Wings of Fire; The Sinking Continent

Weavewing - 2

Satin couldn't feel any wind.

It was a strange sensation, like a small part of her had been cut off her body and taken away somewhere.

She stretched her pink wings out, fanning them slightly. The thin membrane was usually adept at picking up on even the tiniest licks of a breeze, but nothing seemed to be able to penetrate so far into the mangrove forest. Shivering, she frowned and folded her wings again. Can't imagine living somewhere with no wind, she thought.

Honestly, she was surprised. One would have expected there to be at least a little wind closer to the canopy, but there was none. I'll have to let Queen Velvet know. She pondered that idea for a brief moment and ended up disregarding it. She'll probably be able to feel the wind better than I can. Satin glanced to her side.

The green Rootwing who had fought her hadn't left; even after a group of his tribemates came and brought Satin to where she was now: a grandiose yet dimly lit hollow in what must have been the biggest tree she had seen in her life. He had followed along, speaking to a dark brown dragon in hushed tones as they flew. Even now, with the swirling, smooth wood grain underneath her talons and a Rootwing guard on either side of her, he was only a few wing lengths away.

Go away, she growled silently. It's like he took me attacking the dragonet personally.

The entrance of two new dragons drew her attention away from him. An important-looking dragon with swampy green-brown scales regarded Satin with kind, stunningly orange eyes. At her side, a small sage green and chestnut brown dragon ignored her completely. A gruesome scar ran across his face, and he sat down beside the dark brown one. Satin couldn't help but stare; he couldn't have been much older than her. Was he the important dragon's son? They didn't look alike. She was itching to ask someone.

The important dragon cleared her throat, taking a seat beside the throne at the back wall of the chamber. All eyes turned to her. "Mink, Canopy, thank you for taking time out of your days to meet us here to discuss our.." she paused, her gaze flitting over Satin, "..special guest."

"Of course, Sedge," the dark brown dragon, Mink, bowed his head. "I'm just glad she was caught before anything bad happened."

The Rootwing she had fought grumbled something, but Mink growled at him to shut up, and he promptly obeyed.

"Where's Queen Anaconda?" Canopy asked, sweeping his tail over the floor in a smooth arc.

"She'll be here soon," Sedge promised. "She had something else to handle before coming here."

"And none of the other Heads are joining us?" he tipped his head.

Sedge shook her head. "An intruder only directly concerns the Heads of War and Patrols."

Satin perked up. War and Patrols? It was common knowledge in the Wind Kingdom that Rootings divided the responsibilities of overseeing the tribe amongst different Heads, but she had never met any of them. Mink had to have been the Head of Patrols; he was the one the green dragon went after. Speaking of which, she hadn't gotten his name. She couldn't just keep calling him 'the green dragon'. Well, she could, but it was inconvenient, and it would be easier to just refer to him as something else. Satin squinted in his direction. His muted scales were in stark contrast with the dark green line of scutes along his spine and the spots on his sides and neck. I'll call him Bog. That's a Rootwing-y name, right? Or maybe Snail. She snickered.

"What's so funny?" Canopy inquired, narrowing his eyes.

"His serious face," Satin hummed, unable to wipe the grin off her face as she pointed back at 'Snail'.