Today seemed ordinary.
Silvershadow was, as usual, in his parent's garden, checking up on everything. It was peaceful, and he enjoyed it. Despite every plant he looked at in the garden giving him faint flashes of what could happen to it—an animal could snatch it, someone could step on it while it was half-ready, maybe the rain of their home would cause the plants to drown—he didn't seem bothered. The rainforest was peaceful and—wait. What was that?
Silvershadow turned, ready to clobber someone with his tail. Faint rustling came from some tall bushes, which made him alert. He walked over to investigate the sound, curiousity taking over. But before he could look over, a dragon barreled into him, knocking him over.
"Three moons! Shadow, you shoulda seen your face!" a dragon exclaimed, laughing.
Silvershadow opened his eyes, rolling them once he saw the pale, dark greyish-yellow shape of Sandstorm, laughing her head off. He got up, shaking off loose mud and damp leaves. "Sandstorm, that joke got old the first time you did it."
    "I know," Sandstorm said cheekily. "But you know, I do descend from the type of dragon who'd do such a thing. She taught me that, actually." She had stopped laughing, so now only a sly grin was on her snout.
    Of course she did, Silvershadow thought. She's always teaching you these kinds of things. Instead of saying his thoughts, he shook his head with a slightly amused sigh, walking back to the garden.
"Oh! By the way, Mother gave me permission to come see you this time. You know how she is. Always busy." Sandstorm groaned, but then perked up again. "So instead of sneaking out again, I was allowed to come. Isn't that amazing?"
Silvershadow nodded, half-listening. He loved talking to Sandstorm, but sometimes it got a bit too much. This one time, she started to ramble about an adventure her mother told her about from back when she was a dragonet with her friends. That was for the second time that week. That was like his mother's best friends' friend always ranting about how he was Queen Glacier's nephew back when he was in school. It wasn't like Silvershadow or his mother were there, but Moon talked about it occasionally when she visited.
    "Anyyyway," he said, nudging Sandstorm. "I didn't ask. How are you?"
    "Great!" Sandstorm replied. "Uh, I don't suppose you have another prophecy? The kind you know I hate? The kind you know Cloud would burn if he got the chance, and if he had firescales?" She wasn't being subtle that she and their hybrid friend, Cloud, hated prophecies. They'd never had anything to do with one, but were close to those who had.
    "Not right now. I'm sure I'll get one eventually," Silvershadow said. "Well, actually, I have one. But I don't really know if it counts?" He sounded unsure, which he was. "I only got a jumble of words that I somehow knew meant mysterious dragons were in trouble. Not those Pantala dragons, but dragons nobody's heard of, ever."
The look on Sandstorm's face was indescribable but said it all: I hate this, why me?, and please do this on your own I never want to know what a prophecy is ever again were all expressed at the same time. After a few seconds, her expression eased. "Fine. I'll do it. Mother's going to kill me, though."
The thought of Sandstorm's mother killing her made Silvershadow's scales feel like crawling then dropping onto the ground, followed by the star patterns on his wings somehow falling off too. "Would she really do that? She's so kind, and the only kind of discipline she'd give you wouldn't be harsh. Also, who even is your mother? You said she was an Outclaw or something," he said. He knew it wasn't a topic that fit the moment, but he was curious.
    "That doesn't matter," Sandstorm retorted. "Besides, Qibli and Moon's dragonet could be considered an Outclaw, since Qibli was one and Grandmother was too. Technically, they both raise Sunray. Sure, Sunray's younger than me by a year and you by three, but that's just an example."
    Just because Sandstorm was right didn't mean Silvershadow let of the topic in his mind. "Fine," he sighed. "You win. Anyway, do you want to hear this 'prophecy', or should I keep that for you and Cloud?""
    "If you'll stop mentioning it, yes," Sandstorm replied.
    Silvershadow's face lit up. He always loved prophecies, reciting them, and anything like them. "Great!" he chirped. "Now, it was basically about this continent not even Pantalan's know about. I guess this massive storm or army of dragons or something or even a plague started by one ill dragon kills them off unless someone saves them. I saw short visions as well, and the only dragons I recognized were me, you, Cloud, and I kind of recognized this Pantalan dragon. They looked like a hybrid, so I'm assuming that's what they were."
    Sandstorm looked like she was thinking. She nodded after a few minutes. "I'll do it. Sounds interesting," she said. "Now what's this continent called?"
    Silvershadow subconsciously dug in his claws to the grassy ground of the rainforest. Once he stopped thinking on what the continent was called, he pulled his talons out, shaking off pieces of roots from nearby flowers, blades of grass and clumps of damp mud.
    "Well?" Sandstorm urged.
    "It's an island, a massive one unlike Pyrrhia or Pantala, split into pieces easily accessible by bridges that connect them," Silvershadow said. "They seemed to call it the Isles of Plutella."