[IC] Wings of Fire: Distant Storms

[PrankFox]

It was hot, and not the pleasant, damp kind of hot that Hemlock was used to. No, this was a dry, arid heat that beat down on every part of his body with no protection of tall trees. Not like the jungle. In the jungle he could laze underneath the wide leaves to avoid the sun, but here in the desert there was no escaping its burning gaze.

There was no way to escape the burning gaze of the other dragons that stood around him either. He had fled with the others who were escaping Pantala as the strange dragons had seemed to appear from nowhere. Sharp fangs, burning fire, all preceded ominously by the sound of rattling tails. He didn't know where they had come from, and from what he'd overheard from the others he was huddled with, they didn't either. He didn't think they'd even been thinking when they'd leapt out of the side of the jungle over open water. He was just glad they were lucky enough to go in the right direction to hit another land mass.

Even if the right direction led him to this forsaken place. The curious, occasionally hostile, looks he got from the residents of what he'd learned was the Sand Kingdom (fitting) filled him with nervous dread. He didn't know how he was supposed to act, so he just didn't. Instead he stuck close to one of the other Leafwings that he had gotten to know a bit during their flight. A small, pale green dragon with unique shades of purple to her wings called Juniper.

The two of them had been herded into a makeshift camp, if it could even be called that, on the outside of the city walls. Really just a few sheets of cloth strung up on poles that had been haphazardly pushed into the ground as some sort of makeshift shelter for them. He got a hesitant feeling they weren't welcome. He wasn't sure he'd feel welcome anywhere though. Instead he fiddled with the leaves and insects that were in his father's pouch. It gave him something to do aside from staring at the stingers that tipped the tails of their SandWing "escorts." Or wonder if what was no doubt venom that came from it would give them resistance to some kinds of poisonous plants. A curious notion.

"Something got your tail in a twist?" The light, quiet voice of Juniper asked from where she was leaned against his side. They were all wedged underneath the covers as much as they could be. "You've been awfully quiet. Not even telling me about plants."

Hemlock turned to stare at his tail, it decidedly was not twisted, before looking back to her, "No, nothing's touched my tail." The laugh he got in response only further confused him. He shrugged lightly, "Not many plants around her to talk about." Normally he could tell when plants were nearby, speak to them, use them. There was none of that here.

Instead he set his eyes looking around. Landing on the SandWings that stood around them plus a few other dragons of varying shapes, sizes, and colors that didn't match. Supposedly they were here to help move them around to other places. Find a place to stay. There was one large solid black dragon wandering amongst them, silver scales on the underside of their wings that he found particularly strange. Surely black wasn't a good color here. Maybe he'd ask what they were should they wander his way.

[Marlowe]

Bluemoon's claws sunk deep into the soft, pale sands that had been scorched by the desert sun. Her calloused paw-pads were numb with pain as she trudged through the refugee camp and for a moment she cursed herself for not accepting the feet-wraps that had been offered to her by a considerate SandWing. They would surely provide protection against the heat, she had told her. Outsiders weren't used to the fire that brimmed below their talons. But Bluemoon was stubborn. If she planned to live in the desert for an extended period of time, then she might as well get used to its sweltering climate. Even then, the blisters that formed on her soles got to be extremely painful at times, so much so that she had to lick her pads and dunk them in water several times during the duration of her shift. She hadn't even been there for a month and she was already making a fool of herself.

In the confines of the Scorpion's Den, Bluemoon stuck out like a sore claw. Dragons from all over the continent were wont to gather there, but she hadn't seen a black hide or silver scale in the time she had resided there. She had seen some dragons that resembled those of her lineage in terms of their broad shoulders and larger frames… but as far as she knew, she was the only NightWing there. And three moons, did the Den's denizens let her know it. Though SandWings were large, she was larger, and sometimes they tipped their heads up at her with a teasing glint in their dark irises that pricked her scales. Other times, they'd shy away from her in fear and whisper behind her back. There were some that were bold with their queries. "Can you read my mind?" a MudWing would ask with a fangy smile. "Oh! Tell me what I'm thinking!"

Another time, a SandWing deep in his cup of cactus juice asked whether or not his partner would marry him. Bluemoon didn't have the chance to answer before he turned his attention back to his co-worker and cracked a sly joke that made her lips twitch. It was obvious to her she didn't belong. She was an outcast among not only her family, but among outcasts themselves. Hilarious.

Well, she thought as she carefully picked her way through the camp, heavy jugs of cool water swaying from her blue-and-gold sash. At least I'm an outcast with a purpose.

Bluemoon saw herself in these poor, strange dragons. Many did not like them. Pyrrhia already had their claws full with several hot-headed queens and strained relationships between tribes. Why did they have to tend to these dragons who don't even share the same customs as they did? Couldn't they defend their homes? They were weak and lazy, that was what, and they came to take advantage of the hard-working dragons of Pyrrhia. Such sentiments were difficult to agree with, in her opinion. Sure, the influx of new wings was daunting and surprising, but that didn't mean that these dragons didn't deserve a shot at a new life.

Bluemoon blinked the sand out of her steel-blue gaze as she padded along. Many of the refugees were huddled into family groups that stayed in whatever shade that was available. Others kept to themselves as their distant expressions stared into thin air. Then came the ones that stared at her, like the interesting-looking one that couldn't rip their eyes off of her. She couldn't help but give him a smile as she approached the pair.

"Hello. I hope you're faring well. My name is Bluemoon. Would you like some water? It's freshly pulled from the river, so it's still cold." She motioned her claws towards the jugs at her hips. The fastest way to get someone to open up was to offer respite from the heat.

[PrankFox]

Hemlock hadn't really meant to stare, but his gaze seemed to catch the attention of the black dragon. He could now see that her scales actually leaned towards the blue side of black once she got closer. Neat. The only black he ever saw on dragons was the occasional Hivewings he saw flitting about the jungle. He was used to green which there was very little of here aside from his own tribe. If he could even consider them that.

"Faring as well as we can be," Juniper smiled thinly at the larger dragon. "Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you," she reached out to take the offered water, passing it to Hemlock first before taking some for herself. "I'm Juniper by the way, this is Hemlock." Her leaflike tail flicked out to lightly gesture backwards.

He was more focused on the water then what Juniper was saying to the large dragon, who he only just caught was named Bluemoon. Odd name. It was cool and crisp and ran the grains of sand out of his mouth which was more of a relief than he'd expected. How did these dragons stand it? He would go crazy always being in the sun, walking on hot sand, and feeling the grittiness between his teeth. It was miserable honestly. He hoped that these escorts they had picked somewhere less bright for them to go next. He also found their solid eyes unnerving, but he felt the need to keep that thought mostly to himself. Maybe if he associated them with beetles they wouldn't be so strange?

His attention was pulled back when he heard his name being said and the tail entered his line of sight. "Hello," he greeted Bluemoon, scanning her build and colors before comparing it to that of the Sandwings. Definitely didn't match. He cocked his head to the side, "What are you?"

"Hemlock!" Juniper's indignant tone chided him, "You can't just ask questions like that." She turned to look back at Bluemoon, an apologetic smile on her lips, "I'm sorry about him. He didn't grow up with a lot of other dragons."

Oh, so that wasn't something that he should just ask. How else was he supposed to learn then? "Sorry." His tone didn't sound particularly apologetic, but that's what he'd been told he should say. He still continued to look at Bluemoon curiously, but he didn't want Juniper to get upset again.

[Marlowe]

Bluemoon returned Juniper’s tight smile, pleased to see that she was willing to accept her hospitality. During her time as a volunteer, there had been far too many dragons that had simply stared at her with empty eyes. Satchels of food would oft go uneaten and others were quick to take whatever jug wasn’t taken. It was good to see that Juniper wasn’t too shaken up from her displacement. She turned to Hemlock, about to question whether they needed anything else, when he blurted out a question that she certainly didn’t expect. Well, that was something.

”No worries. Where I’m from, curiosity is well-rewarded. But I’m a NightWing, probably the only one around these parts…” She nodded to get the point across. ”Our kind has been expelled from their homes on more than one occasion, so we know what it’s like. We’ve kept our pride all the way through, though. Everyone knows us for having strange powers, but not all of us do. Like me. I’m as plain as you and Juniper.”

Her smile became slightly strained as she readjusted the sash at her hip. It felt nice to have one less of the heavy jugs to worry about. ”The dragons here think I’m lying when I say I can't read minds or tell the future or feel what others are feeling. It was annoying at some point, but I’ve learned how to make light of it. It’s pretty funny.”

Bluemoon shuffled her wings when she realized that she was probably rambling. Clearing her throat, she sent a timid glance over at Juniper. "You two are LeafWings, yeah? I never thought that dragons could come in so many colors save for the RainWings."

[PrankFox]

It was pleasing to hear that curiosity was rewarded, at least in Bluemoon's eyes. So he could probably get away with asking her questions then since none of the Sandwings seemed interested in speaking to them. Beyond what they had to anyway. Hemlock had always been peppering his dad with questions all throughout his childhood, it was encouraged by the older Leafwing until he had started changing.

Nightwing. He rolled the name around in his head before filing it away. Once again, like the Sandwings, made perfect sense. The underside of her wings looked like a starry night sky. He wondered if they were little scales or just spots on the webbing of her wings. Maybe he'd find out. He frowned along with Juniper at the fact they'd been expelled from their homes too. Just another mystery to add to the pile.

His eyes were slightly wide at all the things that Nightwings were potentially capable of. He could see why others might be frightened of them. "Wow, that's a lot of different things." He believed her, what reason did she have to lie to them about something like that? "I can speak to plants, but that's not something really useful here." He stared around the barren sands around them, not a speck of green on the horizon. It made him feel more homesick than he'd expected.

He smiled wryly, "Maybe you could make up weird things that are going to happen to them, but not tell them when it'll happen and just leave them wondering."

Juniper glanced up as Bluemoon looked her way and smiled, "Yeah we are. Some of the others aren't though." She gestured to a beautiful light blue and gold dragon with four large, mottled wings, "The dragons with the four wings, that are bigger, are Silkwings. They come in more colors than any tribe I know of." She then pointed to a smaller, deep red dragon with black striped markings, "And those are Hivewings, they're usually pretty bright too. I hear they even have some Nightwing in them somewhere." She chuckled quietly, "We're pretty much green and brown, not much else."

It was somewhat surprising how knowledgeable Juniper was, but he supposed it made since she'd grown up in the LeafSilk kingdom, someplace he'd only heard stories about. And seen in flaming ruins. When his companion stopped talking he looked to Bluemoon, "Would you mind showing me around when you have the time? I can feel my scales rubbing off in the sand." That and he was bored out of his mind. There was absolutely nothing to do here and he was sick of it.

[Marlowe]

Speak to plants? her thoughts echoed. If she was any other dragon, Bluemoon wasn’t certain she’d believe it. Even then, she’d heard much wilder things during her travels. Hemlock’s suggestion on tormenting others made her crack a smile. That was tempting, though she pondered whether the others would pester her more or just avoid her entirely. There was no way of knowing for sure; for now, she much rather kept her mouth shut and solidified the fact that she didn’t know anything about anyone’s futures, lovelives, or deepest, darkest secrets. It had gotten her through things up until now.

Bluemoon closely observed Juniper as she explained the three types of dragons that had steadily migrated to Pyrrhia, only breaking eye contact when she motioned to the others that sat not far from them. The brightly-colored red dragon did have some features that reminded her of NightWings, even if they looked vastly different than she did. ”Now that you explained it, it isn’t all that hard to differentiate between everyone,” she replied with a giggle. Super patterned and pretty ones were SilkWings, very bright ones with smaller frames and black stripes were HiveWings, and then there were LeafWings that bore more natural hues. Simple enough for her.

When Hemlock spoke again, Bluemoon turned to him with a gentle expression. ”I’ll be happy to give you a tour of the Scorpion’s Den whenever you want. It’s my job to accommodate the refugees from Pantala and make sure they’re able to integrate so they become functional members of society. It’s the very least I can do, so no need to thank me for anything.”

[PrankFox]

Juniper gave Bluemoon a bright smile, "They're all very unique as I imagine the dragons here are too."

Sandwings and Nightwings clearly looked very different, so it would make sense that the others were just as unique. Hemlock pondered how many more tribes there were around, how they might look different, and why. His father had taught him how to tell insects apart, which ones were dangerous based on shape and color, and where to find them. Was it the same with dragons? He didn't know. He had asked Juniper about the LeafSilk Kingdom, but he wasn't sure if that was an accurate representation of everywhere else. It didn't seem like it with how skewed this area was to the Sandwings.

Hemlock gave Bluemoon a smile in return, that seemed the right thing to do, "I appreciate it." He wasn't sure he wanted to become a 'functioning member of society' here in the desert. He was pretty sure he would rather pull his scales out one by one than stay in this open wasteland. Maybe he would ask her where would be most similar to what he was used to. She had mentioned Rainwings and that sounded kind of promising. If they were called that they had to live where it rained and rain meant plants right? "Maybe when it cools off a bit, when the sun gets lower?"

"Well, we don't want to keep you from your work," Juniper gave Bluemoon another smile and waved her off. She turned to look at Hemlock, "I'll probably just stay here while you go and get your tour, maybe check in on some of the others."

He gave her a nod, "That's alright." He would've liked to have her come with him, just for something familiar while he was there. He had a good feeling about Bluemoon though and she seemed to know how things worked around here. If it gave him something to do other than sit around and count insects he would take it.

[Marlowe]

Bluemoon nodded at both of the dragons in affirmation. They were all on the same page at the very least. That, and they were friendly. She thanked the moons for that. Many times, even the refugees had tipped their noses up at her and stuffily claimed that they didn’t need her help. It comforted her to see that there were arrogant dragons even on other continents. She bowed her head deeply at them. ”I’ll come back around sunset. Should be cool enough by then.”

Just as she expected, with the descent of the hot desert sun came a gentle, lulling breeze that soothed many weary paws and sun-baked scales. Stained a deep purple by twilight, the sands were much more tolerable to walk upon; they still bore remnants of heat, but at least she didn’t wince when she set her talons down upon the soft surface. The dying light had brought along with it a sense of tranquility that washed across the refugee camp in gentle waves. Bluemoon walked past many SandWings whose eyes had grown droopy with exhaustion. Even the other dragons, like the SkyWings and MudWings that had volunteered to help, walked about with drowsiness in their gait. She was tired, though nighttime had seemingly granted her a second wing; she was excited to lead Hemlock around this tour that he requested.

Bluemoon approached their little nook in the camp, brightening up visibly when she saw that both of them were still there. She walked towards them and stretched a wing in greeting before her gaze settled on Hemlock. ”Ready for the tour?”

[PrankFox]

While the desert was uncomfortable during the day Hemlock found that he quite liked the cooler air of the early evening paired with the setting sun. It gave him a reminder of home when he would climb to the tops of the tall jungle trees and perch watching the sun fall; listening to the plants. He could tell that many of the others were feeling the same relief in the way wings flared out to the dying sun and some others decided to creep out from under the covers to explore a bit.

Juniper was chatting with one of the Silkwings that had journeyed with them, but if he was honest he didn't understand what they were talking about. It sounded like something to do with a council, but he couldn't be sure. Instead he drew absent shapes in the sand underneath him before glancing up as the dark form of Bluemoon approached.

Both himself and Juniper raised their fanned tails in greeting. He pushed himself to his feet at the question and nodded, "Ready as I'll ever be," he turned to look at his companion, "I'll be back later."

Juniper turned to face them for a moment, a smile on her face, "Have fun, don't be gone too long."

He rolled his eyes faintly before turning to follow Bluemoon as she led the way into The Scorpion Den. An ominous name he thought, but maybe it helped to keep others away. There were some scorpions that lived in the jungle that he was familiar with. Their venom was useful for a number of things. Maybe he could find some variants in the desert.

His interest was piqued as they stepped through the arched doorway. It seemed that the setting sun had drawn out more and more dragons. The streets were packed full with all shapes, colors, and sizes. He didn't know the differences, but they all couldn't be the same tribe. He looked to Bluemoon with curiosity "Why're there so many different dragons here? Isn't this where the Sandwings live?"

[Marlowe]

Bluemoon kept the pace as she led him deeper into the Den. They kept close to the walls and stayed well out of the way of any dragon that streaked down the path, stretched their wings, or whatnot. The denizens of the Scorpion’s Den were just as hot-blooded as the desert that surrounded them, SandWing or not. It was best to stay out of the way, especially when the night cooled and the town became more tolerable to roam. It only took a short amount of time for them to reach the bazaar, where stallkeeps brandished their wares as they lined the stone walls. Jewelry, pottery, meat, and whatnot– anything could be found there, and everyone knew it. Bluemoon’s muzzle wrinkled as a hybrid waved skewers of meat like a cat’s tail. Such energetic stall-workers would do anything to sell their wares– and she had become much more wary of them. Especially after that time. Her stomach churned and a shudder passed through her spine. Boar would never taste the same.

As they traversed the bazaar, Bluemoon cast several glances over her shoulder to make sure that Hemlock still followed. Each time she saw him, she was more and more relieved. It would mean chaos if she lost him here. Well, she pondered as she took note of the color of his scales. Maybe not. Now that she thought of it, he did look a bit too unique, even for a RainWing or SeaWing.

She turned to answer his question. ”The Scorpion’s Den might lie within the bonds of the SandWing kingdom, but many dragons, like the downtrodden, shunned, or exiled, reside here so they can pursue new lives.” Bluemoon motioned towards the bazaar with her left wing. ”Many learn crafts or become treasure hunters. Others wander around points of interest, like the bazaar, and offer their strength.”

Bluemoon’s mouth opened to speak again, but she noticed that she was on the verge of rambling. She closed her jaws and watched Hemlock in anticipation. Hopefully what she said made sense to him.

[PrankFox]

The close quarters of the Scorpion Den was nothing like what Hemlock was used to in the jungle. It was cramped and the possibility of bumping into someone else seemed ever present. He stuck close to Bluemoon since she seemed to be able to duck and weave through the swarms of dragons with a practiced ease.

His curiosity piqued when they stepped into the market place. A slew of sounds and smells entered his senses as the stall-workers peddled their wares to the myriad types of residents. It was all so...strange. The jungle was loud, there were birds and insects, monkeys, and the rustling of leaves or patter of rain, but it wasn't like this. The meats smelled roughly the same as what he was used to, but a number of the fruits were unique to him. It was somewhat overwhelming given his upbringing alone, but there was also the smallest twinge of thrill in his chest that made him want to learn more about this place.

Despite the curiosity he chose to stay practically glued to his guide. He didn't want to get lost in the crowd. He briefly met her gaze any time she looked back at him, to make sure he hadn't vanished he guessed. Still, he couldn't stop the question from spilling out of his mouth over the strangeness of this place. He tuned fully into what Bluemoon was saying, a light of interest in his eyes, and nodded to her explanation.

"That makes sense. So this isn't the actual Sandwing home then?" He had thought that is was a small place for the whole of the kingdom to be, but he also had no frame of reference. All he saw of the LeafSilk kingdom was burning ruins as they fled for their lives from the massive, maned invaders. He fought back a shudder as he pushed the memories away. He wondered if his skills would be useful around a place like this. There weren't a lot of plants though so maybe not. He didn't want to stay here anyway, he couldn't stand the dry heat and shifty sands.

His attention was so split, yet at the same time focused on Bluemoon's words, he didn't notice the occasional hostile looks thrown his way by some of the Sandwings. The slight curl of stingers or narrowed eyes of a small group that slipped through the crowd; keeping, seemingly, to themselves and browsing the wares.

[Marlowe]

Above their heads, the night became darker and darker. Its hue was so colorful out in the desert; the stars stood out so beautifully against the backdrop of blues, greens and blacks that sometimes Bluemoon thought she was looking up at the wing of a giant NightWing.

When Hemlock spoke again, she lowered her gaze back to him. ”No, this is the SandWing’s home. They just live here with everyone else. In the past, the SandWing queen lived in her castle in the middle of the desert, but Queen Gila spends so much time here that she might as well live here.” Bluemoon flicked her tail in slight annoyance. ”Many don’t like it, though. Usually the leader of the Scorpion’s Den manages its civilians while the queen is in charge of everything else.”

Bluemoon caught sight of several dragons eyeballing them. One of them, a pale-colored SandWing merchant, gave her a particularly nasty glare. She was probably miffed they were milling around without buying any of her food. Bluemoon ducked her head and strode further down the path.

”Any other questions?”

[PrankFox]

So this wasn't the actual Sandwing city, but it pretty much was because of how much time the Queen spent hanging around? Seemed far more complicated than necessary in Hemlock's opinion. Did that mean that someone else was in charge of the castle while she was here, or was it just left alone until she got back? There were far too many questions swirling around in his head, and he didn't want to pester Bluemoon with them. He didn't know how long she'd been here, she wasn't a Sandwing, so maybe she didn't even know. He simply nodded his head in understanding to the explanation.

He caught the change in Bluemoon's demeanor as they slipped between the stalls, but looking around he didn't know what had caused it. Some of the merchants seemed to give them so odd looks, but he wasn't familiar enough with the area to decipher what they meant. Why did interacting with other dragons have to be so complicated?

When she asked him if he had any other questions he paused in thought. He had many other questions, but most of them weren't very relevant. Just idle curiosities of his ever active mind. There was one he felt would be useful to know though. "So if the Queen is usually in charge of everything else that's not here, but Queen Gila is here most of the time does that mean there isn't a current leader here? It's just her?" He didn't have any interest in talking to whoever was in charge, but he still wanted to know.

Honestly he didn't have much interest in being inside the city at all. Sure it was better covered, but the number of times he'd almost bumped into someone was enough to make his scales prickle. He subconsciously pressed his wings closer to his sides. With his lack of familiarity with bigger cities he couldn't tell where the discomfort was coming from. The sight of the curved stingers, so much like the odd tails of the invaders he saw, constantly brushing scales with strangers, or something else.

[Marlowe]

The pair had slipped away from the main hustle and bustle of the market street and onto more quiet roads. Bluemoon was pleased to see that she could finally stretch her wings without worrying about bumping into anyone or keeping an eye out for any stray stingers. There, the dragons of the Scorpion’s Den milled around aimlessly, taking in the sights of the night sky or eating smoked meats from the nearby stalls. Some Sandwing soldiers rested near an open window, and a MudWing had stuck their head out from inside of the clay home to converse with them. A small RainWing was curled against the cool stone of a storefront, snoring gently in the moonlight. Bluemoon felt the corners of her lips pull upwards. Though these dragons were somewhat unfortunate when it came to money, they all seemed at peace.

Hemlock’s question made her perk up slightly before she turned around to face him completely. Though her words were calm, a shadow had fallen over her azure gaze, as if she were silently warning Hemlock about one thing or another. ”No. Queen Gila’s the ruler of the whole SandWing kingdom,” she said. ”That includes the Scorpion’s Den, the SandWing castle, and the entirety of the desert.”

She flicked her tail dismissively. The SandWing soldiers had turned their ebony gazes towards them in disdain. Well, guess it was time to move on again. Bluemoon offered them a small smile before she padded deeper into the quieter parts of the city where houses were clustered together and windows were completely dark. Her claws scraped quietly against the cobblestone of the pathways as the cool desert wind brushed against her spines. When she was sure that they were alone, she leaned in to whisper into his ear.

”Hemlock, you shouldn’t ask things like that about Queen Gila around these parts. I know you’re new to Pyrrhia, but I don’t know if the SandWing soldiers would appreciate a stranger asking so many questions about their queen.”

[PrankFox]

The quieter road was definitely nicer than the crowded streets. Still, Hemlock kept his wings pressed tight against his body. More out of nerves than anything else. He wasn't used to being around so many dragons, let alone so many from different tribes. He wanted to go home more than anything, back to the jungle where he and his father used to live, but he knew that he couldn't. At least not right now. Instead he focused on the curiosities of the city. He'd seen the Sandwings, but he followed Bluemoon's gaze to the bulkier dragon that was conversing with the soldiers. He had no idea what that was a didn't want to bombard her with more questions. He'd figure it out on his own he was sure.

At his question about the Queen of the Sandwings he didn't notice the warning look in his guide's eyes. The nuance of expression was often lost on him he'd come to find in speaking with Juniper and the others. He hummed in half understanding of the response. If she ruled everything then it felt weird for her to be in one city all the time and not checking in other places. If she did stay in one city he would've expected the biggest place, which he assumed was the castle.

He hurried to follow after Bluemoon as she walked into an even quieter part of the city. He shivered slightly at the cool air but didn't complain. A furrow crossed his brow as she whispered to him, "It's not like the questions are hurting anyone. She's the Queen and that's all there is to it, and I wouldn't know that without asking."

"And out Queen doesn't like you interlopers hanging around," a gravely voice echoed from the shadows between two of the buildings as a troupe of Sandwings stepped onto the more well lit path. Not guards from the looks of them, but the weapons they held in claw were just as dangerous.

The one who spoke shouldered past Bluemoon, planting himself firmly in between the Nightwing and Hemlock with a scowl. His black eyes turned to Bluemoon and he gave her a sickeningly sweet smile, "Why don't you just run along now, no need to interfere with the Queen's business."

As two other Sandwings moved down the other side of the street to pin Hemlock between them he looked between the larger dragons mildly. "I'm not bothering anyone. You all are causing more problems than me making a whole bunch of noise." He could at least tell by the sharpened weapons these dragons were not of the friendly sort, but he'd been minding his own business. His father had always told him not to let others push him around just because of who he was. Of course his father's methods had always been a bit...extreme, but if it came to it he had plenty of fun things he could use in his pouch.

A brief look of surprise crossed the biggest Sandwing's face before he barked out a laugh, "This one's got a mouth on him," his stinger swung around to poise itself under Hemlock's chin, "Think we should fix that before we finish this?" The query directed at the others standing about.

[Marlowe]

It was extremely difficult not to let out a sigh. She almost felt bad for the poor fellow– she wondered how long he was going to survive on the continent without anyone self-aware holding him by the talons. Despite everything, she shook her head sadly at him. He just didn’t get it, did he? She could only hope that he caught the gist of things soon, unless…

Well, if there was anything that SandWings were half-decent at, it was good timing. Bluemoon stared at the guard that had placed himself between her and Hemlock. Oh, this wasn’t good. ”I apologize, but this is my friend you’re messing with. What do you even want with him?” she asked as she raised a wing towards the brightly colored dragon. What she said was a blatant lie– Hemlock was far from her friend. At most, he was an acquaintance, one that she was responsible for for the span of the night. She had to get him back home, and safe. On top of everything, it wasn’t like Hemlock had done anything wrong. Was he foolish? Yes. Did he talk too much? That, too. But did he do anything to upset the guards..? She doubted it.

Bluemoon swallowed a hard lump in her throat before narrowing her eyes at the SandWing that placed his stinger under Hemlock’s chin. If it slipped, it would certainly prick his flesh. She flared her wings, a large scowl spreading over her maw. ”You have no reason to bother us. Let us go.”

”Ohohoh,” purred a dark-scaled SandWing that slunk forward from their formation. Her teeth glittered in the dim moonlight and her nostrils flared angrily as she padded closer. ”Looks like we’ve got ourselves a bug-lover. Why don’t we teach both of them a lesson, huh?”

The purr in the guard’s throat darkened into a dangerous growl. Bluemoon turned to look at her completely as her mouth began to grumble a reply– but before she knew it, the wind was knocked out of her and she was thrown to the floor. She gasped in surprise and attempted to scrabble to her feet, but she felt a paw press down against her neck and the cold sensation of steel against her chest.

”What are you–?!” Bluemoon started, but her voice became trapped right where the talons tightened around her gullet. Spluttering as she felt more claws clasp onto her, Bluemoon’s heart thumped wildly in her ribcage. Three moons, what was happening?! Had Gila already sent her lackeys after them? She heaved her head towards Hemlock and coughed out a single command with all of the energy she could muster. ”RUN!”

[PrankFox]

Friend? That was a strong word for Bluemoon to use when he had only met her that morning. Hemlock wasn't sure if he'd ever had someone that he could call a friend before. Well, he supposed Juniper was his friend now too. These Sandwings though? These Sandwings were decidedly not in any way, shape, or form friendly. He might not know a lot about interacting with other dragons, but he did have enough knowledge to know that the stinger sitting under his chin was very dangerous.

A chorus of laughter from the troupe echoed around the empty streets as Bluemoon spoke. The presumed ringleader who stood in front of Hemlock grinned viciously, "I don't think Queen Gila would mind one less freak in her city."

"Well, that's just rude," Hemlock retorted blandly. The stinger, that had drifted slightly downwards shot back up to his throat with a snarl from the Sandwing. At the same moment he heard the sound of Bluemoon hitting the ground and his eyes flicked over to her. His claws itched to do something but he was significantly smaller than all of these Sandwings. His size would give him an advantage in getting away though and he didn't waste a second when Bluemoon told him to run.

He craned his neck backwards away from the stinger, letting his body follow the movement so that he could roll to the ground and back to his feet, safely under the stinger that swung for his head. A spear thudded into the ground next to his foot as he leapt away, hooking his claws into the sandstone of a nearby building to haul himself up. The blood was pounding in his ears as he looked to the ringleader and the other, paler Sandwing that had thrown the spear at him. He knew he didn't have more than a moment before they came after him but he couldn't leave Bluemoon on the ground, pinned with claws around her throat.

A sadistic gleam entered his eyes as he pulled his bag that always hung around his neck to his front, tucking himself further back on the roof out of sight. He had plants in there sure, but insects also loved plants, and he had collected a solid number that lived in his little ecosystem contentedly. It took him only a second to stick his claw in and find the little critters he was looking for. A small troupe of ants with massive jaws. Normally harmless on dragon scales, but not everywhere was scaled.

"Can't get away that easy little insect," the pale Sandwing pulled himself up on top of the roof with a flap of his wings, spear in claw.

"Interesting choice of words," Hemlock grinned back at the Sandwing. Instead of turning to run away he leapt towards the larger dragon, a push of his wings getting him up above the Sandwing. A shake of his claws both agitated the insects there and jostled them free, directly onto the face of the Sandwing who was staring up at him, spear poised to attack. The moment the ants hit his face they made a beeline for the Sandwings nostrils and eyes, snapping down with thick jaws which had the other dragon screaming in agony, stumbling backwards off the roof.

Hemlock couldn't help but cackle as the dragon pawed at his face, writhing on the ground, as he fought to get the biting insects off. The ringleader glared up at him, in both rage and horror, as he pulled back and jumped over to the next roof, closer to Bluemoon so he could try and help her. Hopefully without getting a stinger lodged in his back.