Inori

The air is warm with anticipation; the breathing of all the gathered dragons fills the air with the feeling of celebration. Lights hang from stalls as ornaments and the scent of various snacks float up to mix into something pleasing. Dragons of every breed jostle each other in the crowded square, but there's hardly a hint of animosity between even the Imperials and Pearlcatchers. You really do love carnivals. You're not actually sure what the festival is for, as you're just passing by on your way home after a vacation, but the atmosphere drew you in and now you're stuck here for at least the rest of the night, if not longer. It's all right - your clanmates back home will understand.

Or at least they would if they ever find out. You're not especially planning on telling them, because a little time off won't hurt anyone. You fold your wings back as flat as they can go, and weave your way through the crowd: slide between a Guardian couple here, duck past a solid Snapper there, and brush softly against the feathers of a Wildclaw. As a Nocturne yourself, you're picking up on stray mannerisms and habits here and there as you watch, and it's fun to try them on before you pass by whoever you're borrowing them from. Right now you have your eye on a stand a few dragon-lengths away: a Lightning-Flight Spiral has a shop set up for his trinkets and charms.

"Hello! Would you be interested in any of these? There's a little robot here, can't do much yet except follow you around but look how cute it is! Comes in all colours and half of all existing breeds - I think I've got a Nocturne model around somewhere, oh but would you like something in the shape of a friend? Perhaps a significant other? Just let me know, okay? Okay! I've also got all these things here..." And he goes on, barely pausing to breathe between sentences and whipping between this-close-to-your-face and all-the-way-over-there by his items. Hanging around Spirals is tiring, but it's also a lot of fun! You take a moment to adjust, and then you're keeping pace with him word for word.

"Oh man, that looks so cool! How much for-" "And I'm selling food, but only a little because my friend makes it and-" "That looks delicious! Do you think-" "Oh no, let me just adjust that, watch your wings-" "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to knock anything over-" "No, no, it's okay I do that all the time-" And so on and so forth. He flies joyful loops all around you whenever there's space to do so without bothering the other vendors and festival-goers, and you follow him around until both of you collapse in giggling dizzy piles of noodle and bat-wings.

"See you again sometime!" You leave the stand with a happy memory and a few odd trinkets to add to your on-again off-again haphazard collection. You're not sure what you're even collecting half the time, other than things that made you happy when you got them, but you're rather proud of it anyway.

Off to the side, where there's not so much traffic, you stop just short of bumping into a Coatl. She mumbles an apology, in stilted and cautious draconic, and you reply slowly in kind. Soon enough you're both settled down at the edge of the festival, and she shares her popcorn with you while you show her your purchases.

"You have really pretty wings," you tell her. She smiles and laughs a closed-mouth, murmuring laugh. The little robot you bought in your own likeness runs over her tail, and she picks it up to hand it back to you.

"Thank you. I was afraid I would not find anyone to talk to here. There are a great many Faes, and unfortunately I have trouble communicating with them." Her wings are arranged nervously, taking up as little room as she can, and you notice that yours have matched without you noticing. You make an effort to spread them out a little more, in case they cramp - as much as you like making your new friend comfortable, Nocturne wings are meant to wrap around, not fold back.

She ends up being chattier than you'd thought she would be, once you get the conversation going. As you prove more and more that you don't mind how slow the conversation is going, she starts rattling off interesting things, and you spend a good half-hour there before you part ways. You're pleased to see that she looks far more confident, and eventually starts a long-ongoing conversation with a Pearlcatcher.

As the festival winds down, you start looking for the entrance you came in through. Unfortunately, more than half the populace isn't done partying yet, and it's much harder to find anything when everything is covered in moving dragons. You're about to plunk down somewhere to gather your strength when a voice speaks up from behind.

"Hello. Are you in need of any help?" A kindly-looking Tundra stands behind you, her wings spread out welcoming and her expression gentle. She looks like a mother, and you stand up a little straighter to be respectful.

"Yes please. Do you happen to know where the entrance or exit is? I'm looking to head to the inn, back towards the edge of town." You follow her as she starts walking, matching her pace and making comfortable small talk.

"I hope we haven't met before," she tells you as you near your destination. "You smell like a stranger, but I'm getting on in years and you never know." She looks a little worried, and you match the concern instantly.

"No, we haven't met before, don't worry! Your nose is as sharp as ever, and may it remain so for many years to come." You shake her paw, thick fur tickling your claws. "I am glad I met you, though! Maybe I'll see you again some day."

"Then I promise my nose will remember you." You exchange parting smiles, and you go on your way.

The first thing, upon your return home, one your clanmates asks when he sees your loot is: "How many friends did you make this time, Inori?" You just grin at him, and head to your den for some well-deserved rest. Three isn't a bad number, but it certainly isn't any kind of record! Once, you met fifty dragons in one day, and tired yourself out for a week. You'd do it again in a heartbeat, though. Festivals are just so much fun.

Written by cinderrain