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A soft scraping noise stirred Cronic from deep within his scroll. Perking one of his large ears, he listened intently to the gentle scratching noise that drifted in from outside his cave entrance. The noise grew gradually louder and louder, as whatever it was drew closer and closer to his cave. Tilting his head a bit, he listened more closely to the steady rasp, similar he thought to something like leather dragging along the stone walls. He smiled knowingly to himself and gently rerolled the scroll he’d been reading before reaching over to place it in the wooden holder that sat by his bed and then waiting, eyes on the entrance expectantly for what he knew approached.
Just a few moments later, a familiar dragon rounded the corner. His scales were as black as deepest night, all except for a few silvery markings that dotted the scales of his neck and the tip of his nose that reminded Cronic dearly of the moons on a starless midnight sky. Over his eyes, there lay a thick white bandage, a remnant of a war wound he had sustained years ago and, standing in the doorway now, Cronic could see that he had one wing extended to gently rest against the wall of the cave, a trick he had learned from Tamarin that allowed him to keep his bearings in the twists and turns of the tunnels as he navigated the school without sight. The dragon paused for a moment, his face half expectant and half unsure, as though he wasn’t entirely convinced he had found the right cave at all, despite how often he’d made this trip before.
“Hey Starflight.” Cronic hummed softly, unable to prevent the smile creeping across his face at the way that relief spread so visibly across the Nightwing’s face. Perhaps being unable to see anyone’s face anymore had made him forget how to hide his expressions well, or perhaps he’d never been good at hiding them in the first place. Either way, Cronic found it adorable how easily you could read his mood from his face alone.
“Cronic! I’m glad I found the right room. I think Tsunami would have confined me to the library permanently if I’d woken her up again.” He stepped cautiously into the room, something which required him to take his wing from the wall and, for a moment, lose his anchor that orientated him. Slowly, Cronic extended his own wing out, letting it nudge gently against Starflight’s chest, grounding him once more in the world and easing another small wave of anxiety as he followed the touch closer to where the other dragon lay.
“Oh, thank you.” The Nightwing shuffled a few steps forwards until, with a little added pressure against his chest to warn him of the edge of the bed, he stopped alongside the whitescaled drake. “Are you well?”
“I’m doing just fine - relaxing after another day of trying to teach and enrich the lives of energetic, easily distracted, and mostly squabbling dragonets.” He finished with a chuckle and gave the Nightwing’s neck a gentle bump with his nose. “And how about you? How’re things going in the library?”
Starflight blushed a little at the nuzzle to his neck but tilted his head a few degrees to expose a little more of his neck to the comforting touch. “The library is expanding nicely. More of our students are using it and our collection is growing faster than ever with each of the tribes now sending copies of their scrolls to the school. If this keeps up, we’ll become the biggest library on the whole continent before long.” His voice rang with an audible flutter of excitement at the words. “If we can find the space to put them all though. Perhaps I’ll talk to Tsunami and Sunny about expanding into some of the surrounding caves..”
He shuffled and resettled his wings and for the first time Cronic picked up the rustling of parchment paper amongst the ruffling of his scales and, craning his neck, he caught sight of that yellow-white scroll half tucked under the black dragon’s wing. Unexpectedly though, he could see that scrawled across the paper were written words. It was all he could do to hold back a chuckle as he pieced together the reason for the visit.
“So many scrolls.” Cronic mused, watching as Starflight shifted on his feet with nervous and excited energy as his mind pictured it – one that reminded him of Clay whenever he was surrounded by too much choice in the prey centre and couldn’t figure out which animal to chase. “I can imagine there are a lot coming through that you’re just dying to read, am I right?”
Starflight’s head bobbed enthusiastically. “Oh certainly! We’ve been getting more in braille too, so I’ve at least been able to keep up with some of the new influx.”
His excitement waned and the smile on his face dropped a little.
“It’s just that..”
“That not all of them are.” Cronic finished. Starflight nodded again, bashfully, as though a great shameful secret of his had spilled out of him into the light where all could see it.
“Fatespeaker has been reading the titles out to me so that I can at least figure out where to properly catalogue them but some of them sound so interesting and we already have such a backlog of scrolls off being translated so who knows how long it’ll be before they get a copy back to me so that I can read them myself.” The yearning in his voice sounded so pained that Cronic almost reached out and hugged him.
“So I was wondering if.. you.. maybe we could.. if it was ok with you..” He stumbled, searching for the right words, but before he could, he was cut short as Cronic’s tail reached out to wrap gently around his waist and, with a small tug, encouraged him up onto the ledge to join him.
“Come on.” The white dragon chuckled, watching relief and excitement erupt across Starflight’s face like the first ray of sunshine peeking above the horizon. He took the scroll from under the Nightwing’s wing as he climbed up and laid across his back, a pleased rumble coming from Starlight’s chest as he felt the soft fur of his mane against his underbelly. Nestling his head between the horns of the dragon below, he listened to the sound of unfurling scroll paper and instantly relaxed.
“ ’A Detailed History of the Icewing Ranking Circles' .” Cronic began. “Icewing culture has long been centered around the concept of hierarchical circles…”
----
Cronic: Me
Art: ukariarti on Twitter
Just a few moments later, a familiar dragon rounded the corner. His scales were as black as deepest night, all except for a few silvery markings that dotted the scales of his neck and the tip of his nose that reminded Cronic dearly of the moons on a starless midnight sky. Over his eyes, there lay a thick white bandage, a remnant of a war wound he had sustained years ago and, standing in the doorway now, Cronic could see that he had one wing extended to gently rest against the wall of the cave, a trick he had learned from Tamarin that allowed him to keep his bearings in the twists and turns of the tunnels as he navigated the school without sight. The dragon paused for a moment, his face half expectant and half unsure, as though he wasn’t entirely convinced he had found the right cave at all, despite how often he’d made this trip before.
“Hey Starflight.” Cronic hummed softly, unable to prevent the smile creeping across his face at the way that relief spread so visibly across the Nightwing’s face. Perhaps being unable to see anyone’s face anymore had made him forget how to hide his expressions well, or perhaps he’d never been good at hiding them in the first place. Either way, Cronic found it adorable how easily you could read his mood from his face alone.
“Cronic! I’m glad I found the right room. I think Tsunami would have confined me to the library permanently if I’d woken her up again.” He stepped cautiously into the room, something which required him to take his wing from the wall and, for a moment, lose his anchor that orientated him. Slowly, Cronic extended his own wing out, letting it nudge gently against Starflight’s chest, grounding him once more in the world and easing another small wave of anxiety as he followed the touch closer to where the other dragon lay.
“Oh, thank you.” The Nightwing shuffled a few steps forwards until, with a little added pressure against his chest to warn him of the edge of the bed, he stopped alongside the whitescaled drake. “Are you well?”
“I’m doing just fine - relaxing after another day of trying to teach and enrich the lives of energetic, easily distracted, and mostly squabbling dragonets.” He finished with a chuckle and gave the Nightwing’s neck a gentle bump with his nose. “And how about you? How’re things going in the library?”
Starflight blushed a little at the nuzzle to his neck but tilted his head a few degrees to expose a little more of his neck to the comforting touch. “The library is expanding nicely. More of our students are using it and our collection is growing faster than ever with each of the tribes now sending copies of their scrolls to the school. If this keeps up, we’ll become the biggest library on the whole continent before long.” His voice rang with an audible flutter of excitement at the words. “If we can find the space to put them all though. Perhaps I’ll talk to Tsunami and Sunny about expanding into some of the surrounding caves..”
He shuffled and resettled his wings and for the first time Cronic picked up the rustling of parchment paper amongst the ruffling of his scales and, craning his neck, he caught sight of that yellow-white scroll half tucked under the black dragon’s wing. Unexpectedly though, he could see that scrawled across the paper were written words. It was all he could do to hold back a chuckle as he pieced together the reason for the visit.
“So many scrolls.” Cronic mused, watching as Starflight shifted on his feet with nervous and excited energy as his mind pictured it – one that reminded him of Clay whenever he was surrounded by too much choice in the prey centre and couldn’t figure out which animal to chase. “I can imagine there are a lot coming through that you’re just dying to read, am I right?”
Starflight’s head bobbed enthusiastically. “Oh certainly! We’ve been getting more in braille too, so I’ve at least been able to keep up with some of the new influx.”
His excitement waned and the smile on his face dropped a little.
“It’s just that..”
“That not all of them are.” Cronic finished. Starflight nodded again, bashfully, as though a great shameful secret of his had spilled out of him into the light where all could see it.
“Fatespeaker has been reading the titles out to me so that I can at least figure out where to properly catalogue them but some of them sound so interesting and we already have such a backlog of scrolls off being translated so who knows how long it’ll be before they get a copy back to me so that I can read them myself.” The yearning in his voice sounded so pained that Cronic almost reached out and hugged him.
“So I was wondering if.. you.. maybe we could.. if it was ok with you..” He stumbled, searching for the right words, but before he could, he was cut short as Cronic’s tail reached out to wrap gently around his waist and, with a small tug, encouraged him up onto the ledge to join him.
“Come on.” The white dragon chuckled, watching relief and excitement erupt across Starflight’s face like the first ray of sunshine peeking above the horizon. He took the scroll from under the Nightwing’s wing as he climbed up and laid across his back, a pleased rumble coming from Starlight’s chest as he felt the soft fur of his mane against his underbelly. Nestling his head between the horns of the dragon below, he listened to the sound of unfurling scroll paper and instantly relaxed.
“ ’A Detailed History of the Icewing Ranking Circles' .” Cronic began. “Icewing culture has long been centered around the concept of hierarchical circles…”
----
Cronic: Me
Art: ukariarti on Twitter
Category All / All
Species Western Dragon
Size 2217 x 1662px
File Size 2.19 MB
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