Speeding fast on the run, never want to get caught up.

[Tarian]

Loess was quiet in the days after the Pangean attack. The silence of so many lives cut short seemed to cast a spell over the canyons and ravines; hardly a sound echoed through them in the months that followed after the flames. Spring had cleansed the land by sending rainstorms to wash away the ashes. Summer cast a golden halo of long, lazy days that encouraged the variety of flora to grow in wild abundance along the streams that cut through the rocky terrain.

And then autumn had come and Tarian had gone.
Winter had followed and Tarian had returned.

He's barely had more than a few days - hardly enough time to stretch his massive wings - to settle before the buckskin lands. Tarian hears the landing. The thing - a dragon he realizes - that emerges has talons where his hooves should be and Tarian can feel his lip start to curl in a sneer as it approaches. The other brute is massive; he is all scales and spikes. The intruder spreads his wings and Tarian starts to unfurl his in instinct.

Tarian decides against fully displaying his feathers. He pulls them in and lifts his head, trying to get a better look at the galaxy-marked horse. The dragon slinks forward and the gray pegasus steps back, attempting to keep distance between them as the pair kicks up red Loessian dust. "I think not," says Tarian. "But you're welcome to stay in Loess." The older stallion grins, full of winter frost and it gleams brightly in his blue eyes. "In pieces, anyway."