as he fumbled over the leaves and herbs in his mouth to greet her, and she stepped forth to proffer a velvet lined muzzle to him to solidify the genuinuity of her greeting, even as he bowed low to offer his respect to her. Yes, he was an intelligent lad indeed, and Mirage noted which each passing moment just how he chose to spend each minute absorbing all that was around him. He was like a sponge, soaking up everything presented to him - but what would happen if he was pressured too much? Would he lose all the knowledge he had gained? Would he lose control, and revert into a being much like his father? You claim to withhold judgement until he has proven himself and yet all you think about is the father of the boy. Akaith rather sharply interjected as she was travelling, tired of the same repetitive thought cycle from her bonded. You are right, little dear. Mirage replied softly, steeling herself against the habit with a deep determination.

"The strike from the Basin was to be expected, we were well prepared. I only hope what you say is true." She left unsaid what she feared - that her family had been slaughtered, slayed, carried away. "Come, let us look together." She offered with a dip of her crown towards a starlit path, curving her bodice alongside him, her posture inviting him to move with her, much like it did when they first met. "As we walk, would you tell me of your time within the Edge so far? What have you learned?"

@[Dragomir]
Mirage the DragonHeart

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table by whit

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#5
If Mirage could read his mind, she would perhaps be disquieted. It was not a lack of understanding that made him hesitate to be open with his soul, but rather an abundance of information that held him his life in suspense, too many threads knitted into his young mind and not enough razors of experience to unbind them. He could understand very easily what Mirage attempted to see in her herd members, the glimmer of their gemstone spirits beneath whatever exterior they had been graced with, but the sight of wings stirred so many fears of retaliation his father had so heavily warned of within Dragomir that he might tremble if faced with a group of pegasi warriors from the Throat, and the unicorns in the forest had been no easier to accept or stomach. As he had been taught, they were volatile enemies, mask wearing fiends that, while they may seem amiable enough, would wait until the proper moment to rip your heart out. The proper way to deal with such beasts, Adalwulf had assured him, was to rip theirs out first.

But Semira had not been either of these things he was so warned of. Surely, hybrids were not high on the grey stallion's list, either, and so Dragomir still held tentative reservations about his meeting with the dragon child. Had she truly desired his company, his friendship, or had it been a ruse to gather information and get all that much closer to the chinks in his armor? The idea that the sweet girl had brought ill intent with her seemed foreign to Dragomir, but no less strange than she herself was. Ruminating upon what had come to pass on his first day in the misty wood left him feeling all the more lost and confused, leading to his awkward exploration of the battle field and the pleasant encounter now at hand.

He was no less lost, however, watching her emotions flicker across her face, the thoughts within her mind guarded from him by more than just his inability to read minds. Youth left him smiling stupidly at the black mistress as she in turn greeted him as was customary of the old blood equines. Uneasily his hooves shuffled as the woman spoke, her tones familiar (more so than anyone else's, at least) and the words bringing to light an observation he had already made; the battle had indeed been of their own fault, at least in a way. He didn't want to offend his queen, but he also could not shake the sight of the terrified foals being ushered in by the members of the Edge, either.

Now that he thought of it, he hadn't seen a one of them since they were brought in. Not that he had looked for them, but still, he looked upon his lead with a slightly hardened sort of gaze, wondering what sort of barbarism the unicorns had committed upon World's Edge that children were required as penance.

He nodded his agreement to the notion of moving forward even as his head was filled with the sight of the children and subsequent thoughts, the ebonite mynx slipping alongside his own brawny and painted frame much as she had on their first meeting. He walked with her slowly after lowering his crown to grab the bundle of herbs he had discarded, his eyes diverted to his hooves for most of the journey, though their bright blue gaze did occasionally rise to scan the forest for any one needing their help. Her question had left him quite befuddled, really, as all he could think of to tell her was that he had learned of herbs from a mare named Smoke; that, he hoped, would be obvious to the woman running the show, but having no better answer immediately at hand, that is where he began.

"I encountered a mare giving lessons on herbalism, called Smoke," he said gruffly, remembering the battle marked grulla well along with the faces of those who had attended the meeting, "there were also a pair of horses that I have seen working on the wall. The last runs patrols. I do not know their names." Feeling suddenly foolish for not having learned their callings, he quickly riffled through his thoughts for more to share with Mirage, finding little he could share other than his encounter with her daughter. "The first day, your daughter greeted my presence; Semira. She is like sunshine," he concluded, finding that she truly was, both in color and in attitude, like the light that came from the sun; that same sun which appeared to be hopelessly absent. However, also like sunlight, the filly was nearly too bright - he found during their meeting that he could not long look at her without growing ill, that she made his skin tremble for nearly the entirety of the conversation until the very ends, when they had fallen into playful jesting about the family that Semira held close to her heart. She was not normal, and Dragomir knew within himself that if his sire had seen his son sharing in such niceties with a girl such as she, that he would have had his hind end kicked from here into tomorrow.

But, what grew more and more evident within the heart of the tyrant's son was that Adalwulf was not here in Helovia, a bittersweet thing that, at the moment, Dragomir found mostly bitter.

"I have not learned much," he said shyly, almost to his own mud hued hooves. Again, the image of the invasion flickered in his mind, the events leading up to the moment of upheaval, and he found himself turning his eyes to the black mare with a soft and honest curiosity. "The Basin, you called the unicorns," he alluded with a more robust nature, truly desiring the answer to the question, even if it meant that he would discover Mirage and her kin were cold blooded kidnappers, "why did they come?" He refrained from informing the woman of the foals he had seen, hoping that she would be honest with him in her answer, his heart nearly pleading that she supply and answer that upheld the honor that he believed Mirage nearly oozed out of her pores, though he tried to keep it's desperation from leaking onto his features.

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Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3

Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath Whit
#6
So often, he demonstrated his youth. The mare easily forgot, for her own children held themselves with such wisdom, they masked their shyness with gentle curiosity, they corrected their unsureness with a bold ability to question and learn. The mare knew that Dragomir held the same qualities within him, but they were hidden beneath a boy's fears that he would stumble and somehow displease -who? Her? His father? The gods, of his past or his present? She hoped that one day he would learn how to please himself and settle firmly in his own beliefs. When she had first met him, and invited him to her home, she had offered him but a season - a season that had come and gone, and did he intend on staying? The DragonHeart wouldn't question it, rather, she found herself slowly but surely melting to his naïve charm, his -seemingly- honest demeanour and willingness to learn and at least, try what it was she offered. She was pleased to hear his lessons, pleased to hear that as always Smoke proved to be a wise and useful teacher. What pleased her even more, was the fact that while he wasn't necessarily making deep and meaningful friendships yet, he was still trying a little, which was better than nothing at all.

Amusement glittered behind her eyes, shining through the worry and grief that otherwise plagued her golden gaze, as he mentioned her daughter. The silver scaled girl was but one that she suspected would give the stallion something 'else' to think about - her kin would challenge everything he was raised with, she was sure of it. Mirage offered him a small smile at the compliment - indeed, she was like sunlight, though it was a curious observation to make about a creature who was, essentially, a silver dragon. "I am sure she would appreciate the comment. Be sure to let her know that's what you think of her, next time you see her." The DragonHeart murmured quietly, her voice more sedate with every step they took. She knew where the conversation was leading, even if she had spoken with confidence of the situation before. It was but a subtle shift in her, the weariness seemed to weigh down heavier upon her shoulders, as the exhaustion from her fight settled upon her bodice, amidst the constant grinding her mind gave her as recent arguments with beloved friends continued to chip away at her.

"The Basin have been host to a group of supremacists for some time. While I do not wish for them to cease existing, I had hoped that their views would not cause my family harm -that we could live quietly side by side. A foolish hope." She began, her gaze peering heavily into Dragomir's own. He had asked, and she would not hide the truth for what it was. "Two of our own were mercilessly slaughtered by the Basin, with more missing still. I took captive what I hoped would be precious to them, their children, their futures. I hoped to get their attention, to prove that we would not stand idle and let them torture us." A wry smile curved her lips. "I had hoped they would send an emissary before an army. However, an army we received, and an army we defeated." The words she spoke were not prideful, nor were they boasting or mocking. They were merely words, filled with the dry hard facts that he had asked for. "I will seek out the Basin Leader once the dust settles." It was added in a quiet undertone, a promise to complete this task naturally bestowed upon her as the leader, the Queen of this land.

@[Dragomir]
Mirage the DragonHeart

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table by whit

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#7
Walking alongside the lady Mirage filled him with a deep sense of purpose that he could not understand in his youth; it was not that he fancied her as he might any other pretty woman he encountered. It was more a sense of belonging to something greater than himself, his large and muscular frame plodding along quietly, observing her through the corner of his pale blue eyes as they wound through the trees and conversed, at first, about light hearted things. His residency in the forest of winding mists had been a lonely one, truly, but the few bonds he had begun to tie with those of the Edge were promising; discussing them with what he considered to be the strongest braid in his rope of acquaintances filled the tobiano with a deep and resonant happiness, his smile blooming as her own expression lightened at the mention of Semira. He nodded his approval of the suggestion of telling the girl his impressions of her, inwardly regretting the agreement and silently rebuking it; to tell anyone something so intimate about themselves seemed as if it would be the most embarrasing moment of his life up until now, and willingly putting himself in that situation was not on his agenda.

But Mirage couldn't read minds. At least, he hoped.

As quickly as the pleasure had arrived to the depths of the Dragonheart's eyes, it departed, replaced with a desperate seriousness. Focusing more fully on her words and face, Dragomir more carefully felt his way with his hooves, glancing occasionally to ensure he didn't collide with the myriad trees and low hanging boughs that plagued even the well kept paths of the forest. A branch cracked against his shoulder as he passed, the dry sound ironically falling at the mention of her murdered friends. His brows knitted together in concern, brain absorbing itself more fully at the recollection of the honorless deeds of the racist unicorns. Unlike his lady, Dragomir could easily understand the sentiments of the elitist horned - he himself suffered from a similar plight of the soul, but he was aware also that he was young and more softly embedded in a superior mindset. The warriors that had entered the herd unwelcomed had not been soft and maleable youths, but hardened adults, firmly set on their chosen paths; and yet, even if each one of them had been filled with a rancorous desire for the blood of equine and pegasi, their mission had not been to murder when they arrived.

They had come to save their children from a place that, to those who believed as they did, was more vile and wicked than any amount of cold and heartless murder could ever be. Had she truly thought that they would chose to parlay with a force considered an enemy before the same group kidnapped their foals?

Silent as she spoke and considering each detail in turn, Dragomir processed the information in his usual steadfast and considerate way. He understood where the ebony queen was coming from in her motives and decisions; of all he had learned of her in their conversations, most thoroughly he understood two things. Firstly, that the Lady Mirage was deeply devoted to her people, and, secondly, that she believed in the goodness of all their hearts. They were perhaps not the most fitting attributes of a leader, he decided then and there, his mouth a line with a slight inclination to be a frown, observing the outcome of her optimistic views on the morality of others; while it made her an excellent leader to those who believed as she did, it left her vulnerable to the options that less honorable and diplomatic individuals would turn to when pressed as she had pressed them. And, either way he viewed the entire situation, he couldn't truly understand why the children had seemed so viable a choice to begin with.

The act of kidnapping had been born of a murder. He found no connection between the deaths of her friends and the lives of innocent youth - youth that had likely never been far outside the borders of their home and had little to no interaction with the type of inhabitants that could be found within the Edge. Having been in it's borders for a good while now and still not entirely comfortable with the strangeness of some of the faces within, he felt a deep sadness for the children that, if they were truly the children of racist unicorns, were liably scared mindless no matter the treatment they received. And how did terrorizing foals honor the memory of those who were killed by their parents?

Dragomir found that it did not.

"I am glad I took no part of the war," he said softly, halting his forward movement to look more deeply on the dark features of the Dragonheart, trying to state with the seriousness of his features that he meant no offense by his words, "for it was a waste of blood on both sides." Looking away and out into the treeline, he observed the movement of the leaves for a moment, breathing to regain his mental composure under the pressing fear of angering Mirage. "The foals did not kill your friends," he stated, still locked out on the treeline, a slight trembling taking his limbs at pressing his good fortunes with the Weyr Leader so far, "what memory have you honored? You punished the innocent; expected criminals to arrive with letters rather than swords after you took what was theirs." A deep sigh escaped him, his blue eyes slipping down from the trees and back to the ebony woman who, for no reason he could pinpoint, had begun to capture his heart, filling him with a desire to please and protect her in any way that he might find; that he was now bashing her tactical decisions wrought him with so many unpleasant emotions that it was hard to continue speaking, even knowing that if he left his words where they now sat, she would surely take his position to be disdain. "I know their hearts - do not mistake them to be anything at all like yours."

His final statement left him with his thoughts turned inward, to her open acceptance of him in the Threshold, even after her had exposed his heritage and teachings; perhaps it was reckless to let someone who could so easily be molded into a monster into her home, but it was that same recklessness that seemed to hold them all together in this wood. An easy trust assembled between them all, forgiveness of sins as those who commited them sought retribution. It was that same way of thought that had caused a war to be fought in the peaceful and misty forest, and despite his struggle to see the world as Mirage had asked him, this only set him further away from the goal. There were elements of success to be seen, but more often than not, he found that seeking the good in every being one encountered usually ended with your own ass on fire.

That desperation glimmered in his eyes as he searched Mirage for the answers to the questions that rattled like bones and fractured metal bits in his head, fore hooves shuffling nervously in the earth beneath him. He wanted her to show him the correct path to take - it had all seemed so promising, to become honorable and worth mention seemingly overnight by becoming accepting of those around him. But the gleaming castle in his mind's eye was withering, the open slits in the bricks obvious without the tapestries to keep the wind at bay, each rattle and creak ominous where as before it had seemed to fill it with a humble life. And all the while, echoing in the corridors, his father's voice and the image of long dead God's lost with their people called to him, whispered that the only path was the one of the hoof and the earth, these three faced divines be damned.
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Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3


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