It was blisteringly hot, for the Starwood Strand. Fern was sweating through his thick pelt, the damp fur matting unpleasantly to his neck and arms. It didn't help that replanting the Starfall Blossoms was hard work, their surprisingly deep roots demanding a lot of digging.
It was on days like these that he almost missed the chill of the Southern Icefields—his genetics considered that home even if he didn't. Wiping the sweat off his face, he noticed that the fur on his forearms was also thick with mud. He quietly cursed the Icewarden for gifting his creations with pelts that became a massive pain in the neck the moment anyone left the Icefields. Maybe it was the god's way of keeping them in his territory. Typical selfish deities.
His quiet fuming was interrupted by a claw on his shoulder. Viridi had materialised beside him, a sweet (and slightly concerned) smile on her face.
"Hey there, Fern!" she said brightly, "You doing alright?"
He sighed, relaxing slightly, and nodded in response.
"It's just this heat, you know," he added, by way of explanation.
"I had a feeling you'd be suffering out here a little. That's why I brought these!"
She gestured with her other claw, which Fern now noticed was grasping a basket. Grinning, she unloaded its contents: water, rations, and a scattering of peppermints that Acharia liked to make when it got this hot. He tucked into them gratefully. He could almost feel his body temperature start to drop as he lapped at the water.
As he ate, Viridi was uncharacteristically silent. He knew her well enough at this point to know that the cogs in her brain were turning, and that he should probably just let her think.
Finally, she broke the silence.
"Look, it's boiling out here, and you look like you're on death's door. How about you head back to the clan and let me finish up here?"
He started to protest. He hated leaving a job undone, especially when the responsibility would then fall on another dragon's shoulders. She interrupted before he could even start.
"It's really no trouble for me! I've been in Meletia's lab all day and could do with some sun."
"Besides," she added, "I'm more well-suited to the heat than you are anyway."
Her golden eyes twinkled playfully, their sparks plainly reminding him of her fiery heritage. After a brief pause, he nodded gratefully. He knew her various links to the Flamecaller were a point of tension for her, but they were handy on these sorts of days.
And in the same way, his own talents would be useful when winter rolled around. Thanking Viridi again, Fern began to head back towards the shade, hoping he'd have a chance to return the favour before she set off again.
It was on days like these that he almost missed the chill of the Southern Icefields—his genetics considered that home even if he didn't. Wiping the sweat off his face, he noticed that the fur on his forearms was also thick with mud. He quietly cursed the Icewarden for gifting his creations with pelts that became a massive pain in the neck the moment anyone left the Icefields. Maybe it was the god's way of keeping them in his territory. Typical selfish deities.
His quiet fuming was interrupted by a claw on his shoulder. Viridi had materialised beside him, a sweet (and slightly concerned) smile on her face.
"Hey there, Fern!" she said brightly, "You doing alright?"
He sighed, relaxing slightly, and nodded in response.
"It's just this heat, you know," he added, by way of explanation.
"I had a feeling you'd be suffering out here a little. That's why I brought these!"
She gestured with her other claw, which Fern now noticed was grasping a basket. Grinning, she unloaded its contents: water, rations, and a scattering of peppermints that Acharia liked to make when it got this hot. He tucked into them gratefully. He could almost feel his body temperature start to drop as he lapped at the water.
As he ate, Viridi was uncharacteristically silent. He knew her well enough at this point to know that the cogs in her brain were turning, and that he should probably just let her think.
Finally, she broke the silence.
"Look, it's boiling out here, and you look like you're on death's door. How about you head back to the clan and let me finish up here?"
He started to protest. He hated leaving a job undone, especially when the responsibility would then fall on another dragon's shoulders. She interrupted before he could even start.
"It's really no trouble for me! I've been in Meletia's lab all day and could do with some sun."
"Besides," she added, "I'm more well-suited to the heat than you are anyway."
Her golden eyes twinkled playfully, their sparks plainly reminding him of her fiery heritage. After a brief pause, he nodded gratefully. He knew her various links to the Flamecaller were a point of tension for her, but they were handy on these sorts of days.
And in the same way, his own talents would be useful when winter rolled around. Thanking Viridi again, Fern began to head back towards the shade, hoping he'd have a chance to return the favour before she set off again.
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