Far above, Celes rides slow currents even higher into the sky, nigh on gliding on warm winds. Its easy here, in this lush garden of horrors. The breath of plants kept currents steady, unbothered by the surface of the ocean, the shapes of cliffs, the twirling of an everlasting tornado. Its brighter too, no infinite waters to swallow the light, only trees to reflect it back up. Perhaps it would be nicer under the canopy, but he isn't looking forward to getting stuck in that maze. The thing that sticks out the most to him is just how loud it is here, a constant cacophony of birds screaming, insects buzzing, and dragons chattering assaulting the ears. The quiet shuff of water on sand is preferable any day.
He still isn't sure what possessed him to come, to lash his tools to his side and leave behind his den. And yet, the hawking cries of merchants settle again in his head, how one poor merchant had pushed forward a son that barely knew where he was, begging the strong to go out, to fix it. Before he'd known it, a waterproof scroll had been pressed into his talons, and he'd gone on with his day only leave the next. Now he was here, in a vibrant hell hole, already down on treasure because he'd needed a gods accursed map. They called this place the Verdant
Labyrinth for a reason.
Taking a deep breath, he flicked his tail and angled his wings downward, drifting in as tight of a spiral he could manage. The smells of flowers and fruit and vendors cookings hit his nose as he comes into range, and he sneezes. Celes hits the ground shortly after, not as soft a landing as he would've preferred, one that makes his bones crackle and old wounds ache as well as leaves skid marks in the ground-bound flora.
Ignoring the faces the various dragons around him make, he scans the crowd. Vendors hawking wares and snacks, oh, those chocolate covered Mangos look good, and others just stand around and look. Likely tourists, unfortunately just like him. The scroll lists an archer as the individual who would lead whoever managed to show up. So the little Skydancer off to the side there, the color of sweet melons and painted blush, covered in ornamentation but holding a bow is probably the best bet. He shakes himself out, settling muscles tired of flight and knocking the braids and beads of his mane back into place, folded his wings, and approached.
The little Skydancer was even stranger up close, covered in tassels and golden ribbons, with a golden head piece all but covering his eves. Wouldn't that get in the way? His own hat keeps the sun out of his eyes for the most part, at least. Celes offers a curt half-bow the the stranger, he's definitely the senior of this glittering green and pink pup, and asks "
You are the archer Theo? Who leads the hunt?". The twisting accent of the seas touches his words, but does not distort them. He doesn't give his own name, it is not yet needed, but he does offer the merchant's scroll to the little dragon, still tied neat with red wax string, small to his talons, but considerably large compared to the Skydancer.
(Start of RP here)
