Roleplay

Kala tapped her foot impatiently for a moment as she stood outside, before eventually deciding to walk in. She padded up close, leaning down to shake his shoulder.

"Wake up, dragon," she said softly, "it's breakfast time. You've Got a long journey ahead of you."

The imperial practically bounced off the ceiling by how fast he jumped. He stuck the landed with a little bit of grace.

" 'Morning."

He ran a hand through the fur on top of his head and put his beret back on.

"Right, lead the way."

Kala muffled a chuckle with her wing, and led the tundra back to the common room. Aharon had gone by then, though dragons were starting to wake up and go about their day. Breakfast was already prepared, all made of high energy and filling food.

"We have some food to send with you as well, if you need it," said the pearlcatcher, "we know the journey will take at least a few weeks, assuming you're headed out of the wasteland. Litlle less if you fly I suppose."

The tundra scarfed down the food at an extreme rate. After cleaning the plate he was given he cheerily stated.

"As they say. Eat your food now, taste it later. Thank you for the offer on rations , I have my own however."

The pearlcatcher nodded, but didn't get a chance to speak. The room had grown suddenly silent, and many dragons moved quickly away from the center. From out of the tunnel emerged a wildclaw. She was athletic looking, with grey tone scales. She looked regal, and more to the point, young. She couldn't have been more than middle aged at the oldest. And what looked at first like an ornate darksteel headdress and jewellery proved to be a heavy muzzle and an arrangement that could be used as shackles. She had a jeweled collar around her neck that was probably used to suppress magic. It all looked slightly damaged, or at least riddled with scratches. The clan still shrank back from her in terror and reverence. Aharon followed. He had left the cloak behind in favor of a few pieces of official looking armor and decoration, though he seemed to carry no weapon. Though the multitude of eyes down his side's were closed, they wouldn't have been the most striking feature. The large imperial had two slender necks sprouting from their broad shoulders. Each had one staglike antler, and one carved down into a spike to avoid tangling. Though both heads' eyes were equally black, one had a much kinder face. There other, and presumably the one in charge of their shared body, had a cold and serious gaze. [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=45390249] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/453903/45390249_350.png[/img] [/url] The imperial wore a specially made saddle, on which the wildclaw would presumably ride for the journey. The two- three of them approached the tundra, though the queen didn't speak, and Aharon's one head announced that they were ready to go.

The tundra let out a short quiet whistle. He quietly muttered under his breath.

"Dam, im wearing my dress uniform and still I feel underdressed for the occasion."

He straightened his beret before puffing out his chest while proudly raising his head. He trotted briskly to meet them in the middle. Once he got close he stopped, removed his beret and pressed it over his chest and gave a shallow bow.

"Greetings. I will be your escort today. I am Courier Eleven, but please, call me Jacks."

"Very well," grunted the imperial.

Silth said something, but the words were jumbled as they came out. Her voice sounded more like an animal hiss at the end, and she looked at the tundra as if she may pounce. Her deep purple eyes were wild beneath the iron mask that kept her jaws too restricted to bite. Sparks of magic jumped from her claw tips as she clenched them around something intangible.

She would have torn the courier to pieces, if not for the shackles and Aharon's large head between them. "Easy m'lady," he soothed, "these are our allies, remember? It is only a diplomatic mission. We will return home soon enough."

The other head still hadn't made a sound, but frowned at the exchange. He flicked his snout encouragingly, to let the tundra know that he could start walking. And should, the wildclaw was obviously quite mad and just as volatile. She clambered up onto Aharon's back eventually, and the large dragon began to walk after the tundra.

Jacks knew when to take a hint, especially when the alternative was about as good an idea as a long walk on a short pier. He lead the imperial towards the entrance.

It was still uncomfortably, unfortunately, hot outside. But then, it usually was in the Boneyard. The setting sun promised that the dramatic shift into the frigid cold of night would be soon.

Aharon had no trouble keeping up with the tundra, as he had a long and purposeful stride. He had large wings as well, and would have been perfectly content to fly as well as walk.

The tundra trotted up at the front of the group. As they left the entrance, the tundra turned northeast and began a decent paced jog.