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Ksathren's wings cupped the dense air of the late Fall, his talons leaving long parallel furrows in the packed earth of his sire's favorite lounging spot. His approach was too fast, reckless even, but the sensation of snowy earth parting against his talons as he skidded to a halt was one he always found time to enjoy.

"You'll break one of your fool claws clean off someday, you know," said his father, not even lifting his head to deliver the rebuke. A few of the other dragons from the ar-adai, most of them frail with age or injury, lifted their heads to glance at the newcomer before settling back down to rest in the warm afternoon sun.

"I haven't yet, have I?"

"No, not yet. All it will take is a large enough scrap of buried ceramic or maybe just a nice big rock to put and end to your foolishness. Perhaps the ancestors would do me the favor of having you break your neck in the process. At least then I could rest for once without you pestering me." It was just his father's usual grumbling and complaining; the words carried no real ire and only a definite wish to go back to sunning himself in the chill afternoon air peacefully. With a small sigh, the resting dragon gave an absent shake of his mottled gray wings. "What is it that you want from me, ssra-kien?"

Ksathren frowned a little at the word. He was careful to never let it show outwardly, but he always hated being reminded that he was not truly of his father's blood. There was no question that his adoptive father cared for him as if he were kien--a child of his own blood--but remained bitter over his failure to sire a hatchling, something that would never come to pass now, the venerable drake well past his breeding years.

"I'm leaving," Ksathren said, tone carefully neutral. "I came to say goodbye, father."

The older dragon looked up at this, roused from his lounging at last. Ksathren couldn't help but notice that the other dragon, one of the largest and once one of the strongest among them, was easily a third smaller than he was. Hardly unusual, for he'd never seen a dragon as large as himself, but it further reminded him that he was different; an outsider no matter who raised him.

"Gone to chase after your little human at last then?" His father said with a snort of disapproval, sending steam curling about his head in the chilled air. "You know she left for good reason. Did you expect her to live out her whole life here, forever left mateless and forced to climb to and fro unless someone is willing to lend her their wings day and night?" A toss of the drake's head gave a good indication on the likelihood of that. "She is a child of the earth, but not one of the sky, and belongs with her own kind where she can find a mate and a place for herself. You know better than anyone that she was never truly happy here."

"Yes, father," Ksathren replied, his head inclining reflexively in a gesture meant to show respect to the words of an elder, not able to deny their truth.

"'Yes, father,' you say, but still you'll leave, won't you?"

"Yes, I will." Ksathren looked up, muzzle fixed with an expression of stubborn resolve. "But I'm not chasing after her, you know that. She made her choice to leave us, and I respect her decision."

It was true that he wished to see the human girl with which he had become so close to during his hatchlinghood, but that wasn't his real aim in leaving. "I need to find out where I came from, father. I'm tired of just wondering."

"I know where you came from, you hatched here with us! What more do you need than that?"

"Father, you know what I mean. I need to know where my egg came from. You're the one who's always talking about how we need new blood in the ar-adai, after all. Isn't it worth finding out if there's others like me out there? How can you keep me here knowing that?"

Ksathren's father gave a long sigh at that, shaking his head dolefully. "That's the problem; I can't keep you here. You've not been a hatchling that I can command to stay at home since this last summer when Chijarja felt you were ready to take on the responsibilities of adulthood. Responsibilities that, I might add, you shirk by leaving us."

Ksathren growled, suddenly angry. "I don't care! Let someone else have Akarja! I can't even stand her, the way she struts about and brags to any who will listen that she's so favored and chosen to have the biggest and strongest mate to fill her cave with hatchlings. I'm sure even the ancestors are tired of hearing about it at this point." He swiped at the earth with his talons, digging further rents into its surface, half wishing that he was clawing the arrogant dragoness in question. "I'd rather mate a rock floater!"

"Ksathren," his father said, growling warningly and suddenly on his feet in a surprisingly nimble motion that belied his age, "Chijarja did you a great honor by choosing you and Akarja to be mated; her line is distinguished and plentiful. She's sure to be blessed with her ancestor's fertility, and sure to bear you many eggs. It's a shame that you don't get along with her, but I'm sure you'd come to tolerate her, maybe even come to be quite fond of her after a time, especially after you see how strong the hatchlings the two of you produce are."

"So unlike you, I don't even get to choose who I mate. I'm the largest, she's the most likely to bear eggs, and that's all."

"It is your duty, ssra-kien! The ancestors gave you the blessing of a size and strength which none of us have seen in countless years, and going off to die without passing that gift on to those who will come after is the height of selfishness!" His father practically shook with affronted anger, tail giving a sharp lash as he stared his adopted offspring down, eyes bright with fury. "And you've seen well enough how many eggs came as a result of my being able to choose my mate!"

This wasn't a new argument between them by any means, but further exchange was halted by a rumbling growl that came from another dragon that lay nearby, the old and milky-scaled dragoness annoyed at being woken from her napping by the sound of their quarreling.

"I will come back, father. And when I do, it will be with others of my kind if I can find them," Ksathren said, breaking the silence and swallowing his anger, forcing his tail to cease its angry lashing. "Then the ar-adai will have more males and females like me than it will know what to do with. If I come back alone, well then I'll sire all the eggs Chijarja wants me to without a word of complaint."

"Pah," his father said with a snort, turning his head to look away from Ksathren in frustration, any further argument sure to fall on deaf ears. "Without me around to knock all those foolish thoughts of yours out of your head, you'll just as likely be dead as soon as you leave. There are many dangers out there aside from those Chijarja has told you about during your learning years. A few days breathing the poisons of the waste will leave you just as whithered as I am, and about as likely to provide a mate with the eggs that she is sure to desire. But as I said, I can't stop you, so do as you wish-you always have."

That parting shot delivered, the old drake made a rather elaborate show of laying back down and closing his eyes.

Ksathren sighed. He wished he could leave on better terms with his sire. He spent a moment watching the elder dragon lay there, not really pretending to sleep, but certainly considering the conversation over and pointedly ignoring his former charge.

"I will return," he said, curling the tip of his tail around that of the old dragon, "Ancestors guide your claws and lead you to glory, father."

He was almost surprised when his father's tail gripped his back, the pale hide warm against his own, squeezing briefly before withdrawing.

"Ancestors guide your wings and lead you to home, ssra-kien," his father replied, completing the traditional farewell reserved for one leaving on a long journey. He continued, "The one nice thing about this will be seeing Chijarja's expression after she learns you've left. The shriveled old witherwing will be livid at having her plans disrupted."

Ksathren smiled at that, knowing how much his father enjoyed antagonizing the head of the ar-adai. Deciding to leave things on that note, he spread his wings, taking a few running steps before taking to the air, propelled by the powerful muscles of his hind legs.

He circled once, casting a last look down at his father laying there amidst the other old dragons of the ar-adai, his adopted sire's pale hide almost invisible against the light crusting of snow. It was hard to say exactly, but his father certainly didn't have many years left before joining the ancestors. He was a stubborn old dragon, likely to cling on until the last, but Ksathren had the sudden realization that he might not be alive by the time he returned to his home.

Struck by a sudden desire to stay, he faltered in the air for a moment before sucking in a large breath of the chill autumn air and beating his wings with powerful strokes, lifting himself higher. He pushed those thoughts out of his mind, catching a convenient updraft and soaring onward.

As he flew, Ksathren watched the dragons of his ar-adai going about their afternoon business; many were laying near the entrances of their widely dispersed caves, enjoying the warm sun in groups of anywhere from two to seven or-uncommonly-eight or nine.

In these groups, they bickered good naturedly, gossiped, or just simply laid next to one another sharing warmth and comfort.

They all felt a certain kinship to the greater ar-adai as a whole, but it was only within one's adai that a dragon truly felt at home. An adai hunted together, bringing down large prey with the combined effort of its members. Everybody got an equal share, and they licked one another's wounds and nursed each other back to health in times of injury or sickness.

One's adai is one's family, whether linked by blood or friendship, he thought, remembering the words that were told to him during his learning years, far before his wings were strong enough to allow him to do more than fall gracefully.

Adai...

Ksathren felt a tug in his mind and could hear the ancestors whispering to him as he flew. Though the many elders who taught him during his learning years were insistent that he was wrong, Ksathren was certain that word meant something else too, but the whispers were too soft, too far away for him to piece their meaning together, as was often the case.

Lost in thought as he was, a sudden blur in front of him caused him to backwing sharply, breaking the momentum of his flight and leaving him floundering in the air. He felt claws and teeth upon his hide, their touch playful and light, causing him no real injury as he banked sharply away from the sudden attack.

"See? I told you we could get him!" cried a voice, giddy with triumph like a hatchling's roar after taking down their first prey.

"We got you," said another voice, calm but still holding that victorious tone. They were certainly the voices of older hatchlings, playing at being adults.

Ksathren banked about to get a look at his aggressors, tail lashing at the air behind him in annoyance at being so easily set upon. Three young dragons flew along side him, close enough that their wingtips almost brushed each other, each of them beaming toothily back at him. It was a familiar group, the two males and the female having made many similar attempts in the past.

"I was thinking," he said, unable to keep a slightly defensive note from his voice and immediately feeling a little silly at having made the excuse. This resulted in a burst of raucous laughter from them, their tails slapping one another in congratulation and amusement.

He sighed, shaking his head as he flew alongside the ssra-adai-the not-quite-adai. Younger dragons formed these groups just like older ones, but they were looser and more fluid, members ever changing due to the capricious tempers of youth. Though these hatchlings were older and close to passing into adulthood, they spent a large deal of time play fighting with other ssra-adai, and often trying to ambush older dragons. It was how they learned to work together to hunt and fight, and such mock-attacks were tolerated with good humor by all but the grumpiest dragons in the ar-adai. Ksathren wasn't usually the grumpy sort, but the fact that he was the largest dragon any of them had ever seen along with his distinctive and bright coloring made him a favorite target, and it could become quite bothersome.

"Thinking, he says!" Arjural, the youngest and most excitable of the three said with a laugh. "Maybe you should be thinking about watching the air above you instead!"

"You know, you're hard to see from below, but easy to see from above, Ksathren. Your hide is far too bright and blue against the rocks," offered the female in her usual calm voice, the tone of the mottled green and gray female conciliatory. She, Ksathren knew, wasn't the fastest or strongest of the trio, but certainly the one with the best grasp of aerial tactics and their leader if they could be said to have one at all.

With a snort Ksathren turned away, but he couldn't be angry with the group. They were the only ones that have succeeded in catching him despite many attempts, and considering their age, that was something that should be praised despite his wounded pride. "Yes, that's true, Narkara, and you did well to realize this," he said, swallowing his pride and forcing himself to be patient with the enthusiastic group. "You all did very well. I'm sure the ancestors are very proud of you."

Their bright and enthusiastic smiles at this praise were infectious, and Ksathren found himself smiling despite himself. It wasn't really too long ago that he himself was chasing after older dragons and trying to prove himself. "I will make sure to tell your teacher how well you all performed today." This was another custom; an older dragon that was successfully ambushed would usually let the hatchlings' current teacher know of the occasion. Not only did it help the teacher in question follow the progress of the young ones in their care, but it showed the humility of the dragon who had been ambushed, letting all know that their wounded pride wasn't more important to them than the teaching of the ar-adai's hatchlings.

"And you'll tell her that I got your wing with my claws, right?" This from Rskaliras, the other male of the ssra-adai quite distinctive with his dark red scales-an unusual and rare coloration among the ar-adai, though not as rare as Ksathren's own.

"Yes, of course I will," Ksathren said, though in all honesty, the attack surprised him enough that he couldn't say exactly who had done what. "Who is your teacher right now, young ones? Tachros is still mending, isn't he?"

"Oh yes, we have a new teacher while he recovers," answered Narkara. "Oh, here she comes." Ksathren followed the young female's gaze and saw the green dragon that was previously circling at a distance, but was now headed toward them.

Ksathren's muzzle dropped open in an involuntary gape as he recognized the her. "But she only became an adult months ago!" he protested, looking back to the young dragons who all grinned proudly.

"Chijarja said she was ready," Arjural said, rolling his fore shoulders in a small shrug.

Ksathren's further protests went unvoiced as the green dipped gracefully in the air to take up a position alongside him. "I think you've bothered poor Ksathren enough for one day, you three. Go home before it gets dark."

Arjural swished his tail excitedly. "Nivele, did you see? He didn't even know we were there until--"

"I saw, anartra. We shall speak of this tomorrow," she said, words carrying a certain weight of authority that Ksathren would never have expected. "Now leave me and Ksathren be."

"Yes, meartra!" They all said in unison, banking away without argument, though still giddy with excitement.

"I see my charges managed to carry out their task," Nivele said, grinning sidelong to Ksathren. "I wouldn't have expected them to succeed so easily, but they're quite sharp, those three."

"I wasn't paying attention," he said, feeling some of that defensiveness return.

"Of that, I have no doubt. Come and fly down to the valley with me, my old ssra-adai-mate. Perhaps I can teach you a few tricks on how to avoid the claws of hatchlings." She chuckled softly, her wingtip brushing at his with the close formation they flew, the gesture coy and irritating.

Ksathren snorted, not amused. "You've been an adult less time than I have, Niv. Why did Chijarja choose you to replace Tachros?"

"Because she felt I was suited to it, Ksathren. Why else would she?" Her tone held an unmistakable note of pride. "Jealous?"

He wasn't in the mood to deal with the teasing of his friend, no matter how good natured it might be and he glared at her, banking to pull his wing away from hers. "No, I'm not," he said. "But it's clear that Chijarja has finally gone soft in the head with old age if she thought you teaching hatchlings was a good idea."

The comment came out more hurtful than he'd intended, and immediately regretted making it. Nivele gave him a startled expression at the vehemence of his reply, a hurt look crossing her muzzle for the briefest of moments before being replaced with one of anger.

"So says somebody who just got caught by those hatchlings I've been teaching so horribly," she replied, growling low in her throat. "It seems that Chijarja knows just what you're good for; being a big stupid lummox who's only use is to sire huge, stupid hatchlings!"

Before he could even respond to that, Nivele banked sharply, the smaller and quite nimble dragoness raking her claws into his hide and snapping at the base of his neck with her teeth, causing him to bellow out in surprise more than pain.

"Why don't you go to Akarja," she called angrily over her shoulder, pulling into a sharp dive away from him. "She's certainly proven herself to be worthy to the ar-adai, and I'm sure that preening idiot would give you company much more to your taste."

Ksathren watched her disappear, blinking in shock. The small scratches on his back stung, but not as much as the angry words he'd just received. He'd lost his temper with her teasing before, but she'd always taken it with amused patience, never anything like the fiery outburst he'd just been on the receiving end of.

She'll get over it, he thought. It was probably best to just let her go and brood for a while. He'd apologize tomorrow before he set out. He was about to turn and circle back to his cave when suddenly he came across a strange scent in the air. Something about it urgently tugged at his mind, demanding his full attention.

He swooped back and forth, nostrils working as he tried to pick it up again. It's her, he realized, the scent hitting him full force again as he flew, the trail of scent drifting on the air in the wake of Nivele's departure. Her scent was quite familiar to him, having spent many years close to her back when they were hatchlings in the same ssra-adai, but there was something different about it, something that spoke directly to the core of him and called out for him to follow its source. His sudden shiver had nothing to do with the cold.

Ksathren cursed himself, now feeling especially bad about his treatment of her. It was clear to him now; her snappy behavior with him, her suggestion that they go off somewhere alone, the way her wingtip brushed along his own. The only missing piece was her changing scent, but in the air like that it was harder to detect, and his was mind occupied with nothing more than his own problems.

Feeling rotten now, he circled, trying to ignore the scent that still filled his nostrils, calling for him to follow her. It just didn't seem right to pursue her after such a refusal, no matter that it was delivered in ignorance. Being chosen as a first mating partner was a great honor, and it was not a decision made by the female lightly.

And I insulted her, throwing that honor right back in her face, Ksathren thought, bitterly.

He circled for a while more, the scent of Nivele's first fertile season slowly dispersing in the wind. Without that scent, he found he could think clearer. Certainly, he couldn't leave with things like this. Nivele had always been a good friend, the two of them close throughout their hatchlinghood and even on into their recent adulthood. Though she certainly wouldn't want him as a mate now-something Ksathren couldn't blame her for-he at least owed her an apology and an explanation.

Carried away by the chill air, he couldn't follow her by scent, but he figured he knew where she was anyway, making a quick detour over her cave just to make sure that she wasn't there instead. No, she was somewhere he'd not been in years, though he used to spend much time there. Flapping his broad wings, he went further up into the mountains, the trees giving way to bare rock and snow as he went.

---

Ksathren knew that he had predicted where she'd go correctly when he could smell her on the thin air once more. This high, he had to flap his wings harder and more often to stay in the air, and the rapid pace of the trip had left him tired and wanting badly for a rest.

In the sky above there was a large pack of Grand Floaters, their vast and balloon-like bodies hundreds of meters around as they went about their slow migrations, higher than any dragon's wings could go. He was reminded by the ache in his flight muscles that they were the true children of the sky, and dragons merely beings of the in between.

Ksathren heard his ancestors whispering to him again, speaking of a time when the great herds of Grand Floaters would descend to only a few feet off the ground every ten turns of the seasons. But the voice was vague and far away, such a time long had passed. He cleared his thoughts of the matter. Nobody had seen a Grand Floater beneath the clouds in a very long time.

Finally, he came upon the old ruin that lay tucked away amongst the peaks; a small tower of sorts, gutted by some impact long-past. Chunks of ceramic lay scattered about, likely in the same place they've laid for the millenia since the building's destruction, covered and shapeless in the snow, but still essentially untarnished by age.

It was a tighter fit than when he was a hatchling, but he entered the building through a hole in the smashed roof, entering the comparative warmth of the mostly intact first floor. Strange and long silent machinery crowded the interior, the off-white sheen of ancient ceramics dully reflecting the light from outside. He had to fold his wings tightly at his sides to progress, but he could squeeze through with little trouble as he headed for the ancient stairway that led to the underground level.

Nivele's scent was strong enough in the air that he could follow it with his eyes closed, small shivers running through his frame as the pheromone heavy smell dug its claws into his mind, awakening dormant instincts that he was only vaguely aware of until now.

He had a picture in his mind of when he and Nivele used to come here as hatchlings when they wanted somewhere warm and away from the watchful eyes of their mentors and teachers. This was their spot, and they would curl up together for warmth here, talking long into the night before returning in the morning. The memory was changed by the scent that hung in the air though, and he could imagine laying against her in a different way now, his claws stroking and feeling that green hide with a far more intimate touch.

"Niv?" He called, shaking his head to clear the thoughts as he peered into the darkness. She wouldn't want his claws anywhere near her now, and it was better that he didn't think about it, though the primal part of his mind was relentless, and he had to fight to keep such images from popping into his head. "Niv, are you there?"

He heard a quiet rasp, and saw movement in the spot where the two of them would lay in while hiding away. The air in the chamber was cool, but magnitudes warmer than that of the outside, one of the reasons why they had favored the spot so much.

"Go away," came the response, the dragoness' voice a low and angry hiss. "I don't want to see you." He could hear her claws scraping against the floor angrily. "I'll wait here until my season passes. I don't want you or any other male for that matter. Leave me be."

"Nivele," he started, trying to find the right words. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"So what, if you did know, then you would have held your tongue? You still would have thought the same things of me."

"No, I wouldn't. I don't think those things. I was just distracted and too busy worrying about my own problems."

His eyes adjusting to the dim light, he could see her there, curled up tightly upon the furs they had brought here as hatchlings to make a comfortable place to rest. She wasn't looking at him, her head turned away.

"You know I always wanted to be a teacher, Ksath. And I've worked very hard to prove that I can do it. Chijarja saw that, and felt I was ready despite my age." Her voice was low now, anger gone and replaced with a quiet sorrow. "It's an important and honorable position, being a teacher, and you are not the first to say that I wasn't good enough to be entrusted with the training of the clan's little ones."

"I... I'm sorry, Nivele, I didn't know," he said, quietly. Certainly he had seen little of her over the last few weeks, which he regretted now. "They're wrong."

"That's what I thought too, but well... I don't know. Our hatchlings are so few in number, and there's less of them with each generation. Maybe their upbringing is too important to leave to someone like me. It's just to hear you say it, and especially when I was going to--" She cut off, tail giving a small lash of remembered anger before she took a breath and stilled it.

"I wanted you to be the first one to mate me, Ksath. I didn't want you just because you're big and strong, which is all that fool Akarja cares about. I've heard the way she brags about how you were chosen to mate her, and how fertile and wonderful she is, and how lovely and strong the hatchlings would be." She gave an indignant snort, a small and irritated growl sounding from her throat. "I know it's important for the elder to make sure you sire eggs, and Akarja is the most likely to do so, I won't deny that. Our clan needs the new blood you would bring into it, but..." She paused. "But I don't care. We were ssra-adai mates for many years, and friends for longer than that, and I wanted you for my mate. I've known it for years, I just didn't--couldn't--say anything. I knew that you were supposed to mate another, and I was content with that until I felt my first season approaching."

Ksathren's head swam, the scent of fertility that hung in the air clouding his mind and forcing him to concentrate on her words. Even before her first season came upon her, when he looked back the signals were there; the occasional brush of tails, a certain tone in her voice as she teased him... how had he missed it all?

It's true what females say about us, he thought, we males really are hopeless when it comes to understanding them.

"I know," she continued, "it's silly. It's selfish. But..." She trailed off, looking at him for the first time, her amber eyes luminous and sad in the dim light. "It's months until Akarja comes to season, if not years, and I could feel that mine was upon me, so I tried my best to convince Chijarja that you should be mated with me instead of Akarja. Eventually, she agreed."

It took a moment for that to process, and Ksathren's mouth gaped in amazement. "You can talk to her. I'm sure she'll still let you take Akarja as a mate," she said, seeing his expression and seeming to take it as a sign that he was angry or displeased, her head bowing and eyes falling to look at the floor. "I shouldn't have interfered."

In that sad pose, she looked quite the wretched thing, not like the proud and strong dragoness that he had known for almost his entire life. Quietly, slowly, he stepped forward, her scent carrying his feet. Ancestors, how he wanted her! To listen to her pant and moan as he took her, to taste her neck as he held it in his jaws.

His tail twitched behind him as he looked down at her, eyes traveling over her smooth green hide hungrily despite himself. It was difficult to stand here, close enough to feel the warmth of her hide. He could feel a tightening in his male vent, a growing firmness that he was completely powerless to stop.

His instincts demanded that he rut the smaller female, and he realized that he was panting softly. Shoving the urges aside, he dipped his snout beneath her chin gently, lifting her head up. He half-hoped that she wouldn't see the fullness of his erection, the other half of him, the instinctual part wanting to display himself for her.

Her eyes met his, and a shudder ran through her frame. "Ksath, don't," she said, looking away. He noticed that she too was breathing raggedly. "It's too hard to think about anything other than mating with you, and I know you can't help it either. If you don't want me as your mate, it'd be too painful for me to know that you rutted me here and now just because your body told you to, and not because you wanted to. I don't think I could stand being linked until my next season comes to someone who doesn't want me." She spoke in a trembling voice, rocking back and forth slightly, rubbing her hindquarters against the furs beneath her, seemingly unable to help it.

"No, Nivele," he said, pressing his snout firmly against hers, tongue flicking out to taste her lips completely of its own accord and causing them both to shiver. "I was the one who was stupid and selfish, as I never realized how you felt for me, nor did I give any thought about how I might feel about you. For that, I'm sorry," he drew in a ragged breath, trying to ignore the almost painful hardness between his hind legs. "I don't want Akarja. I can't even stand her." He sucked in a deep breath, smelling not only her strong scent, but the warmth of her own quickened breath. "But I want you, I know that. I think maybe I always did in some way, I was just too busy fretting over my own problems to realize it."

"Ksath, I... please tell me that you're not saying that just because your body is telling you that," she said in reply, her amber eyes lidded as she gazed into his. "Just... tell me and I'll believe you." The motion of her hindquarters had stopped, manifesting itself as sharp twitches in her hind legs.

He pressed his forehead tightly against hers, feeling his horns rub against her own. "I promise, I want you with more than just my body alone." He knew as he said it that it was true, and hoped she saw that.

In answer, she nodded her head slightly, pulling back. "I just wish we had addressed it sooner, when we could have a nice and rational talk without all this. I suppose I should have been more forward about how I felt toward you, since you seem to have the intuition of a stone." She grinned very faintly at that, and he saw the dragoness that he knew in the expression. "Now," she said, her smaller size letting her look along his underside and see the pointed shaft that curved proudly from its usual hiding place. "I see you're certainly ready enough... please, don't make me wait any longer." With that, she turned without warning or particular ceremony, her chest held down to brush against the furs beneath her, hindquarters lifted and tail raised.

Ksathren sucked in another breath at the sight of her puffy and moistened slit displayed before him, begging to be filled, the hide around it tinged with the pink of the dragoness' arousal. The pose triggered something deep in his brain, and he was barely aware of moving forward to stand over her, nudging her tail aside automatically and moving until he felt the wet warmth of her against his pointed cocktip, a deep growl issued from within his chest at the contact.

Before he could do anything else, Nivele gave a needy whine at the minimal contact, pushing back against him and spearing herself upon his dragonhood, the ridged length sliding into her with one solid motion, eased by the scented fluid that coated her sex inside and out, a lewd wet sound accompanying the passage of each of the soft ridges that encircled his length.

Her neck arched sharply with the entry, crying out her pleasure to the ceiling and joining his own bassy voice, the slick walls of her passage rippling and clenching down on him as she was taken. The heat of her made his head swim and stars dance before his eyes, leaving him unable to do more than just stand there, his muscles taut as his weight rested upon her back. Without thinking, his teeth found the soft hide at the back of her neck and fastened down roughly, the urge to hold the female beneath him in place overwhelming.

"Please, Ksath," Nivele said, voice mostly a needy growl as she trembled beneath him, her tail coming around to curl around his hind legs, pulling him to her, trying to get him deeper even though he was already fully sheathed inside her. She turned to snap at him, though held in place as she was, her teeth only found air. "Just do it already, ancestors damn you!"

Needing no more encouragement, he gave into the desire to thrust, pulling back until almost all of his cock felt the cool air flowing over it before ramming roughly forward into the wet heat of her vent. The world around him went dark as he repeated the motion, building up a quick rhythm and filling the room with the wet sounds of rutting, the both of them growling and snarling with each motion. Each time he withdrew he could feel the strong egg-laying muscles of her vent clench around him, trying to keep him inside of her, milking him, begging to be filled with his straining shaft once more.

Time began to lose its meaning as he rutted the female that he considered nothing more than a friend until so recently, the sounds of the two dragon's mating echoing loudly in Ksathren's ears. There was a growing pressure in his loins, a building heat at the core of his being that grew with each thrust, threatening to overwhelm him. Finally, he couldn't contain it anymore and it exploded within him, his teeth biting down hard on the female's neck and tasting blood on his tongue as the sharp points sunk into her hide.

The growing growl that had been rising in his chest grew into a roar as his length pulsed and jumped powerfully inside the female, his thick seed coating her insides as he shuddered and twitched through his orgasm. She arched her neck under his teeth, letting out a roar that was unmuffled and even louder than his own, her muscles bearing down upon his spasming cock in great rhythmic clenches so hard that they were almost painful, a rush of her thick nectar painting his belly as she rode out her own climax.

It seemed to go on and on, emptying rope after rope of his essence into the female, both of them twitching and shuddering, tails entwined. Finally the sensations faded, his roar around her neck dying away into a growl and then into breathless panting as he painted the insides of the dragoness with a last few weak pulses of his seed, giving a few rough thrusts of his hips to make sure they were planted just as deep as those that came before.

After their cries had died away, neither of them made a sound but for their fast, heavy panting as they tried to regain their breath. His muscles slackened and he rested heavily upon Nivele's back, the considerably smaller dragoness bearing the weight admirably as she recovered from the mating with her head on the ground, neck drooping.

"Ksath?" He heard her say after a moment of resting. He blinked, eyes still clouded with the intense sensations of the mating. Attempting to reply, he realized that his jaws were still around her neck, buried shallowly in her hide.

"Mmph," he replied, the dragoness shivering a little as the points of his teeth moved. He started to release her as gently as he could, but was stopped by her voice.

"Please, hold me there a little longer," she said, voice thick with the afterglow of the rutting. "It feels right. Just roll over onto your side with me."

He did as he was asked, ending up with his side against the furs and Nivele held against his belly, his length still surrounded by her warmth, his body giving small twitches as the aftershocks of her orgasm caused her sex to give the occasional squeeze of her around his sensitive shaft.

They laid there for some time like that, saying nothing, listening to their breaths echo in the silence of the room. There was a soft howling of wind outside, and it seemed likely that an early storm had developed.

Now that he'd mated Niv during her season, her body's chemistry would adapt to his own, ensuring that she desired no other until her season came once more. For that matter, he'd feel the irresistible tug in a similar way until her scent changed once more or he spent too long apart from it. It was something that he dreaded when he seemed sure to mate someone he didn't want, but now he decided that it was a rather pleasant thing. He felt he could now understand why so many pairs chose to renew their bond year after year.

"That was much better than last time we tried it, wasn't it?" He heard her say, his eyes opening and realizing that he'd begun to drift off. "It's okay, you can let go now," she added with a slight chuckle. He never really noticed it before, but her voice was quite nice; deep and clear, but with an unmistakable touch of femininity to it. There were so many things about her that he'd never noticed before...

Gingerly, he removed his teeth from her hide, the dragoness giving a small hiss at the pain, but not moving aside from that. Now open again, the shallow marks in her hide bled sluggishly and Ksathren licked softly over the punctures, the dragoness giving a small sigh of satisfaction as the warm touch eased the discomfort.

"Of course, we were just hatchlings playing at being adults then, weren't we?" Nivele gave a satisfied sigh. "In any case, I think this was a fitting place for our first mating, don't you think?"

Ksathren thought back to the times they'd spent here. Though they mostly just laid about talking, they did on a few occasions play at mating. It was, after all, one of the great pastimes of hatchlings, trying to do all the things that the grown-ups were doing. Like all other hatchlings, they'd seen dragons mating more than just a few times, and certainly weren't the only hatchlings who had experimented and played with one another in such a way.

"Yes," he said, nuzzling at her neck a little. "Quite fitting. Though I have to say if I knew back then what mating was actually like... well, I think I would've spent more time practicing."

That comment was rewarded by a languid laugh from the dragoness pressed against him. "It was a good enough way to pass the time then, but yes, it's hard to compare the games of hatchlings to something like this."

He let that go unanswered, holding her softly against him with his limbs and giving a few last licks to her wounds which had by then ceased bleeding. After the earlier lust-filled rutting, saying too much seemed like a silly thing to do, their bodies having already said quite a lot.

"There's a storm from the sound of it," Nivele said after a long and comfortable silence. "I wish I wouldn't have to abandon my anartra, but I certainly would rather stay here for now."

"I'm sure they'll get along just fine. They'll just have to find another dragon to accost, that's all."

Nivele chuckled at that, nodding. "So you'll stay here with me?"

"Of course." He was suddenly reminded of his plans to leave tomorrow, having forgotten all about them under the influence of Nivele's scent. But there was no sense in worrying about it now, and he pushed it out of his mind for the time being.

"Good. I'm tired, and it feels nice to have you hold me like this. Almost as good as it feels to hold you, actually." She gave him a pleasant squeeze where he still remained joined to her, eliciting a small growl from him. She laughed.

He certainly was tired, his muscles aching pleasantly from both his flight and the subsequent exercise of mating. He draped a wing over her and laid his head down beside her graceful muzzle, the two of them cheek to cheek as both dragons quickly succumbed to the embrace of sleep, their shared warmth keeping them comfortable throughout the night as the storm howled outside.

---

Ksathren was dreaming a familiar dream.

He stood on the edge of a platform that jutted straight out from a sheer rockface, giving him a clear view of the canyon floor hundreds of feet below. The canyon was quite different from the one in which his ar-adai made its home; there was a city here. Something like the humans might make, really. Buildings and domes of all shapes and sizes cluttered the canyon, some overhanging the great flowing river that had carved the canyon while others were built straight into the sheer rock of the cliffs.

He'd never seen a city before in his waking moments, but he knew--without knowing how--that this city was unique to the past. As many times as he'd had this dream before, he still couldn't help but marvel at the vista laid out before him. The sun hung low in the sky, casting great shadows over the city below and bathing everything else in sharp golden light, causing him to have to squint to make out details.

One thing was certain though; there was no sign of life down below. It was a city, but an empty one.

"I once dove from the very spot in which you now stand," said a voice beside him, "all to catch a poor crewman that slipped off the edge."

He turned, looking at his father, who laid next to him at the edge of the metal platform. "I barely had time to pull up after catching him, and we both got pretty wet in the process. Easily could've been the end of us both. But thankfully the ancestors guided my wings and I lived to fly again."

The other dragon was a little larger than him, and bore the same deep blue coloring. Aside from himself, he'd never seen anyone in that shade, and especially nobody that was so near his size.

His father--his real father--turned to grin at him. "The crewman in question never saw it in the same light and decided he'd had enough of being up in the air, the poor fellow." The dragon shrugged. "But I suppose I can't fault him for that. It's harder to trust another's wings than your own."

Ksathren returned his father's grin with a slight smile. He knew better than to ask too many questions in this dream, as his father always grew distant and forgetful when he started asking for details. When he pressed the issue, the entire dream would fade away as if it never existed.

Still, his father seemed to have no shortage of anecdotes, and he liked to listen to them, even though they were sometimes confusing to him. What was a crewman anyway?

"Father," Ksathren began. "I'm not sure what I should do." Talking about himself always seemed to keep the dream going. "I was going to leave the ar-adai, but now I... well, things are different now."

"Well of course they are. Adding females into the picture always changes everything," his father said, chuckling in a deep bass tone. "Your mother certainly changed me, and not always for the better." He sighed wistfully at that, looking off into the distance. "Oh she was a fiery one when she got it into her mind to be, and always sharp-tongued... your Nivele reminds me of her."

Ksathren had never seen his mother in his dream, but he had a vague sense that she was there in some way regardless of that. He wanted to ask about her, but held his tongue. His father never talked of her when asked, only when the conversation reminded him of her.

His father continued. "Ksathren, it's never an easy thing to leave one's mate, even when you don't have a choice. But you do have a choice, which just makes it all the more difficult, doesn't it? I suppose you could stay with her and the ar-adai, but then that would make it all the harder to leave later. On the other side, you could go now, but you'd be leaving her right after she chose you for her first mate. A hard choice." His father gave him a sympathetic smile. "Either way, I don't envy your situation."

Ksathren sighed, shaking his head. On the occasions he spoke with his father like this, he only got advice--his father never made his decisions for him, even though sometimes Ksathren wished that he would.

"Maybe Nivele would come with me."

"And abandon her young charges and throw away the position which she's worked so hard to get?" His father snorted. "I doubt it. No, if you leave, you leave alone. It probably would have been best if you never mated her at all, to be honest. But," his father grinned at him. "I know what it's like when you can smell a female that's chosen you to be her mate. It's hard to resist one's instincts, after all."

Despite it all, Ksathren smiled to himself. He was dimly aware of his belly still pressed against Nivele's warm hide back in the real world. Though it had complicated things, he was still glad to have her as his mate.

"If you're going to leave, do it before hatchlings get involved. She'd really never forgive you if you left then, never mind how callous you'd have to be to leave her to care for them alone." His father smiled, his expression a little on the wistful side. "And believe me, there's always hatchlings, the two of you will make sure of that."

"There's a good chance that neither of us will have any eggs that hatch. Many pairs never produce a single hatchling no matter how long they're mated."

His father raised an eyeridge at him. "Do you have so little faith in our line?" his father asked, giving Ksathren a chiding slap to the shoulder with a forepaw. "No, the two of you will make fine eggs, I'm sure of it. After all, you've got good blood running through your veins, you know. As for her, well, I'm sure she's up to the task though I don't recognize her lineage at all..."

Ksathren rubbed his shoulder, the smack his father dealt him hurting more than it had any right to. "Okay father, I believe you."

His father went on as if he didn't hear Ksathren. "The lines have become thin and diluted over the years, haven't they?" He shook his head sadly. "So much time lies between the two of us."

"How much time could have passed, father? It wasn't that long ago that I hatched, so my egg couldn't have been laid all that long ago." Ksathren looked down at the city below, struck again by the feeling that he was looking at something that has long since ceased to exist.

"I don't know how it came to pass, but I know it is true. Such a different world you live in..." As his father spoke, the dream took on a wispy quality, as if the world was turning to smoke.

"Father, wait! I need to know!" Ksathren tried his best to hold onto the dream, but it eluded him, his father's voice fading away to merely a whisper in the back of his mind, melding into the soft murmur of his ancestors.

"Ksath?"

He blinked, the world around him coming slowly into focus. He could hear the wind still whistling outside and could just barely see Nivele peering at him, the dragoness illuminated by a soft yellow glow that filled the basement level of their ancient hideaway. He remembered an ancient device that would emit light when touched, and do so until touched again. Ruins were usually full of such things. She must have activated it while he slept.

"Still talking to yourself in your sleep, I see," she said with a light chuckle. She was lying on her side facing him, and she reached out to give him a quick lick to the snout.

"My father," he said, shaking his head to clear it. "I was talking to him." He shifted, still a little disoriented and not fully awake yet. Nivele nudged in to nestle against him, her belly warm against his.

"The ancestors always spoke to you in a clearer voice than most, Ksath," she said, a bemused smile tugging at her muzzle. "Though to hear you carry on in your sleep like that, I can't say that I'm jealous."

He merely grunted at that, stretching the stiffness from his limbs and holding her against him. "There's something important that my father is trying to tell me, but I don't know what it is... he always talks about how far apart we are, but I can't make sense of it." He sighed. "It's frustrating."

Nivele gave a sympathetic rumble, reaching out to lay her head against his cheek and nuzzle him. "Sometimes what the ancestors tell us isn't meant to be understood, or so some say." She smiled at him, pressing her snout firmly against his. "Don't worry over it."

Ksathren nodded, though he couldn't quite shake the thoughts from his mind, and that made him remember the first part of his dream conversation. He dreaded bringing up the topic, letting the silence linger as he held the smaller dragoness against him.

The mind-addling scent that she had last night had since faded into memory only to be replaced by another scent that was like the normal smell of her with which he was so familiar but... different. It was a warm and comforting smell, making him cling to her all the tighter. With their warm bellies pressed together, he even found himself suddenly thinking about repeating the earlier performance.

"Mmm, thinking of trying again?" she asked, breaking the silence. "It's not even light out."

She must have smelled the faint stirrings of arousal on him, and despite her words, he could detect a sudden hint of her own desire to mate again. Ksathren was a little surprised at how quickly they became tuned so closely into each others scent. He knew that a mated pair were far more sensitive to such things, but to experience it first hand was another thing altogether.

"It, ah, crossed my mind, yes."

"I thought so," she said, rumbling pleasantly to him and running her claws against his chest. "I can smell it on you." He felt her nip playfully at his neck. "I'm a little sore. Pleasantly sore, but all the same, please give me just a little while."

He nodded, resting his head against hers, the two of them cheek-to-cheek. He lie wondering how best to approach the subject of him leaving.

"You remember how I was talking about whether there might be others like me out there somewhere?"

Nivele's expression hardened. Ksathren realized that she already knew where this was going. "Yes," she said, "I remember."

"I want to know... would you come? If I were to leave the ar-adai and search for them?" He remembered his father's words on the matter, but he needed to try anyway.

Nivele gave him a long look, a slight bit of anger flashing in her amber eyes. "Someday, maybe I would," she said after a long moment of silence. "Ksath, tell me you're not still leaving."

He dipped his muzzle, looking away. "I have to do it, Niv. I need to know where I came from. I want to stay with you, but I know the longer I stay, the harder it will be for me to leave."

"So that's it? You rut me and then you go off on your poorly thought out searching the very next day." A growl rose in the dragoness' throat, her claws tightening and pricking into his hide.

"I didn't mean for it to turn out this way, I promise. I... it's hard to even think about leaving now, but I have to do it." He squirmed a little, her claws painful as they dug into his hide

"You don't have to do anything! But what you should do is stay here with your mate!"

With a hiss, Nivele rolled over on top of him, pinning him beneath her despite their difference in size. Even if he were of a mind to, he dared not shake her off with her claws dug into him like that. He felt a thin trickle of blood flow from his hide.

"You're an idiot, Ksathren, and I'm not letting you go." She was angry, but as he looked up at her, he could see that there was more to it than simple anger at being abandoned.

She knew that I would leave, He thought. But she chose me as her mate regardless.

Despite the compromising position, he was keenly aware of her vent pressed against his own male counterpart as she straddled him, the feel of her female opening warm and tantalizingly soft. From the rising scent that filled his nostrils, he wasn't the only one aware of the contact.

"You'll stay, even if I have to keep you held down until we both die of hunger," she said, a small growl that was born from something other than anger sounding in her throat, having started to rock her hips against him, moistening his hide with the richly scented fluids of her arousal. Even if he wanted to, there was no way he could resist his own body's reaction, the scent of his mate and the feel of her grinding down against him overpowering all other thoughts.

It was hardly a moment before his cock was fully hard, trapped between their bellies. With a low growl, Nivele shifted her position until the tip of his dragonhood pressed against her moist vent. Without warning, she slammed her body down on him, impaling herself on him in one violent motion, both of them roaring out with the pleasure of the entry.

Nivele bit him hard on the throat, her teeth piercing his hide and holding on tightly. The pain of it barely registered in his mind, only adding to the all consuming sensation of his mate's slick and incredibly warm sex, her internal muscles clamped down hard around his length.

Driven by a deep need to thrust, he writhed beneath her, but she just clung on tighter with claws and teeth, not letting him shift to a position that would allow him to do so. Slowly, she began rocking her hips back and forth above him, her velvety passage squeezing and milking his length, causing him to writhe and growl even more with the agonizingly slow pace.

There was no doubt that this time she was in full control of their mating. The need to thrust himself hard and fast into his mate consumed him and left him panting and whining beneath her. He would have begged if he could find the words.

Before long though, her motions grew quicker and more heated above him, the dragoness crying out into his neck as a rush of her slick nectar coated his shaft anew. Before long her hindquarters were crashing down upon him, hard enough that he almost had the breath knocked out of him with each impact.

After being tortured by the earlier slow pace, the change in speed sent shudders through his frame, the pleasure building on him quickly and sending him spiraling toward his inevitable release. The female's tail found his and curled around it, squeezing hard enough that it hurt, using it as another point of leverage to slam her hips down one last time, the pointed tip of his cock spearing through the muscular ring of her cervix and bathing it in the incredible heat of her womb.

With a sharp cry that vibrated the teeth embedded in his neck, Nivele shuddered as her climax swept over her, holding him hilted inside her as her strong inner muscles rippled and squeezed around his member, tipping him almost immediately over the edge. He roared out his pleasure as his seed raced up the underside of his engorged shaft, coating the walls of her egg-chamber thickly.

His claws dug into her hide as he held her tight throughout, their entangled tails shivering and slapping against the ground as the last few jets of his semen filled her, the tight seal of her innermost barrier keeping it held inside her.

Exhausted from the rough mating, Nivele slumped down atop him as their climaxes trailed off, both of them panting, claws still sheathed in each others hide. An occasional aftershock ran through her frame, causing him to twitch as her sex tightened around his snugly embedded length.

Ksathren couldn't say how long had passed with them just laying there and enjoying the afterglow of their second mating before Nivele removed her teeth from around his neck, licking lightly at the sluggish flow of blood that came from the more-or-less superficial wound.

"Maybe this will help you remember me when you're gone," she said quietly, her voice no longer holding any anger, just a note of resigned sadness that left him feeling all the more guilty for even thinking of leaving her.

"Proof that somewhere there's a dragoness that desires and loves you. I hope you'll wear it as proudly as I will wear the mark you gave me." Her claw traced lightly across the fresh toothmarks as her other claw followed the the one left on her neck from their first mating. He nodded.

She looked down at him, a small, sad smile on her muzzle. "I always knew that you would leave, Ksath. I just wasn't expecting to take it so hard. After mating with you, I let my body's demands to be with you get the best of me. I guess maybe some part of me was hoping that maybe you wouldn't go after we'd mated, even though I know how important your search is to you."

"Nivele, I don't want to go, you know that," Ksathren said, "I can barely stand thinking about it." Indeed, when he truly thought about what it would be like to be separated, he could feel a deep ache in his whole body. His instincts demanded that he stay with his mate, no matter what his conscious mind had decided. "But the longer we stay together as mates the harder it will be to part from each other, and I need to find other dragons, wherever they may be."

This was a subject they'd talked about at length in the past, and she nodded. If there were other dragons out there that could still produce hatchlings reliably, then it might save this clan from a lingering and slow death.

"Are you sure you won't come with me, just like we talked about doing when we were hatchlings?"

She nodded, smiling with a bit of humor this time. "Now that I'm the one teaching hatchlings, I've realized just how silly the plans they make really are." She dipped her head down to press her forehead tightly against his, accompanying the affectionate gesture with a squeeze of her tail around his. "I wish I could come, but I can't abandon my duty to the clan."

He nodded, and held her tight against his chest. Her weight atop him was comforting as the two dragons shared one another's warmth through the early hours of the morning.

---

The storm had blown itself out as the two slept, and when they emerged from the ancient ruin, a fresh blanket of virgin snow lay upon the ground, crunching lightly beneath their paws.

Ksathren could still smell her scent upon himself, and he considered whether he should bathe before setting out, but decided against it. Perhaps having her smell lingering for a while in his nose would ease the parting.

"Lets not draw this out," Nivele said, curling her tail around his. "I don't think I can take a long farewell."

He nodded, leaning against her side and pressing his forehead against hers tightly. "Ancestors guide your claws and lead you to glory."

He could feel a small tremor run through her frame, but her voice was strong and clear. "Ancestors guide your wings and lead you to home, my mate."

She pulled away, her tail lingering upon his. "And if they don't, I have some words for them," she added with a small smile, which he couldn't help but return.

Pushing aside the ache in his chest, he launched himself off the side of the cliff, snapping his wings open after letting gravity get him up to speed. He dipped a wing and veered eastward; the direction of the mainland.

It would be easier if he didn't look back.

But he did anyway.

---

Nivele waited as Ksathren slowly faded from view, the strange feeling of emptiness in her belly growing with each of his wing beats.

She had steeled herself for this moment, but her gut simply refused to agree with her head, and when she lost sight of him the ache in her stomach grew until she let it all out in one long keening cry, her tail lashing out in frustration and sending a large rock careening down the cliff side.

The sound hung in the air long after she had run out of breath. She felt better, though the clawing feeling remained.

Her echoing cry was joined by a distant rumble; the sound deep and bassy. Thousands of feet above, a flock of Grand Floaters hung in the sky, their gigantic balloon-like bodies visibly vibrating with their call.

She hadn't ever heard one make a noise of any kind since she was a hatchling. It was rare for them to do so.

Were they answering her cry?

Her ancestors whispered softly to her. It was a good omen.