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01-11-2013, 01:52 AM
The resounding cry of dragon-song, too deep for those smaller creatures that accompanied so many who dwelled here, drew the dragon's son from a state of alert but resting trance. Golden eyes blinked, slitted pupils narrowing as he focused instead of simply absorbing all the information his senses picked up. Ears twitched and swiveled as he turned back from the borders. Was that?
Again the call sounded, and the massive steed snorted. It was! How had he missed her approach? His ears angled to locate the origin of the call, deducing it to come from the cliff-side borders. Ah, so that explained how. Eagerly he spread his enormous wingspan and flung himself skyward. An effort that required several forward strides before enough air was caught by the leathery sails to gain lift. Unhurriedly he angled his flight over the trees, tracing the border as he did so. Just because he was anxious to rejoin his mate did not mean he would skimp on watching the borders. Now would be an excellent time for intruders to sneak past, when all the herd's residents were distracted by the return of the leader.
In time he came across the gathering, but his eyes were only for the two golden dragons, one large and one small, that graced the cliff-side clearing. Still he paused, circling once, to decide how best to land. His sheer size required this careful planning, so as to not catch fragile wing membrane on branches or trample smaller herdmates. At last he decided the best route was one Mirage herself had taken, and swept down from the open air to land in a flurry of strong gusts of wind mere feet from the dragon-mare.
As he carefully folded his wings the bronzen stud offered brief apologetic looks to those others present who would have been buffeted by the wind of his landing. As he did so he listened to the words of Mirage. A promotion, and words of encouragement. Only after did he approached her, closing the small gap with a sound that straddled the line between whicker and draconic croon. He had missed her, but had decided to wait instead of act rashly. His muzzle grazed against her nearest wing, then bumped her shoulder in quiet affection without pausing to request permission. But he kept to those small intimacies unless she initiated more, instead turning his gaze to Akaith with a welcoming rumble. He wondered at her earlier silence, oblivious to the fact that the other companions had been equally silent. Few other than the little queen chose to speak with him, and he had not sought them out in recent days.
((Better late than never.))
Again the call sounded, and the massive steed snorted. It was! How had he missed her approach? His ears angled to locate the origin of the call, deducing it to come from the cliff-side borders. Ah, so that explained how. Eagerly he spread his enormous wingspan and flung himself skyward. An effort that required several forward strides before enough air was caught by the leathery sails to gain lift. Unhurriedly he angled his flight over the trees, tracing the border as he did so. Just because he was anxious to rejoin his mate did not mean he would skimp on watching the borders. Now would be an excellent time for intruders to sneak past, when all the herd's residents were distracted by the return of the leader.
In time he came across the gathering, but his eyes were only for the two golden dragons, one large and one small, that graced the cliff-side clearing. Still he paused, circling once, to decide how best to land. His sheer size required this careful planning, so as to not catch fragile wing membrane on branches or trample smaller herdmates. At last he decided the best route was one Mirage herself had taken, and swept down from the open air to land in a flurry of strong gusts of wind mere feet from the dragon-mare.
As he carefully folded his wings the bronzen stud offered brief apologetic looks to those others present who would have been buffeted by the wind of his landing. As he did so he listened to the words of Mirage. A promotion, and words of encouragement. Only after did he approached her, closing the small gap with a sound that straddled the line between whicker and draconic croon. He had missed her, but had decided to wait instead of act rashly. His muzzle grazed against her nearest wing, then bumped her shoulder in quiet affection without pausing to request permission. But he kept to those small intimacies unless she initiated more, instead turning his gaze to Akaith with a welcoming rumble. He wondered at her earlier silence, oblivious to the fact that the other companions had been equally silent. Few other than the little queen chose to speak with him, and he had not sought them out in recent days.
((Better late than never.))
