Cinnabar

(All typed up super quick w/o editing; subject to change.)


Uncharacteristically aggressive and confrontational for a Pearlcatcher, Cinnabar left her previous clan in a huff after a ruthless war of slander drove tempers higher than anyone would have preferred. She flew for far longer than she should have, the air around her cooling long before her temper did, and eventually dropped down with a muffled whump, only realizing that she'd traveled all the way from the black sands to the icefields when she was buried in a mountain of snow.

And, well, she could hardly go back, could she? Even if she turned around right then, it would be the hours before she made it to the Annex, and she'd be terribly bedraggled after so much exertion with so little rest. She would fuel the gossip mill for months. Oh, look at Cinnabar, such a mess. Terribly hot temper, that one; did you hear what she did after that tiff with Tanzanite?

No, it would be better to wait a few weeks. Things would die down soon enough, and in the meantime, she would just... be here... in the cold, and the wet, with nothing and no one around her.

---

While she was having a perfectly justified sulk, clutching her pearl close and huddling on an outcropping, a Mirror startled her by popping out of nowhere. Though really, how had she missed such a stark black dragon against the snow?

(Pitchglass found a soggy, gloomy Pearlcatcher brooding in one of her prime hunting spots, and let her irritation show in the flare of her fins. This was pathetic, really. She wouldn't even bother to ask what the problem was until the pitiful thing had gotten dried out.)

The Mirror prowled towards her in a distinctly nerve-inducing manner, and Cinnabar shied away, edging backwards. The other dragon kept coming closer, easing them into a turn as she did so. It took a good few meters for Cinnabar to realize that she was being herded, which was so insulting that it catapulted her right over the bubbling unease, at least enough to let her stand her ground and start squawking out indignant protestations.

She went on for a long while, objecting to everything from the distinctly predatory behavior to how beastly rude it was to sneak up on someone, she should really have a bit more courtesy, she hadn't even given her name before she'd started trying to steer her like a flock of not-sheeps!

The Mirror let her get through her tirade without saying a word, and eventually, her furor died down. She trailed off into an awkward, lingering silence, the both of them staring at each other, though the Mirror's gaze was unsettling in its intentness.

The quiet had stretched on for long enough that she wad starting to get anxious when the Mirror broke it with a rough, sharp laugh.

"Prissy little thing, aren't you?" she rasped, not giving Cinnabar time to properly swell with indignation before she went on. "Name's Pitchpool. You're in my territory, looking like you tripped headfirst into a polynya, so you're coming to the den to get warm before you freeze to death, firefly."

Cinnabar bristled at the casual presumption, wanting to protest that she'd be just fine on her own, but reigned herself in. It was true enough that she might, perhaps, be in a bit of trouble; she had done some roaming in her years, but never to this miserable little ice shelf, and she wasn't sure how she'd even get back. Not least of all was the fact that she had no idea how to find food or shelter, and she had hardly thought to bring any cindershrooms along.

With a very put upon air, she adjusted her grip on her pearl and gestured broadly. "Then lead the way, O honored host."

The Mirror -- Pitchpool -- just snorted, crests briefly flattening, and started stalking in the direction she had been herding Cinnabar in, not even looking back.

Cinnabar scrambled to keep up, nearly tripping over her pearl as she stumbled through the snow, then called out as a thought came to her. "I'm Cinnabar, by the way! Don't call me firefly!"

Pitchpool didn't respond, but the shift of her tail seemed distinctly amused.

---

After a miserable slog through dense slow and over slick ice, they seemed to finally be getting close to their destination, seeing as there was another dragon who perked up and started hurrying towards them when they came into sight.

He seemed boisterous in a way that didn't match up with her terse savior at all. A Guardian, too, which wasn't all that odd-- those dragons would latch on to some strange things; there had been one in the Annex who diligently guarded one particular patch of sand--but she was pretty sure that Mirrors were an isolated species, for the most part. She certainty hadn't noticed them having a tendency to socialise; the few she had met were a surly sort, speaking to other dragons with short, clipped sentences and dropping words almost entirely when interacting with each other.


[Info exchange btwn P/E, discussion of kther clan members (T+V?), intro of C, taken to den]


...It probably wasn't the worst lair to ever have been constructed, she thought ungraciously, but it was a far sight from what she was used to. It seemed like the bulk of it was made out of packed snow, shaped into walls around a roughly carved out living space. When she ventured closer, she saw that it extended into a cave, where a lopsided little fire burned merrily.

She could have looked over the place with a more critical eye, judging the uneven edges of the stone and the way they hadn't even bothered with a chimney chute, but the moment she caught sight of the flames, every other thought was put to the wayside in favor of getting as close to that warmth as she could.

[Etc etc etc]

[When she warmed up enough to see that state of their home, she basically decided that she was going to do something about it + stay until she fixes things up.]

[Spoiler: she stays, period. She gets attached to this little band of misfits.]