SoulMate

2 | Midnight Escapade

"Move off."

"You move."

"Make me." Nightstar snorted, throwing a well aimed blow at Striker's spiky tail. Striker twitched his wings cheekily in his ears, before rolling off the sleep pile with an almighty oof.

Nightstar slithered out himself, watching their Clawmate Tidal slump down into the empty space, and then straightened himself up. He was a going to be a really great student, after all. He had to have dignity.

Striker, meanwhile, was shaking the skies out of his scales over in the corner. Nasty talon scuffs all over the floor. It hadn't even been a night, and their room seemed a dump already. Even the leaf curtains were partially torn in sections, owed to a particularly high stakes game of tag earlier. 

Actually, I ... feel a little guilty about that. Maybe I should offer to help Starflight repair them.

His attention was quickly brought back to Striker as his tail knocked over a stack of rocks in the corner as it swung.

"What do you think you're doing!" Nighstar hissed, silencing his friend with a flick of his tail.

"Stretching."

"All over our cave."

"... Yes. Is there a problem with that?"

Nightstar shook his head exasperatedly. "Well, come on then! There will be no midnight exploration for us if you don't get a move on!" He cast a wary glance back at the sleep pile: something Striker had practically forced them to do as a 'bonding' activity. Unfortunately, Tidal had been all for it. "Tidal might wake up with all this noise."

"He won't. You're being paranoid." Striker assured.

"I'm being sensible."

"What does sensible mean to you, Night? Does sneaking out in the middle of the night scream sensible, really?"

Nightstar shuffled on his talons, and resorted to wafting Striker out of the cave with his tail. "Go on, shoo, move!"

Striker gave a barking laugh and rolled over the boundary, dust from the floor sticking to the bright purple scales on his back. Some of the other dragons they'd met said that Striker looked like a little indigo flower. Nightstar often had to correct them by saying he looked like a walking, talking bunch of grapes.

"Okay, where now?" He whisper-hissed to Striker, who stood lazily behind him. The purple SilkWing slunk past him with a wink and took the lead, stepping silently down the corridors.

Nightstar followed, although his frills had shifted to a pale green.

"So? Where to?" Striker asked, the glint in his purple eyes sparking dangerously. "The teachers' caves? The Prey Centre? Ooooh, the cliffs?"

"The cliffs? Strike, that's a little bit dangerous for two dragonets... And you've only just got your wings."

"The cliffs it is, then!" He declared, brandishing an imaginary flag pole.

"We are not an empire!" He hissed, but his snout contorted in laughter. Shaking the sleep from his eyes, he bounced after his friend like some sort of scaly ferret, until the reached the cave mouth that opened to the outside.

The whole Academy seemed transformed at night. The walls and floors seemed darkened and silent, so silent, Nightstar thought he could hear a scale drop... Or talon steps.

His heart momentarily sped up, but soon he realised this was just Striker. What would Mum think if she saw us now?

Actually, Dad would think it is pretty cool. Alright, Cloverpool can be the academic one, then. Let's go.