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[sorry this took forever :C]
With a flash of gold and heady bronze, the young dragon greeted his blue counterpart with joy, chirping and speaking in dragon-tongue, jade eyes sparkling with youthful excitement. Jack fell into place besides his grulla aunt at her signal, thankful for her warmth.
Although his speckled coat was still damp, dry wisps of rust and orange-gold mane flickered silently at his crest as a tepid breeze tousled them. Smoke suggests Dei go herbhunting with her Zaffre; he offered her a ghost of a smile. "I think he would," the appaloosa said quietly, urging his companion to follow the little blue. Go, and off the dragon flies, tailing his dark friend.
There was uneasiness between the older chestnut and the yearling, but besides Smoke, there would be no trouble. She reminded him vaguely of his own dam, at least the warm grey of their coats and the white speckling on their bodies (although Smoke's was artificial, unbeknownst to the colt) and their expressions which told of fearlessness, of courage - but also of a heart which could love fiercely, but Wild Rose's eyes were not the passionate shade of amber of his mother's, which made him sad. He wondered if she had lived, but decided to push those thoughts aside, because they would rip him apart; he was not as strong as his blood had promised.
When he realized where they were heading, Jackal's ears plopped down dejectedly. They knew where his waterfall was, and he was not an explorer, just a silly spotted colt with a head made of loam and rotting wood.
Meanwhile, the little bronze followed the blue, twirling and dancing through the air, gilded wings carrying him smoothly over cool air currents as the night grew dark and the stars peeked over the mountains. He helped Zaffre gather the healing herbs, and afterwards they went to the healer, a diminutive grey mare entwined in a bush. She was strange, with strange mannerisms and strange speech. Dei tilted his head curiously - he had never met an equine such as she.
Jack's striped heels clacked noisily on the stone footing of the cascade, tail swishing idly. He stood close to Smoke, like a little newborn foal. She smelled of sagebrush and high mountain air. He liked that.
With little fanfare, a small grey mare with curious markings sped into sight with the two dragons. They all carried grass (as far as he could distinguish) and seemed terribly frantic about it. She tended to the stallion's face immediately, bidding him to eat. Poppy seemed to be an expert in such arts, and the little appaloosa could do nothing more than watch in awe.
When the herbs had been relieved, Dei flitted over to his bonded, chortling happily at Smoke before landing gracefully on the broad dun back.
Something Poppy had said made the chestnut balk in fear, eyes shiny in the soft light of the waterfall. It had made Poppy nervous too, and she began speaking quickly - too quickly. Jack's mind reeled with her chattering and he felt his body tense. What was wrong? He pressed close to his aunt, watching them over the strong curve of her back, slate eyes wide. He had heard the word fire, but did not see any. Perhaps it was a magical fire - invisible? Dei barked quietly, a plume of smoke unfurling itself from his tongue.
Although his speckled coat was still damp, dry wisps of rust and orange-gold mane flickered silently at his crest as a tepid breeze tousled them. Smoke suggests Dei go herbhunting with her Zaffre; he offered her a ghost of a smile. "I think he would," the appaloosa said quietly, urging his companion to follow the little blue. Go, and off the dragon flies, tailing his dark friend.
There was uneasiness between the older chestnut and the yearling, but besides Smoke, there would be no trouble. She reminded him vaguely of his own dam, at least the warm grey of their coats and the white speckling on their bodies (although Smoke's was artificial, unbeknownst to the colt) and their expressions which told of fearlessness, of courage - but also of a heart which could love fiercely, but Wild Rose's eyes were not the passionate shade of amber of his mother's, which made him sad. He wondered if she had lived, but decided to push those thoughts aside, because they would rip him apart; he was not as strong as his blood had promised.
When he realized where they were heading, Jackal's ears plopped down dejectedly. They knew where his waterfall was, and he was not an explorer, just a silly spotted colt with a head made of loam and rotting wood.
Meanwhile, the little bronze followed the blue, twirling and dancing through the air, gilded wings carrying him smoothly over cool air currents as the night grew dark and the stars peeked over the mountains. He helped Zaffre gather the healing herbs, and afterwards they went to the healer, a diminutive grey mare entwined in a bush. She was strange, with strange mannerisms and strange speech. Dei tilted his head curiously - he had never met an equine such as she.
Jack's striped heels clacked noisily on the stone footing of the cascade, tail swishing idly. He stood close to Smoke, like a little newborn foal. She smelled of sagebrush and high mountain air. He liked that.
With little fanfare, a small grey mare with curious markings sped into sight with the two dragons. They all carried grass (as far as he could distinguish) and seemed terribly frantic about it. She tended to the stallion's face immediately, bidding him to eat. Poppy seemed to be an expert in such arts, and the little appaloosa could do nothing more than watch in awe.
When the herbs had been relieved, Dei flitted over to his bonded, chortling happily at Smoke before landing gracefully on the broad dun back.
Something Poppy had said made the chestnut balk in fear, eyes shiny in the soft light of the waterfall. It had made Poppy nervous too, and she began speaking quickly - too quickly. Jack's mind reeled with her chattering and he felt his body tense. What was wrong? He pressed close to his aunt, watching them over the strong curve of her back, slate eyes wide. He had heard the word fire, but did not see any. Perhaps it was a magical fire - invisible? Dei barked quietly, a plume of smoke unfurling itself from his tongue.
