Frostfire

[Miranda Frost]

"GROWWWLLNN"

Just outside Orange's head quarters a loud roar rang out. A black dragon that had been resting there for some time after being wounded in battle with a rival bloodline. Mayor Blue, the former UNSC captain of the Paris - class frigate, the Remembrance had found himself here in the world of fire and brimstone, helping out Orange with his schemes. Blue had come across the wounded dragon on the way back from some errands. The dragon, delirious from blood loss, attempted to strike out at the once captain now mayor with no avail. It couldn't muster the strength to pierce his skin, and he knew it. Blue did what he could with the Medigel he had brought along with him, but it was only enough to buy time. The dragon had gotten beaten badly. It suffered from deep lacerations along its body. Its wings were broken and torn.

Blue wasn't heartless enough to leave it to die and could not bring it upon himself to finish it off with his side arm, assuming his bullets could pierce its armor like scales. He rushed back to headquarters and returned with a truck and a small crew of men to transport the hulking lizard back. Once there he was able to give it better medical attention.

It has been about a month since then, and the dragon had grown to enjoy Blue's company as much as Blue enjoyed his.. or rather "Her". Blue had learned to communicate with the dragon with rough draconian tongue. She expressed that she was in fact female, but lets face it, Blue couldn't even tell a Sangielli apart even if they stripped armor in front of him... not that he has ever thought about that.. oh no. Never has he been that curious. Point is.. Blue was clueless. She also allowed them to exchange names, and not even Orange, his comrade for a good while, has done that.

Her name was just too long, so for the men that work for Blue and his comrades, she came to be known as "Skiaran". This seemed too.. alien.. for Blue, who insisted to this day on calling her "Bessie". Although she doesn't quite enjoy being named such a.. human stereotypical name for certain things, she allowed him to, but only him. Others risk being lunch or being turned into human torches.

Back to the topic at hand, this is the second time since her injuries that she had taken the chance to spread her wings and enjoy the sulfuric air across her scales and soar the red skies. This particular time they would be going on a mission, to fetch a new member to their fledgling organization. He didn't really feel safe having "Bessie" take flight, but she insisted on going with him. He really didn't want to argue with her. Geez, why did these relationships have to be so.. complicated?

During her recuperation, Blue had fashioned a leather saddle, dragon leather... go figure, and slung it over and fastening it to her back. She didn't quite like the idea of him riding upon her, but she didn't contest much besides an occasional groan and the slinging of her tail.

But in all seriousness, do NOT tell her the saddle was crafted from dragon leather, her dead comrades specifically. She would be incredibly pissed and not only kill Blue, but also me... her crea- errr I mean.... there is no way a dragon like that could breath the fourth wall like that... right?

They were supposed to meet November there, Orange's pet project. The guy sent an uneasiness through Blue he never felt anywhere else besides in the faster than light space travel known as "Slipspace" travel back home. It was something about the bending of light around his ship that just frightened him. Hardly ever was he on the bridge during slipspace travel, but that is beside the point. The man seemed cold and empty. November's Aura even set off "Bessie". She just couldn't stand him.

The two partners in flight took off, soaring towards their objective.