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.