Wednesday - Figure Skating
The two dragons have always enjoyed dancing together, but it's taken them quite some time to get used to performing before an audience. The Winter Games, with its huge crowds of unfamiliar dragons and the critical stares of the judges, are several steps up the difficulty ladder.
Still, it's a challenge Solastra and Sorel feel they're up for. As they finally conclude their performance, the crowd breaks into applause. They bow politely, claws firmly linked, before gliding off to rejoin their clanmates.
"So different from our strange beginnings," Sorel murmurs. He smiles fondly at his mate. "Gone are the days of the dark pine forests, of hiding our dances from disapproving eyes."
Solastra draws him close,
ice crystals cascading off her wing as she extends it around him. "You did so well," she says. It's a simple pronouncement, but the way her many eyes shine, aglow with delight, is more than enough for him. The two of them settle comfortably together while they rest and wait for the next performance to start.
Meanwhile, over in the curling arena, a different sort of dance is happening. The
ice rumbles and shakes as the dragons slide the heavy stones towards the target area.
"How're we looking so far? Overall, I mean," Marcia asks, adjusting her monocle. Tristan's grin is a bit strained. "Not too good -- the other clans are making for pretty stiff competition!"
Cymbeline tosses her mane. "Pah, it's only the middle of the week! Where's your spirit, love?"
"You're right, I'd better keep a grip on it before those ghost hunters steal it," the Skydancer jokes. He wiggles his eyeridges. "There's been quite an infestation of ghosts recently, I heard....What say we check it out after the Games?"
"Why not? Win or lose, some post-game celebrations
are in order. Ah, and Qutaibah -- you're up next!"
