A pale cloud had been drifting over the desert for the better part of the day, lazily riding the cool breeze while basking in the light of the sun. It had watched everything that went on below, the wanderings of the patrols, the coming and going of strangers and the thrilling hunt of a small, red fox down on the ground. A few times the cloud had felt a twitch of longing tug at it as it followed the chase, an itch in ivory talons and teeth that tempted it to join in on the race, but coming for something bigger... and more filling. Alas, this particular cloud had already sated itself on the cadaver of a washed up sea monster off by the shore, and while she could always eat more it would be more for the thrill of the chase than any real need to sate herself.
Far more interesting was the things the fox was doing. In certain ways it was a very natural thing to do, to stop and sit down after consuming a meal, but not many usually spent their time staring at leaves, as though trying to scion the future from it. Fewer foxes still usually picked up said leaf to run off with; this was a decidedly curious thing to do, and the cloud - who by now had stopped pretending to be a cloud and simply reverted into a very intrigued, very nosy dragon - followed along as the little canine sped across the desert.
Things grew decidedly more interesting when she realized that the course was set not only for the center of the desert where arid ground pregnant with red sand gave way to lush emerald grasses, swaying palm trees and the deep blue waters of the Oasis, but for a shiny black four-leg-with-horn. It sort of explained things - if the fox was bonded it was bound to act strangely every now and then, seeing as it shared mind with the decidedly odd equids.
What was perhaps most curious of all these peculiar events, was that she thought herself able to recognize this particular four-leg. It was a memory from some time ago, but since her mind was much clearer and more flexible than those of the younger species, she easily sought out the one she needed. A day on a meadow with Silverthorn, a small runaway fledgling had stopped to talk and she had SWOOPED DOWN and scared him.
If dragons could grin, Fajira would have been smiling ear to ear. It was the same fledgling as that time, only bigger and less cute. She felt a pang of excitement shoot through her, and after a sharp demand to her bonded to "COME!" the white dragon shot down from her high vantage point in the air, let out a blood-curdling shriek and dived down towards Sacre with flames licking the open maw and excitement blazing in the pale blue eyes; hoping that she'd be able to make him flinch this time too.
@[Sacre]
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[O] road's long, we carry on [basin celebration invitations]
