Ophelia saw something charcoal against the snow and watched as it spun, spraying snow like the waves of the ocean. The mare furrowed her brows, able to see now that the charcoal beat was a horse with two, strange horns, and by scent, most likely male. Curiosity drove her closer, and she turned in the stallion's direction, cresting a dune of white as Tinek happily and lazily flew around her, inching slightly ahead of his bond mate. Though she more often than not was hurt by those she allowed to be close, the masochistic desire for companionship and the burning need of curiosity brought her into situations like this almost too regularly.
The deep, male voice hit her ears, and she had no intentions of running away. Instead, she came closer and stood at a safe distance, eyeing him curiously and with furrowed brows over her strange, blue and red colored eyes. Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak, the stallion seemed to have caught Tinek's figure on the approach. She watched as he backed away, speaking something she could not hear. Tinek paused in mid-air and turned back to Ophelia, confused.
"Why is he doing that?" The silver dragon asked in her mind.
Ophelia watched patiently, but she chose to answer in her own mind instead. "I think he may be afraid of you," she returned. "Not all have had good experiences with dragons." Her father certainly had not, especially not from the burn scars he sported. Though she was not close to the stallion who gave her life, she admired his willingness to do anything for what he believed to be right - even if that was ignoring the fact that she had been taken as a small child and held against her will. Those memories were rather bitter and still as clear as if they happened yesterday, and she blinked once, trying to rid herself of the smell of ocean and visions of the wicked mare who kidnapped her so long ago...
Tinek turned around and flew back to where Ophelia was standing and landed in the snow. Only the top of his silver head and his red-tipped horns seemed to be visible from the bank he had landed in, and he sneezed once to rid his cavities of the snow. The white mare cast an annoyed but patient glance down at the dragon before moving closer to the stranger. Upon his horns were markings she did not recognize, but she very much desired to know what they meant. The beard on his chin was braided and partly silver, but from the strong musculature and good bones, he could not have been too old.
"My name is Ophelia," she said with a kind smile. "I am sorry if we startled you. Tinek and I were simply venturing from the mountains back into the main land." The white mare ticked her head back at the dragon to indicate that he was named Tinek. Like a cat, the dragon inched closer, one taloned foot at a time. "I do not recognize you," she hummed. Nothing about his personage even indicated relations to anyone she knew. By all accounts he was uniquely strange. "Who are you?"
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