Rosethorn

Rosethorn will eventually link up with the swarmlet and travel with them, much to Shadiya’s annoyance. The older dragon has little to no respect for Shadiya’s authority and pretty much does whatever she wants. She’s aggressive but has no particular agenda other than to satisfy her whims. A potential queen herself, she might actually be capable of taking over the swarmlet but doesn’t want to be bothered with leadership responsibilities. (Besides, secretly she thinks Shadiya is doing a pretty great job.) All that said, she’s not a bad dragon—once she gets attached to the swarmlet, she takes care of its members in her own brusque, slightly mocking way.

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“Why are you here?” the young queen hissed. Her antennae quivered with indignation, and Rose couldn’t help an amused flick of her own. “They didn’t tell me anyone else was going to be near us.”


“They didn’t tell you anyone wouldn’t be, did they?” Rose quipped. The queen wrinkled her muzzle in annoyance, but some of the force went out of her; her vyrm changed tone, betraying doubt…and also a poorly hidden undercurrent of resentment. Interesting. Maybe this one was smart enough to think for herself, to be more than a blind follower slavishly obeying the Old Queen.


“Where’s your swarm?” the queen demanded, her interrogation taking another tack, and when Rose just lifted her antennae and glanced significantly around at the gathered dragons, she bristled again. “Oh, no!” she snapped. “We have seven!”


Because of course that was the traditional perfect number, and nothing else would do. So much for thinking. Rose snorted, her estimation of the young queen going down again. “Who said anything about joining your swarm? Not me. I don’t need to be part of a swarm.”


The queen’s glowing eyes widened, the light in them flickering. It was somewhat disconcerting. “You’re…alone?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” The mocking retort came easily, and the silent laughter in her vyrm easily camoflaged the empty places inside her.

A few made-spun remembered their lives before; most didn’t. She had...flashes. A feeling, now and then. A longing. An awareness of being almost what she should be, but never exactly right, neither entirely like the others nor entirely like herself.

It was why she’d left the Woods, in the end, when the first rumors of going out had started and she’d realized that it was actually a possibility. (She wanted to thump her past self for never having thought of it before.) It had been a tiresomely long journey, most of it spent hiding in the fur of a giant dragon, keeping herself warm as it strode along. The dragon had never even realized that she was there.

In its darker corners, this new forest was enough like the Woods that it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar—and different enough that it wasn’t really home. But it could be, eventually.

And she didn't need a swarm (...a pack...), but here she was, and here these other dragons were, and that was fine. They could all keep each other entertained. (Or at the very least, entertain her.) And they could be backup for each other in an emergency, which she had to admit wouldn’t be a bad thing. Even if they weren’t hers, it would be beneficial overall to have them around.

“Anyway,” she went on, cutting off the queen, who’d been about to say something that would probably have just ended up being annoyingly sanctimonious, “I guess I'll be seeing you pretty often. That’s enough company for me.” She grinned. “Nice meeting you...” she trailed off, and the queen straightened up, recollecting her dignity.

"Shadiya," she said.

“Shadiya,” Rose repeated, deliberately leaving off any queenly honorific, and grinned again when Shadiya glowered down at her. “See you around, then!” Spreading her wings, she darted up through the flowering branches, wondering briefly if any of them would pursue her.

She wasn’t really surprised when they didn’t. Stupid children.