Don’t know.īut she chuffs silly-affectionate and them silly small those-ones hatchlings here yes fine. Her eyes flick idly around her ledge and the cave falling away beneath her, and she shrugs. She Sun sighs not-worried, twisting her neck to show that she is not afraid he will be angry and leap at it. Small, he glances down at her sides where hatchlings would curl up to sleep, hunching his wings protectively. He bats with one wing-claw at her paws, drawn close-in to her chest as she roosts. Valka-mate closes her eyes at She Sun and smiles as if she is warm. Instead he climbs to find the dragon Valka-mate calls She Sun. He looks very hard in places where their scents are strong, but he does not find their hatchlings. He sits back on his hindquarters and looks all around, and leaps. Stay, he tells her, and grunts with satisfaction when she does. Toothless-hatchling?Ĭloudjumper rumbles and noses at her. Hiccup-mine? her voice says, stirring to wake again. Her eyes flutter as she blinks very much. Her sounds say wait, and she stops, lifting her fish light and looking around. He must be clever and loyal for her, and court her always.īut it warms inside when she reaches out to him and lets him guide her to her nest, pacing very slowly so that she can follow resting against his shoulder. But it is water when he knocked it over that time. Cloudjumper waits patiently as she strikes at it clumsily and even puffs at it some, and although she yelps when she strikes her paw instead in her exhaustion, she is happy when the coal burns bright enough to spread to what Cloudjumper thinks of as a fish light. She holds it against her chest and says that it is her fire. This is a sound all dragons in the nest know. No, no, she says when Cloudjumper opens his jaws to it with the tiniest of fires burning on the back of his tongue. Slowly she pads to a hidden coal, and tries to strike fire from it. She stumbles very much as she slides from his back. It is wide enough for many dragons to spread their wings and not swat at each other, but she does not have wings to spread so, so that cannot be why.īut beyond this cave is where his Valka-mate has made her nest, so now it is a place that Cloudjumper likes best too. There are only flat spaces where the claws of many dragons have scored the stone as they walk across it, and sand to itch beneath scales. He thrums at her where she rests on his shoulders, and her touch goes absent and loose with tired.Ĭarrying her, Cloudjumper darts beneath ice and through a wide cavern, landing lightly in the cave that she likes best even though there are no good stones to climb on and edges to hang from. When she pets at his shoulders with gestures saying happy-you-here and us-together and hunt-well-done that is triumph in absent touches, he knows that she has found her wings again where they were tangled around her. When her paws go tight and trembling, he knows that she whimpers at memories even as flight washes her small sounds away. Cloudjumper who knows his sounds to mean Leaps-Over-Clouds in that most-beloved voice instead soars easy and gentle through the new darkness, small pawprints of his skin twitching at her touch. His mate falls quiet as they fly, her voice chirping like the last birds.
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