The queen reacts to this new birth first.

She begins to twitch, to fidget upon Volterra's broad back. Her royal head rises, sniffing the air and swinging her scythed tail like a fractious tigress. Her mind fills his with a tidal wave of emotions, and he tilts his massive head to eye her. "What is it?" She cannot yet respond in words, so instead bombards him with images and feelings. With a rough trill, she flares her wings and lifts into the air, disappearing into the trees in a streak of gold.

Vérzés - not one to follow Vadir in anything she does, lest she think he respects her - lands on the stallion's now-vacant quarters, settling himself comfortably down on his favourite perch. What's wrong with her? he questions the red. Vérzés also seems perturbed by something, but not to the extent of his golden sister. Still, he uses his mind to direct Volterra towards the thing, and the beast shifts into a heavy, thunderous trot. They slip through the maze of trees, red dragon and black beast in perfect tandem.

They see golden scales between the trees, and slow their stride so they can edge closer. Vadir perches on a thick branch, anchored to it by her tail, her crimson gaze riveted on what's happening in front of her. Volterra's eyes follow hers, and he sees Amaris - he offers a whicker of greeting, but her attention seems focused on something else. Now the crimson king is interested as well, and dives downwards from Volterra's back to get a closer look.

Their three pairs of eyes focus on the hatchling. The brand-new golden dragon, scales the colour of Vadir's, like a smaller version of her. Lesser version, she is quick to point out, and the beast chortles at her wanton arrogance. Both red and gold trill their greetings to this new queen, and both dive down to take a closer look at her. But they soon realise that there's something different about this dragon, something unusual, something wrong.

She is a he.

That's not possible. Volterra, the encyclopedia of dragons, knows that golds can only be female. That the scaled ones revere females over males - as they are larger, and are egg-bearers - and thus reserve the grandest colour for queens.

The red turns, patronising, scornful. "Anything possible." And, Volterra concedes, he has a point. Dragons conform to no rules, not even their own. Little wonder Vadir was so excited by this birth. Finally, there exists a male dragon that may prove himself to be her equal. Of course, golden scales do not necessarily mean strength, but the queen sees potential in him, and her critical, cold gaze seems satisfied with what it rests upon. She sees a creature who may be worthy to dance with her, and the scales around her neck flare with excitement. Vérzés scoffs, haughty. "Pffft. Why male want to be female colour? Male colours superior." He receives a sharp smack from Vadir's tail for his troubles, and responds with an irritated squawk.

It's then that Volterra realises Amaris is down, seemingly fainted, and he moves from the shadows towards her. "Amaris..." He seeks to nudge her with his muzzle, with half an eye on the newborn dragon - he half-expects to be savaged for his troubles, but both Vadir and Vérzés are on hand to deter the hatchling if necessary. They might both be deeply interested in the new dragonling, but their bonded's safety comes first. "Awaken, Amaris. Your dragon needs you." Pride rises within his soul for her; she has bonded, and there are few more worthy of such a bond. He knows she will regret it if she misses these precious formative moments with her new companion, so his nudging becomes more insistent.