Vert

Vert closed the basket of food, lashing it securely shut, and pushed it into the alcove carefully carved into the wall of ice. The basket nestled among its comrades, filling the last of the available space. That should do it. We won’t need to find an outpost until the worst of the winter storms have passed. With one claw, Vert scratched a rune in the surface of the ice on the wall beside the alcove, marking the day of the beginning of their Ration Season.
He turned tail, cold-burning torch in his mouth. Exiting the room, he turned back around to push the loose blocks of ice into their place, walling the storage area off.
“Vert! VERT!” His name echoed down the passageway behind him as he lifted the last ice block into its place.
Aubin! Something must be wrong!
Whirling around, Vert charged towards the sound of his mate’s voice, weaving dexterously through the twisting tunnels of ice. “Aubin!” Turning a corner, he saw the small, pale form of his love scrambling down the passage towards him.
“They showed up out of nowhere!” She skidded to a stop in front of him, thin wings batting frantically. “OUT OF NOWHERE!”
“Calm down…” Vert twined his tail around hers, stopping her fidgeting. “Who showed up out of nowhere?”
Aubin took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. Her wings folded tightly against her thin body. “There are four Imperials and a Pearlcatcher outside.” Her eyes opened again. “They appeared in a cloud of black smoke…and they’re claiming to be from some Kingdom.”
Kingdom…Kingdom? What Kingdom? Vert’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Show me.”
Tails still intertwined, Aubin and Vert followed the tunnels out of their underground home, emerging onto the barren snowscape above. Several paces away from the entrance sat five dragons. They looked uncomfortable, tails wrapped tightly around their bodies and wings folded tightly against their bodies in an effort to conserve heat.
Four Imperials and a Pearlcatcher. Three of the Imperials were full-grown adults, huddled closely around the one was nothing more than a small hatchling swaddled in a dark green blanket. The Pearlcatcher was an adolescent, not quite full grown, and sat on the outside of the Imperial huddle, her large white eyes stretched wide in fear.