It was dark, too dark for her liking. She knew that it was daylight, but the rays of sun did not reach her face; her dark features were locked within some sort of helm, one that dug its cold, iron grip into the base of her head and preventing movement of her jaw. No amount of shaking or pulling would release her from its hold, and if she struggled, the celelyrium bit more into her scales, eating away through her shadow-y hide and sinking its devilish teeth into her soft underskin. She could not even unfurl her wings, for they, too, were locked in heavy braces made of the metal that had caused the downfall of her own race. Several humans had clasped her ankles, tail, and neck within bulky braces, as well, and they ground uncomfortably on her flesh. Whenever she resisted the humans' pulls, they yanked on the chains linked to the clasps, dragging her forward no matter how much she did not want to.

Nyx knew that her captors were taking her somewhere within human civilization. The sound of humans rang like the chirping of birds around her, and several gasps of awe and fear reached her ears. The floor felt earthy and wet, and she heard the hooves of horses sinking into the moist soil right beside her. The hunters had her surrounded like some sort of precious yet deadly cargo. In the end, that was all she was; she had been taken from her home, ripped from her tribe... and sold like some sort of plump pig on the market. She would have shifted a long time ago back to her human form to escape the grip of celelyrium braces and clasps, but for some reason, she did not have the energy to. The metal sapped away at her, preventing her from shifting between her forms. It frustrated her greatly, so much so that she felt like roaring and stomping her feet in anger. But the humans were smart; if she did that, they would prod and stab her with sticks and blades tipped with that unholy steel. She was a bird with clipped wings, sitting alone in a cold cage. And she could do nothing about it.

The caravan of hunters stopped after an hour of travelling, shuffling their puny feet as they mumbled amongst themselves. Nyx could not see what was going on around her, but she guessed that they had reached their destination. The dark-scaled dragon snorted and yanked her head upwards, narrowing her eyes underneath the bulky helm that only had a hole for air to make its way inside. The pair of humans in charge of controlling her neck spat curses and yanked on the chains, making her snarl as she lowered her skull towards the ground again. Her wings shuffled within the braces slightly as she awaited her fate.

The leader of the group stepped forward, unfurling a piece of parchment. He was a bulky man with thick arms that looked like he could have handled a small dragon on his lonesome. His tanned skin was covered in armor made of several types of dragon scales and hide, and his long pale hair was bound in a tight braid. The man's emerald green eyes darted around the area; the Guild was located on a cliff overlooking the pale oceans of Solis. Several buildings lined the location, but he did not question what they were for. What caught his attention was the large, fence-like dome that stretched its way into the distance. He had heard stories of the dome being made of celelyrium tendrils. That way, their dragons would be given freedom to fly and explore a certain area in their bestial form, but did not have the chance to escape. Why they would give their dragons so much freedom, he didn't know. And frankly, he did not care.

"Sigil Cloudfury of the White Dove Guild," the hunter boomed, making sure to stand close enough to the largest building so he could be heard by someone, at least. "The dragon that you have requested has been delivered."

@Tancuras

Zoran stared into the clear pool of water in his cuffed palms, strands of his sandy blonde hair hung in his vision. What time was it? he wondered. The light in the sky was still gray, misty. The clouds were thin outside his barred windows, the stone of the building was could to the touch. His feet were icy and he hated it.

After a moment of thoughtless staring, he splashed his face and felt the water fall in droplets. The carved out stone that held his water rippled below him but went ignored. Zoran stepped across his small room, letting the drops fall as he did. He wondered how Thora faired when they weren't together. Seeing as her situation was just a bit different than the other dragons.

He sighed while dabbing his face dry.

The next thirty minutes were spent finding and putting his usual attire on. The black armor he wore was scratched with battle-worn experience, all but his pants were scuffed in some manger. With a practiced hand he wrapped his white cloak around his neck and let it cover his torso.

“May this day be better than the last.” he repeated to himself in a hush tone.

Kieran ran for his life. He ran until his legs gave out on him and broke like bendy straws, and then he crawled, he crawled along the cold snowy ground, not able to see where he was going, he had to get to her, he had to. The snow on his face rested on his eyelashes and made him unable to see, he just crawled forwards, always forwards. He slammed head first into a tree, breaking off a tooth and making blood rush from his mouth, too much blood, not enough blood. The snow melted into water as his warm lifeblood rinsed the ground, his clothes wet from warm blood and cold water, he kept pulling himself forwards, he had to keep moving or else he was dead. He pulled forwards again, again, again, he tried to pull again, but there was nothing to pull. Kieran fell into the white void.

Kieran woke up bathing in his own sweat, he pulled himself upwards into a sit, and looked around. His chambers as usual. He rubbed the sweat from his face and then stared at his hands. "Not again." He pulled off his covers and stood. He wobbled uneasily for a second and his vision went blurry before returning. He stumbled across the room to his desk, opening the rightmost drawer and grabbing his medicine. He'd had night terrors before, but the medicine apparently made them go away, that was three months ago, them returning was not part of his game-plan. He poured himself a shot, and took it in one gulp, needle-like pain ripped his throat. He'd forgot about the medicine's side effects, over the next hour he'd be travelling to the washroom about ten times a second. It couldn't be helped. Kieran took a deep breath and stood, he opened his door and walked out into the hallway. "This is gonna be the best day of my life." He said sarcastically.

A man stalked through the guild's main keep. The way he moved, footfalls silent on the stony ground, the steel in his eyes, he exuded an icy air of purpose, and by very nature seemed to hold authority over even the earth itself. Polished plate gleamed beneath a black cloak, the depiction of a bird taking flight on its center. There was not a soul present whom did not know this man by his sheer presence, and all nodded their heads as he passed. He was Sigil Cloudfury, Guildmaster of the illustrious mercenary band, the White Dove. A band of dragon riders. A band of death.

Sig was not old, for a Guildmaster, though older than most others present. But in a mercenary band, for one to live Sig's thirty-two years, one must be strong in arm, mind, and spirit. Most would have handed the guild off to someone else long before - Sig had enough coin in his personal coffers to live with grandeur well into old age. The Guildmaster, however, had little interest in grandeur, and even less in old age.

As he made his way to the front gate, at the call of the hunter he had been expecting, he stopped only once. Cedric Pryde, First Sword of the guild and Sig's friend and right-hand man, stood vigilant near the keep's doors.

"Clear the Dome," Sig said, clapping a hand on Cedric's shoulder. "Make sure we're not disturbed. I don't know how long this will take."

Sig advanced, pushing open the heavy iron doors before him. The day greeted him, pale sunlight reflecting off distant sands. A haze filled the sky, a pretense to Solis' unwavering heat. A gathering of dragon hunters were arranged before him on the trodden path leading between the guild and the city. Between them was a massive cage, and between the thick bars Sig could see his new possession: a dragon, the hue of its scales dark, deep and rich like the night sky in Lunaris.

Beautiful, Sig thought. He would not regret his new partner. He would make sure of that.

His own dragon previous, a beast known as Furas, was taken down in the guild's last campaign several months before. Sig's ribs still ached from time to time, when he thought of the lance that brought the two of them out of the sky. He did not dwell on the loss. Furas was a strong partner, but he was too broken. He had lost his spirit. No matter, Sig thought. He served his purpose. As will this one.

The Guildmaster fingered the rope hanging from his belt. At it's end was a vicious two-pronged hook, dark metal shimmering in strange colors. The metal was celelyrium, the dragon-killer. It was his guarantee, but he would not use it if he did not need to.

"Let her go," Sig said simply. "And go inside for your payment. I will handle the rest."

The hunter gave him an appraising look. Sig had come out alone, as he often did. But there was no wariness in his voice, no caution. It was said as if it were a matter of fact. He would handle the rest. This was a man who had done this many times before.

"Very well," the hunter said. "As long as we get our pay." Methodically, the group released the cage surrounding the black dragon, metal bars clattering on the sandy ground. They packed the bars away in compartments in the main wagon, and began to release the dragon's bindings. Last to go was the mask. Casting one last questioning glance at the leader, they reluctantly pulled the pins in the jaw of the mask and fled into the guild hall. The heavy steel bonds slid off the dragon's face.

Only Sig remained outside. He regarded the dragon, stern face never changing. She had a severe face, dangerous, eyes that showed fury.

"Come with me," Sig commanded. "How hard this will be is entirely up to you. Show me loyalty, and you will never again feel a shackle." He laid a heavy hand on the rope on his belt.

@Athoriel@Ambra

Kieran stumbled down the stairs into the main hallway, waiting against the wall for the feeling in his face to come back before continuing, he shouldered past the armory door and stumbled into a table, causing weapons to clang all across the floor, along with Kieran.

Kieran cursed at himself before propping himself up on a shield. He moved to a kneel, and then stood slowly. I'll get Freya to clean this up, right now I just need my armor, a meal, and a glass of water... which way is the kitchen again? Kieran stumbled around for a little more, before grappling with the nearby table for his shield. He managed to get it loose, but not before tumbling backwards again, his shield denting on the floor. "*&$#@!" Kieran yelled very loudly, hurting his throat again. This damn medicine, I'd really like that water right about now.

He pushed himself painfully upwards, grabbing his now dented shield, and picking his sword up off the ground, cutting himself on the edge, he slammed the sword into it's holster and wobbled into the wall. After his new intimate relations with the wall, he put his sword and shield combination onto his back. He picked up his chestplate, stuck it under his arm, grabbed his greaves, gauntlets and helmet and walked into the changing room, or at least what he thought was one, stumbling through the halls into the kitchen and changing right then and there. He tumbled back into the armory, knocking over a few more things before finally getting his balance. "Great, now which way's the kitchen?"

Daz wasn't up early, nor was she awake when the cowbell demanded that she should be awake. Instead she was lazing around the rafters in the kitchen, asleep in her favorite place. If her rider wanted to find her, then he knew where to look. The black and red dragon often hung out there, which at first terrified the kitchen crew, but she had taught them how to handle her. Throwing food always worked, and sometimes she'd even leave the person alone altogether if they asked for it.

Daz wasn't unreasonable to some of the humans. Those that were intolerant or rude she hassled as much as possible. That usually meant burning the food as much as possible, putting oil on their floors, or just plain stalking them for a time. The last one was for the most paranoid of humans. They'd tried putting her in shackles and things before, but she knew how to withstand the pain of escape. She never told anyone else her secrets though, because she much prefered her own safety.

And why should she baby these other dragons? Dragons like Freya were just about broken and lifeless. They'd die within a week of being free. Daz only came back to the humans because she got bored or hungry. Maybe that was why they kept assigning her riders as opposed to outright killing her. And her newest rider had some kind of arrogance, keeping her without a harness as much as possible. She'd teach him, sooner or later.

A crashing noise from the hall drew her attention and she slithered out to see a rider knocking everything around. He had emerged from the armory, and seemed to walk around as though drunk. Daz watched him for a moment before shifting into a human form to speak to him. She didn't want to be yelled at this early in the morning.

"Are you drunk? Why are making such a mess?" she asked, pretending to care about this human's actions.

@bluetommy2

Kieran looked at Daz, stumbling as he did.

"It's my medicine I think, who are you again? where am I?" He stared at the ceiling before falling over and smacking into the ground. He stood back up and leaned against the wall, he fumbled through his pockets before producing his medicine, in a small bottle. It had no label, the label had somehow been ripped off, but what was left read: "May cause intoxi-" It cut off there.

Kieran nearly dropped the bottle, but managed to grab it out of the air. "I just need a water, maybe a meal, I'll be fi-" He fell to the ground with a crash. He laid on the ground for a few minutes, and then began to snore.

@RainDash

Melaniya's entire body shook. Her breaths were labored and her eyes out of focus. Sweat drenched her clothes, making the fabric stick to her body. The brunette's muscles screamed for her to stop, but she refused. Up, down, up, down. She had been going at it for awhile now. Exercise was better in the morning before Solis's heat made it near impossible. Finally, the shaking female dropped from her front leaning rest postiton. Looking up at the rising sun, Mel decided that it was due time for breakfast. Quickly she stretched her muscles and headed into the guild.

Judging by how many people were up, Melaniya guessed that she had been working out for a couple hours. She had a weird sleeping schedule. Late to bed and early to rise, the female rider slept whenever she could in the afternoon.

Riders were scattered throughout the large guild house, most still groggy. While Melaniya was First Rider, she didn't get a lot of respect from the other riders. Mel didn't particularly mind. What did annoy her were the new recruit's attitude towards her. They always thought that she was one to look up to, which was only natural, but they could at least refrain from the whispering and gawking that was so painfully obvious.

Finally Mel reached the dining area. There, many of the riders sat around joking and talking in small groups. Since the majority of the members of the White Dove were male, Mel spent most of her meals alone. Though, she usually welcomed anyone who came to sit by her. Mostly it was to talk about business. Sighing, the exhausted female sat down and waited for breakfast to be served.

@bluetommy2@Knight of Doom@RainDash

Without skipping a beat (on Melaniya's part), Freya came out of the kitchen with two trays stacked with various bread bowls containing the same thing : stew. Like usual, the tantalizing scents of onion, garlic, thyme, and a plethora of other spices and vegetables seared by pig's fat wafted into the mess hall, arousing a sort of silent reverie at what was to be served. For the first time Freya pulled kitchen duty, barely anyone had eaten her foods out of fear of poisoning. When one of the younger Riders took a taste and began to devour his portion, everyone followed suit, and so Freya's cooking was something to be appreciated, however rarely it came.

As "broken" as a dragon as Freya was, she had good enough energy to keep up with the chores whenever she wasn't outside doing reconnaissance. That itself was a blessing for the more frail midwives and servants.

Without ceremony, Melaniya was handed a bread bowl, and so also the other Riders all 'round (regardless if they had already eaten or not). She had not a promiscuous mien like many of the Riders lusted for on their journeys, and for good reason. She had the same sway, unnervingly, as though she had been a human her entire life. A gentle smile, a soft voice, a kind of warmth exuded from her being, warmth that many of the Riders did not feel for those first few months after they lost their own matrons in their crusade against the dragons.

Those who still could not feel the warmth probably thought something along the lines of : "...that conniving bitch..."

And as Kieran made a mess of himself, Freya was gone, and the stifling, cozy warmth left along with her. Quietly, she knelt down besides him, and flipped him onto his back, so he wouldn't be inhaling the grout.

With a soft smile towards Daz, Freya left the scene...only to return with a bucket of water. With great gusto, she splashed his face with its contents before dropping the container on his face.

"Uppity up! Sun's 'bout to rise, and I suspect the Master will call us soon. You're no longer a child, are yeh?"

@BytheSpleen

Kieran spat and woke up, he quickly sobered up in the cold water and returned to his usual disposition, a frown upon his face, and nothing on his mind. Without even a hello Kieran spat out an order "I'm gonna need you to clean up the armory, and I'm not asking, I'm telling." He stood up and held his head, he'd bumped it quite a few times while stumbling through the halls.

As he walked past Freya he turned to her and frowned even more. "And tell the others to stop putting my stuff in the back corner. He looked around for a second before coming closer to Freya and saying softly "If anyone bothers you, as always, you know who to call." And with that he was off.

Kieran walked into the kitchen silently, he sat down at his table, which had his food upon it, no one had eaten it as usual, that kid who tried to left the guild and hasn't been seen since. Kieran picked up his bread and scarfed it down. It was at this moment that he realized how quiet the place was, and how everyone was staring at him, him entering a room seemed to do that. Kieran ignored it and moved on to drinking his water. He drank it incredibly quickly. After he was finished, he pulled out his sketchbook and began drawing. As he did, an audible sigh was heard across the room. He looked over his work, 100 pages of drawings of his mother, and not one of them looked right. He sighed. Maybe this time it will turn out as I wanted.

Zoran had made his way to the mess hall rather quickly, though his slow and confident steps would state otherwise. As he walked, he felt a yawn crawl up his throat and hit the air rather hard. He stepped down the long row of tables tonelessly, thinking of Thora, his duties, and his mother. It had been a month or two since he had left home, now he was riding a snappy dragon in hopes of making the country better.

He sat at a table with food already on the table. And looking off towards the recruits, reached into a bread bowl and bit into the perfectly-made bread. He chomped it twice before pausing, the essence of the bread ran on his tongue. It was delicious. Must had been Freya's cooking. With a glance he found her moving about the mess hall. She was a Dragon but she was a kind one. Even still, he was wary of her all too loving heart. She was too kind to be a beast that was stripped from her home and made to be a mount.

Zoran narrowed his eyes a bit, thinking that he should go visit Thora soon. He wondered where she was? "Probably off bothering someone. Getting into ... trouble," he paused as he swung his legs under the table and stared at The First Rider across from him. The beautiful and enticing. The powerful. Melaniya.

Clearing his throat, he said but one word in greeting. "Ma'am."

@Knight of Doom

Breakfast was delicious as always. Freya reminded Melaniya of her own mother. Though faint in her memories, Mel always felt a warm, comforting feeling whenever she thought of her mother. Freya gave off the same air. Being a dragon, many were wary of her, but Melaniya was trusting of many dragons.

Mel has always had a way with dragons. Many people only thought of them as tools, but to the hardworking female, they were similar to people, only more amazing. Of course, there were always the dragons that wanted to roast all human on the face of the planet. One had to be careful with those, but it only takes a bit of risk and affection before many dragons trust you.

Speaking of trusted dragons, Melaniya needed to find her partner, or in official terms, mount. Starved from her extensive exertion, Mel started eating.

Suddenly, the preoccupied individual heard a noise and looked up. It was Zoran, one of the riders under her authority. "Ma'am," he greeted.

It took a moment for Melaniya to gather herself. "Hello, Zoran. Is there anything you wanted to talk about?"

@Renny

Avanir was on the roof practicing. From his attic room it was a simple matter of hopping out through the window and climbing up, holding onto the ledge and heaving himself up was more accurate. His swords and spear were up there and he was doing his morning ritual of practising his strokes on the roof. The slick tiles acknowledge how battlefield could get slippy and one must always remain balanced. A set look upon his face he swung the spear, a silver circle the only sign it was there, before lunging forward. Thrusting, slashing and parrying against imagined foes he stepped lightly on top of the tiles as the morning sun beat down on his bare chested body. He stopped suddenly, the spear returning automatically to his side. Sweat ran down in rivulets down his torso as he dried his palms on his trousers. Sheathing his blades he looked around the White Dove Guild. In the distance he could see Sigil with his new dragon. He could see Melaniya coming back inside from her exercise and he could faintly hear the clamouring of the breakfast bell.

Avanir climbed back down into his room and walked to the rack on the wall and placed his weapons in their place. The basin of water sat on the table, the water clean and fresh as he shoved his face deep into the basin and shook it violently. Dragging his face out he felt strands of his wet hair sticking to his face and back add he panted in a refreshed manner. Av put his hands into the basin once more, the cool water feeling soothing on his calloused and sweaty palms. The cool water splashed everywhere as he scooped some up in his hands and tossed it over his body. Not bothering to dry himself he put on his cotton shirt, then his armour. He tightened the straps, then retightened them. Stretching he made sure his armour was fine and non-constrictive. Others might just throw their on but Av would only leave if he felt every odd was in his favour if he was to suddenly be in a fight. He grabbed his weapons, the dagger went in the small of his back. The quiver of arrows and longbow slung diagonally over his right shoulder, his spear poking out over the left and his sword slung from his hip. He picked up the celelyrium whip and fingered it before replacing it on the rack. Stepping he opened his door and walked down the narrow wooden stair down to the hall.

As he entered the normal hustle and bustle was going on; recruits talking, the older guild members eating and relaxing, the staff serving the food. He looked around and spotted Melaniya sitting alone, eating. As he watched Zoran sat next to her. He walked over and sat down, he didn't want to sit with too many people and two was better than five. "Morning Melaniya. Zoran" he nodded, his rough voice raspy. As he was served he nodded once more towards the server before sting his food.
@Knight of Doom @Renny

---

Calahna had been awake since before dawn, having it been a sort of ritual of hers to rise before the sun to meditate. She sat comfortably on the cool floor of the dragon stables, feeling a soft breeze, that came from any cracks in the walls and doors, dance with her ebony locks. Her mind was silent as she drifted off peacefully, though she jerked her eyes open to reveal a soft bluish glow when she heard the sound of a bell.

"I must have lost track of time...." Calahna shook her head slightly' setting herself up straight, stretching lightly before heading to the kitchen. Each step was light and graceful, as if she was gliding across the floor. Arriving near the kitchen, she could hear the shuffling of many feet and the murmurs of the conversing riders.
Just after entering the kitchen, she spotted Dazenth, giving her a warm greeting.
Good morning, Dazenth. Sleep well? She pulled her hair back, exposing her shoulders, after bowing towards Daz.

@RainDash

Cedric stood as still as stone, both hands rested upon the pommel of his sword that served to keep him upright should fatigue take him during his vigil. It never did. Truth be told, the few hours of sleep he managed to muster were always enough, dreamless and dissatisfying he would awaken from it and seek to relieve those on guard duty. They never complained, for it was a task that was often despised by the guilds members. Cedric found solace in the solitude. A time for reflection and meditation, the soundless halls of the keep occasionally ringing out with the muffled cries of those whose demons had found them in their dreams, he envied those troubled souls, at least they could still dream.

Eventually night gave way to morning, light filtered in from above illuminating what the dying sconces didn't, and as the veil of darkness gave way, Cedric was able to see the first signs of movement. Servants dashed in and out of the hall, hastily carrying out their chores before beginning breakfast, something Cedric would naturally avoid, usually ducking in after the others had cleared out. Eating from what remained or whatever Freya had set aside for him. However he imagined Sigil would have a task for him this morning, something to keep him occupied, rumor had it that his dragon was to arrive today, and undoubtedly he would want the dome cleared so he could break in their new arrival.
Off in the distance a procession of men and horses could be heard, the light chattering that carried across the way to him was accompanied by something... big and wrapped in chains of metal. His eyes rested on the corner of his helmets interior, carefully assessing the sound, making guesses about the size of that which shambled along with them. Quickly his eyes flickered up to stare out through his visor, the soft steps of his Guild Master ringing out, just barely caught his attention. He gave his shoulders a gentle roll as he readjusted himself to stand straight and proud.

"Clear the Dome," Sig said, clapping a hand on Cedric's shoulder. "Make sure we're not disturbed. I don't know how long this will take."

Cedric gave a curt nod of acknowledgement, returning his sword to its sheath before striding down the way Sig had just come, just as he had anticipated, Sigil was looking to have the dome cleared for his own use. Swiftly and with due diligence he would set about completing the task, making his way into the mess hall to seek out Melaniya, for he had need of one of her recruits.

As Cedric stepped into the hall the smell of food wafted through his visor and teased his senses. His mouth watered in spite of himself, taking a conscious effort to pull himself away from his baser needs and back onto the task at hand. The First Rider sat at one end of the hall, with a few others for company, more and more people were pouring in and taking seats, making for an awkward passage for one in full plate. Despite this he was able to slip past the others without incident, arriving at the foot of her table.

"Forgive me Mel, I don't mean to interrupt, but I'm gonna need one your boys this morning. If you could send one to meet me at the armory soon, I'd be much obliged." He stated, lingering only long enough to deliver his request before leaving to shoulder his way back outside.

@Knight of Doom

More voices. They were muffled, so she couldn't tell what they were saying. She just understood that the man that had approached them was apparently her new rider. Nyx snorted again, narrowing her lavender eyes underneath the helm. The dragoness could have easily escaped if half the amount of men were around her-- the scalding of the celelyrium would mean nothing to her if it meant a chance of escape. She would have roasted the humans standing before her to a crisp. She would have torn down the nearby human civilization. Her claws sunk into the ground as she relished herself within these thoughts, so much so that she did not notice that her chains and clasps were being removed. It was only when the braces around her wings and neck were being taken off did she realize that she had much more space to move in. She unfurled her dark wings and stretched them out to her sides, grunting as bloodflow returned to the areas that had been clasped. And then came the removal of her bulky helm; it felt good to have sunlight reach her face. Her eyes bore a furious flame that could only be caught by those who were close by or if the sun's rays caught them in their reach.

The same violet eyes wavered towards the dark-haired man standing before her. He held himself with pride and self-assurance, bringing forth a scoff from her narrow maw. He spoke in his native tongue, and unfortunately, Nyx understood what he was saying. The scrawny human was trying to coax her into obeying him as if she were some sort of hound. She bore her fangs at him, hissing at him angrily. 'You are not even worth my flames, you scum,' she reached out to him through her mind, her voice dripping with venom. 'If I felt like it, you would have been ashes on the ground, already.'

Nyx's claws sunk further into the ground. She would love to have flown away by now, but it seemed that the scrawny beast before her would capture her before long. Not to mention that there were probably other riders that would chase after her in no time. The dragon's narrow head tilted upwards and she scowled down at the male. 'I am currently in a sticky situation, but this does not mean I will be your ally, fiend. Lead the way.'

@Tancuras

Daz snickered as the dumb intoxicated human was doused with water by Freya. Maybe she wasn't as broken as Daz thought the other dragon was. As the scene went on, Daz shifted back into her divine form, feeling freed from the blandness of her other form. It was just easier to talk to humans when she looked like she was one too. He bullied Freya, which caused Daz to growl, but then left.

"He's so rude. I'm going to steal all his food as vengence. Or should I hover over his breakfast, Freya?" Daz asked the older dragon telepathically. However, before the other woman could respond, Calahna entered and greeted her. Daz nodded, "yep. You know I sleep better in the kitchen anyway. Ugh, did you hear that there's going to be a new dragon for the biggest, ugliest human. Apparently he got his old one dead. I hope he chokes on a chicken bone."

He made a chuffing noise that seemed to mimic human laughter. Once she was done 'talking' she moved to take a plate from Freya, as she hadn't yet had the honor of her first breakfast. She'd eat more later, maybe scamming her rider out of a few bits of his breakfast. She briefly wondered where the dummy had gotten off to, but decided to remain and talk with the other dragons. She may act like she wasn't afraid of the Guild Master, but it was a front. If he wanted to, he could kill her at any time. She preferred being alive, thank you very much, and if that meant playing the part of the scared, submissive dragon, then it would be easy to play the part.

@PajkaNight@BytheSpleen

Calahna, shifted around the kitchen, taking bits and pieces of freshly baked food for the dark haired woman to snack onto, as she listened to Dazenth's talk of a new dragon. "Ah, So Master Cloudfury's new mount arrives today."
Calahna smiled fondly as she nibbled on a biscuit, showing she was well-mannered; She had overheard the talk of the new dragon that was to become another mount for the Guild. Her smile disappeared when Dazenth hoped bad things upon the Master.
"Must you speak so harshly? We must wish the best upon everyone, whether we like them or not." Calahna knew that Danzenth would not follow so easily to her advice, still, it was worth spreading her wisedom when she could.
"Let's try, at least, welcome our newest of kin. Make them feel safe. After all, the guild is not so bad is it? It could be much worse...

Calahna let her frosty eyes wander the kitchen, noting any unwashed dishes and towels, as she finished her biscuit. It was time to help clean up.
Calahna occasionally helped Freya clean up the kitchen when she saw the opportunity to help, though she was not as fast of a tidier as the mother dragon was. She liked Freya, though Calahna knew she was living an illusion, she wash thankful that Freya was at least happy with her current life... Right?

@RainDash

Daz stuck her tongue out at Calahna, and finished her bits of breakfast. "Yeah, I mean I've seen worse places to live in I guess. But I reserve the right to privately mock the human's leader. Besides, I didn't wish death on him, I just hoped that he'd choke on a chicken bone. Make his stupid human eyes bug out as he gasps for breath."

Daz chuffed again at the image of the mighty Cloudfury choking on a chicken bone. It was comforting to think about their human captors in such a silly light. However, the new dragon issue was going to come up sooner or later, and Daz wasn't in the mood to deal with that particular topic. She'd never liked humans, but to be honest she'd never liked dragons either. They may be the same species, but Daz couldn't care less about another dragon's plight.

"If it asks to talk to me I'll be nice. However, befriending the stupid thing that got caught is not my priority. If I want to leave again I can't deal with baggage like that," Daz said, shuffling around the kitchen to help Calahna and Freya. She was lazy, but she wasn't a freeloader. Besides, it made her more trustworthy to the other dragons. Sometimes she could find her way out of a bad situation thanks to other dragons with small favors. Stupid things always thought she'd come back for them. Daz wasn't stupid. Dragons were never going to be free.

@PajkaNight