Salpicar

Salpicar knows pain.

He met Adrika before the pain, when they were both Imperials with a talent for hunting. He met Adrika before the Bloodletters found them.

He was not well liked - everything about him screamed to them that he would be Hard, even his eyes glowed red. But he was Soft, like Adrika. Soft for Adrika.

The trials came, and another Soft volunteered Adrika instead of facing the trials themself. Why, no one knows. That Soft will never speak of that, will not tell why he chose Salpicar's mate.

That Soft will never speak again.

His mate would not die in those trials. Instead, she came out changed. Different. Hard.

And Salpicar stays Soft. Soft for Adrika.



The First Nest





They were so small.

It always amazed him how something so tiny could become as large as himself. The hatchlings were Soft, at first glance - expected, since Adrika's Hard genes were a test of strength.

But then there was a solid flash of obsidian, as familiar to him as his own vibrant colours.

He blinked at the little Skydancer, half Soft and half Hard. "Strange," he said to his mate.

"Strong," Adrika chirped back, and he couldn't help but agree. The powerful little hatchling would go far, he knew it.

He remembered the discussion with Demona, remembered her decree. He looked at his mate. "Demona."

The look that flashed across his mate's face would have surprised him before. But the Hard Adrika was more than the Soft Adrika had been. He guessed whatever interaction Adrika had had with Demona was decidedly unpleasant.

"No."

Well, if his mate was so vehement. "No," he agreed - accepting that they would be disobeying their leader.

But the Scribe had only ever led the two of them to pain, and Salpicar felt no regret at their decision.