Megaera had risen before the dawn and taken to her usual haunts near the northern border. She had taken to patrolling the area around the land bridge if she had no other directives for a given day. This compulsion to guard the direct entrance had only increased since her return from the Floating Isle. Fearing an angry mob that would come to seize her sultan and condemn him as a murderer, she had only been allowing herself a few hours’ sleep each night and spent the rest circling like a vulture.

Before talking flight that morning, she had stopped at the edge of the water where the ocean was split in two. The four long scratches on her shoulder were healing well, but they itched enough to drive her mad. The girl rolled in the sand, sloughing away dead skin where they had scabbed over. They didn’t bleed again this time, which was a relief, and were left only as four tender pink lines. Standing again, she plunged herself into the salty water, rinsing off the sand and the restless night and was ready to greet the dawn when a series of shrill whistles reached her.

She automatically glanced northward, where she expected any disturbance to come from, but in a moment realized her mistake and turned herself to the south. Someone was calling from the Oasis. A quick shake to rid herself of water and she bolted into the sky like a shot.

Meg covered the distance in to time, she was always fast in the air, and knew her place when she spied the Blue Gladiator standing proudly and the other Dragon Soldiers gathering around her. The little warhawk landed in a skid, sending loose stones flying in a wide ark and red dust clinging to her legs that were still slightly damp. She straitened and moved briskly to stand to her favorite brother in arms. A wing stretched out to nudge his shoulder as she settled in on Hectors left, a comradely but silent greeting accompanied by a quick grin in his direction. Features sobered and the wing was folded again when Ampere began her call to order.

Dark ears and dark eyes were all trained on the Galadiator, trying to parse out every detail of her bearing and demeanor. With effort, she had been so far trying not to form an opinion on the mare. IT was a nice change to be taller that another warrior, but somehow that didn’t seem to count for much here, not when the other crackled with electricity so often. Meg knew virtually nothing about her and they had never really spoken. All she had was the rumors she’d heard (a short time as Sultana and a brief absence) and three sightings in larger gatherings. Two of those times, Ampere had been yelling, at some random unicorn stallion and much more recently at Gaucho. That time had started a predilection to dislike the Gladiator, anyone who had an issue with the Sultan had an issue with Meg but even that instinct was contrasted by wanting to trust who Gaucho trusted. So the jury was still out. Meg wanted to like Ampere, was hoping for a reason to. It didn’t sit well with the bay that she should be at odds with anyone of Dragon’s Throat, even less with a fellow soldier.

Eyes flicked to her right as Hector spoke, short and sweet, and she almost gave a chuckle at her somber brother. She raised her own voice in its turn. “Megaera.” She didn’t offer the shortened version. She’d only ever been called ‘Meg’ by her friends in the Throat and it didn’t occur to her to say it now, Perhaps it was only the serious purpose of the gathering… Then again maybe not.