Elven lord halted from his toiling amongst the shadows, his orbs diverging from those of Arwyndea and Chimaera, seeking their projection upon his spawn's equal. Orbs shifted, suddenly cold . . . had she been lost for good? Tawny fluid softened slightly, no, he would have felt it in the air . . . her passing would have been far more unbalancing than that of the one who betrothed himself the "dragon". For the first time, the grey found himself allowing himself to open up to this beast. Cast iron voice swayed upon the breeze . . .

"Perhaps, but what they follow will not allow them to stop at owning their own territory, or land. Who would be to blame if an innocent foal wandered into those lands, and was killed without mercy by such a group. They do not wish to have freedom, they wish to conquer others' souls. Your words are wise, but it may only be a wish of the heart."

Such a tranquil voice became flat, devoid of feeling.

"Are you aware that the dragon has passed on, but has the ability to return . . . not by his own will, but by anothers. One who does not understand the meaning of what she can do,"

Tresses slipped in sublime serenity as angel of death shifted . . . amber orbs blazing into Hawklash's own. Intrigued he was becoming by such a mortal equus, able to withstand and understand what most could not ever grasp in their lifetimes. Was this new feelig, trust?