The wind smelled of roasting meat and grains and laughter floated on the air. The flickering glow of flames licked at the path outside of the GuiderDragon's cave, giving the place a homey, welcoming feel. The Greatfire was lit far beneath the cave in the space between the curved cliff faces. Even from the air, the fire was obviously sizeable, blazing heartily and casting it's loving warmth and light far up the faces, lighting every path and cavefront. The translucent wings of flying dragons glowed their colors with the light shining through the webbing, creating a dynamic mosaic of fluttering color. The bright stars overhead winked down on the sight of joy and peace.
GuiderDragon Azmirian smiled down at the nightly bustle of his clan. Zhinmoveir, the clan of color. The Greatfire's light caressed his face gently, illuminating his compassionate smile and shining eyes. Rarely did a night pass that he left this post. He gleamed with pride at all these dragons had accomplished, all they had been graced to achieve. After StarGuiderDragon Chielmo's untimely death twelve years ago, the clan was shaken to the core. The neighboring clans were restless and hungry for members and land. Without a steady eye and careful footing, everything could have fallen. Azmirian was young, a mere twenty-eight, still an adolescent, and not at all special in his own eyes. Yet, it was unanimous that he be raised to the position. He was terrified, the first night in the GuiderDragon's cave was filled with night torments and ghosts of the past. The place smelled of the GuiderDragon Chielmo, but he was gone for good, and this tiny dragon who was barely old enough to go on hunts and not at all ready to be on his own was elevated to such a height. It was an awful night, possibly the worst of his life. Food was provided, as always was done for the GuiderDragon, but his parents had to stay at the family home. He knew it was better that way, he couldn't seem weak in a time of tentativity and turmoil.
There was one unexpected light in the gloom that night. A sleek dragon had entered the GuiderDragon's cave unannounced and without reason, lit a fire, and helped Azmirian become settled. His first words had been, "So, where do you want your nest to go?" Without introductions or prefaces of any sort, the sleek had helped the attack dragon without asking for any compensation. At the end of the night, the two knew each other very well. Azmirian told stories of his humble past, and the unexplained sleek had proffered stories about his own adventures with a dragon named "Ti-iriel." Azmirian knew nearly every dragon in the camp, at least names, and there was none by that one. They were good stories though, full of wonder, yet the dragon was only a young adult, couldn't have been more than fourty-five or so. Eventually, the sun had come up and he stood to leave. Upon Azmirian's request for his name, he had gotten the response, "Ti-iyian." The crazy one, as he was usually called. The terrified GuiderDragon had asked Ti-iyian to live with him, if only for a time--
Then the dragon of his thoughts approached. Azmirian smiled instincitvely, turned his head to face the same sized dragon and touched noses with him in greeting.