Drogon

At first glance, it was hard to see the resemblance between the two of them, but Drogon knew it was there and so did the dragon. Every so often, he could feel it turn it's fire-orange gaze on his pretty little sister in hungry contemplation, and found his stomach grow uneasy at the open speculation. It wasn't so much that the two of them - brother and sister - looked so much alike, but that the girl looked so much like their mother. She was like a miniature version of Vanya, only somehow both more jaded and cunning than she had any right to be as a yearling.

It had taken every skill in Drogon's limited arsenal to convince her to return with him to Paradise, and even so, he had a sneaking suspicion that she had made him work so hard out of an innate stubbornness, rather than because she didn't want to find out more about her history. Even now, the slender filly walked in front of him as if she knew the way, her pretty hazel eyes wide with wonder as she took the lush Paradisian jungle in for the first time in her life.

"This is it?" She asked, half-tilting her dished face in his direction, although her gaze did not stop drinking in the scenery. "This is where my father lives?"

"And mine," he offers, to the amusement of both the dragon and his sister. She does not laugh openly, but the curl at the edge of her lips makes him feel as if she is mocking him all the same. "He's wanted to meet you for a long time," He answers sourly, his dark tail lashing against his haunches in irritation as he surges forward to take the lead from her. Even the way that she adjusts to this change, curling girlishly out of his way, makes him feel as if she is only doing it to be insincere. She is your mother's daughter, the dragon murmurs, a smoky chuckle rumbling after.

"Father!" He calls out for the silver-maned stallion with some pride, knowing that this would, at least, make Rougaru happy. In many ways, Drogon felt like a failure and an outsider in Paradise. Not because Rougaru had ever made him feel unwelcome, but because unlike the rest of the herd, he had no real reason to be here. His mother was a traitor, and the stain that she had left in her wake was hard to wash from his skin. He could feel its presence in the way that the rest of the herd looked at him, especially as his older brothers began to make something of themselves.

His sister favored him with a blank smile, with all the warmth of one of the jungle cats that prowled through the night and he exhaled in frustration. In truth, he wasn't yet sure if finding her had been worth all the effort.

---

For her part, Vivienne was skeptical. The young stallion called himself by her brother's name, and traces of her mother's dished face and lithe build could be seen in his physique, but she had learned the hard way to trust no one. Of all the lessons that her mother had attempted to impart, this one had stuck out most strongly in Vivienne's mind.

For all she knew, this Drogon was a pretender, tasked only with attempting to trick her into captivity in someone's herd. But the desire to know who she was and where she had come from was strong enough to keep her in his presence, despite her misgivings. If this truly was Paradise, and her father truly was still here, she had more than a few questions to ask him.

Can you feel it?