Snippet #2219933

Gaelwen watched the younger pair as they flew next to her and Firroth. They flew well together. Mal'irahc was just as much a showoff as Firroth, but he was strong and sure of himself.

He is sure of himself, to think he can best me! Firroth's voice singsonged within Gael's mind.

The elf let out a soft sigh. Life is not always about racing, Firroth.

Yes it is. A race against death! We shall win that one, too.

Do not get cocky, now. The dragon let out a soft snort, but Gael continued. We should let them get back to their training. Come, let us gather food for dinner.

Shall I catch a stag for you riders? Firroth asked in an amused voice. She knew that few of them would eat any kind of meat, her own rider in particular, and she thought that it was completely ridiculous. She would always take advantage of a moment where she could tease Gael about the matter.

No, my love. But do get yourself one. I will gather what I can. Let Mal know that we are leaving. Gaelwen watched the other rider for a moment, waiting for the message to be passed, then she gave a wave before Firroth broke off in search of a herd she could hunt and a place to drop her rider off.

The dragon found a decent enough clearing and flew low, dipping one wing toward the ground. With a brilliant smile, Gaelwen stood atop her saddle, balancing for a moment, then she leapt gracefully and landed with a roll before popping up on the ground and watching as the green beast flew off once again.

Don't eat too much, you great oaf, she teased fondly. Then, she took off running through the trees in search of some fresh greens and berries for dinner.