Flickering light of a torch cast shadows over the spacious draconic lair. The scent of healing herbs lingered around the claws of an orange-scaled male, his piercing green eyes studying a recipe set before him on a clay tablet. Pestle grounded yellow leaves into a mushy paste, before it was gingerly smeared across reddened scales along his side. The scales bore black inky marks or a tattoo, one that depicted thorny rose with a flair of flame streaked across it.

The male's brown-orange muzzle turned at the noise of footsteps from the hallway. A dragoness of great height, bright yellow scales and streaks of orange along her muzzle, paws and tail. Her size was formidable, yet her form bore hidden marks of wear from enduring countless problems and stressful situations. Marks she learned to hide well from her subordinates during her rule, yet could be seen through by those she allowed close. Sea blue eyes stopped onto the male's freshly tattoed side, now streaked with the green paste.

“My queen. I was hoping thee would see my new tattoo earlier.” The tone of apology in his voice was palpable, despite the queen's dismissive huff that would follow.

“Loneth, thee would bleed for hours just to please me. Tattoos are injuries, not marks of loyalty. Wingbinder should have treated thee.” Despite her words, the queen approached the smaller male and her expression softened. Exhaustedly, she sat down upon a nearby cushion filled with gryphon feathers and looked up at her chosen mate. She knew he merely acquired the tattoo to please her, and didn't treat it immediately so she could see it freshly incribed upon him. No doubt, it must have made Loneth feel more masculine but that was not the reason why she chose him.

“I thought you... I mean, thee would appreciate it.” He corrects his speech and bowed his head respectfully, his green eyes looking her over. In spite of his peers, Lonath was a mere bastard. Raised by a non-noble dragoness, though sired by Skrolth during his travels, as a son of Tonitruum noble family, Lonath was of a minor importance in the grand scheme of things. In times when she was only known as Advisor Oitonkath of the Pulchrana family, the choice of him as a mate was questioned by most Advisors, including the former Queen. And yet, she saw in him the burning passion and loyalty that would make him obedient as well as inventive cleverness that made him useful, both traits far more difficult to seek out amongst true nobles. Ruthlessly efficient, he was able to bend the rules where needed to achieve results that made the Kingdom of Air a better place. Good thing he was not a female, lest he could perhaps even pose a threat to her. She trusted him more than most with the power over royal Scouts.

“Thy appearance at the council was appreciated my dear and thy plan to appoint Yriinth was clever. Make sure to not disappoint me.” A mark on his scales as a tattoo made sense now. Her azure eyes gazed into his green, making him flinch instinctivelly. Yes, he was as nervous about his bold plan as she felt. Should Yriinth prove to be a spy for gryphons, the few spies planted in her army will report that immediately. Hopefully, early enough to preserve most of Clawstoppers' lives. Loneth's head lowered respectfully, and he pulled away from the wooden-carved table to lay beside his queen. The tension in his muscles was palpable despite his best attempts to maintain a cool demeanor.

“I will not. Yriinth may not be a spy, but should she meet an unfortunate demise on the field of battle, you would be able to replace her with someone better and...”

Suddenly, a vice-like grip seized his tattoed side and tugged. The green-eyed male's body convulsed in pain and was powerless to stop the bigger pale-yellow dragoness from rolling him over onto his back and pinning him down. Through the slitted blue eyes, Oitonkath curled her claws around his shoulders and sat on top of him.

“Do not disappoint me.”

The torch on the wall flickered out, cloaking the two dragons in darkness.