Kildeer Rest vòlkan [m]

She reared like a mare, her legs striking the air in front of her in a vision of fire. His eyes widened at the very edges, before he came ever closer.

He was nothing if not trusting of a fire. His ancestors lay beside them, rough hands carding through their fur, tossing them a bone. There were no rough hands here.

He came with dancing steps, out of the circle of ivory in her maw, ever cautious but ever so curious. He let his voice rise again, a musical note that hummed through his throat and his maw. Akhtar, starborn prince, circled closer, mapping her curiously.

He didn’t speak. It didn’t feel right to.