"Trymmie? Someone was in here?" Kylia frowned at the white dragon Trymmeth, who had lain down, tired.
Yes... Trymmeth said slowly, dragging the word out.
"Then why, under the suns, didn't you tell me?" she demanded.
You did not ask. And it was only a bluerider. Kylia groaned, throwing herself on her bed, as Trymmeth's eyes hinted yellow. What is wrong?
"Only a bluerider? Trymmie, you're going to fly soon, and no wonder they all come here to sneak a peek and--"
I would not let them harm you. We are one and NOTHING will come between us! Trymmeth said vehemently.
"Trymmie, I'm sorry. Would you mind telling me which bluerider, then?"
Trymmeth's eyes whirled. Shard, rider of Jeremoth.
"Oh, the Diamong wingthird? I saw him awhile ago." She shrugged. "Then I guess it's okay." Kylia sat up, peering at Trymmeth. "Trymmie... No, nevermind."
What is it? Trymmeth tilted her head.
"..." She scratched her head. "I was wondering... if there's any way, you know, to pick a certain dragon in a mating flight..."
You mean, Jeremoth?
Kylia turned beet red. "No!"
Trymmeth snaked her head over to her rider, crooning. I like that idea.
"Oh, lovey..." Kylia stroked the white's eye ridges, smiling gently. "Do you have a crush on him?"
Hardly, Trymmeth said indignantly, snorting.
"Sorry, dear heart. But really, is there?"
... Yes. It only works, though, if the dragon does not tire before the others. All one must do is wait for the right moment to let them catch you. She cocked her head again. If it is not Jeremoth, then who do you want me to catch?
In the silence, she got her answer.
