It was burning.  She was trapped in a cell, while the world burnt down around her.  Anaconda crept into the back of of her cell, as the flames spread inevitably faster toward her. Through the flames, could make out the burning, dying faces of two dragons she didn't know, and dragons she did. Her mother, father, and siblings were having the life burnt out of them as they screamed. She tried to roar but found that she couldn't move any of her muscles. And through the melee, she saw a dragon's eyes roll backward, and collapse on the ground, dead: Hurricane. The smell of fire wouldn't leave her nose, infiltrating deeper, capturing all her senses....

And she jolted awake.                                                  

Anaconda sat up, and was relieved to find it was a just a dream.  Or was it? In the mind reading/prophecy school in the NightWing village, they had learned how to tell the difference between dreams and actual visions. Anaconda thought about it for a moment. This 'dream' had been unusually crystal-clear, which usually meant it was a vision.  She thoughtfully tilted her head in concern. Could that have actually been a vision? Was it possible that it could happen in the future, perhaps even soon? She furrowed her brows and took a deep breath. A pungent, smoky odor filled her lungs. 

Wait, she thought, that can't be....Anaconda whirled around and saw her clawmate standing with a pleased expression over a pile of burning scrolls that looked as if they had been torn into shreds first. Anaconda rolled her eyes. Great. "Terra?" she questioned in a cautious tone.  The MudWing's head snapped up and she glared at her.  Anaconda tried again, "May I politely ask what  in Pyrrhia you are doing?" Terra gave her an isn't-it-obvious? look, and grunted, "I'm burning these scrolls," as if no dragon on Pyrrhia would ever have guessed that.  Anaconda raised an eyebrow and said, "Yes, I figured as much. Perhaps a more accurate question would have been to ask why you are burning the scrolls. My apologies." Terra narrowed her eyes at her threateningly, but Anaconda could tell it was just because she was deciding what to say in response to her, without bruising her ego. Well, Anaconda thought, if that's the case, there's not much maintaining her ego as there is rebuilding it.  Terra finally huffed and apparently decided to tell her why she was burning the scrolls, in what Anaconda perceived to be the most 'dignified' and 'un-ego-hurting' way. Or at least Terra thought it was. She nipped her wings back, which Anaconda thought she was doing to try to seem cool and collected, which were two words that might describe any other dragon in the world except Terra. 

"Well," she said with a haughty sniff, "It's because these scrolls talk about rubbish. Rubbish concerning COMPLETE nonsense about apparent WONDERFUL things other tribes can do. Pfft. Everyone know RainWings are lazy, SandWings are thieves, IceWings are snobs, SkyWings are delusional, SeaWings are freakish, and NightWings are liars!" It was obvious that Terra had tried to keep her cool, if she had any, throughout the entire explanation, but without much success. Anaconda rolled her eyes at all the trash she was spewing about, and questioned her. "Why did you even come to this school, if you knew there would be other tribes here?" Terra growled deep in her throat and responded, "My QUEEN forced me to come, since my moony-eyed other tribes-loving siblings had come. Now don't you have a ROYAL, SPOILED life to get back to? Leave me alone!" And with that, Terra stomped out of the cave like a fussy one year-old dragonet.  Anaconda raised her eyebrows. Sheesh. Even though she wasn't particularly hungry, Anaconda decided to go to the prey center, since her siblings and Starflight and Clay's dragonets would probably be there. She stamped out the last of the dying embers on the ashes of the scrolls, sweeped the ashes up, and threw them out the narrow window next to her sleeping spot. Finally, when she finished cleaning up Terra's mess, Anaconda turned out of her sleeping cave and headed toward the prey center. 

The hall leading from her cave to the prey center was wide and airy, and there were many plants set against the wall or vines growing up the sides of the rock walls, which was a bit weird, but Anaconda figured the main roots had been stuck in water or soil. She traced her talons along the trail of textured, bright green vines, and was reminded of her visions. Before her thoughts could steamroll any further though, her mind was interrupted by a loud clamor coming from the direction of the prey center, something that broke through the raindrops in her head. Anaconda turned away from the vines and started walking toward the prey center. The voices from other dragon's heads started clamoring in hers: What was that? Oh my gosh, on the first day?! WHO THE HECK DID THAT???  Anaconda sped up her pace as more and more worried thoughts filled her head. At last she burst into the prey center, the other dragons' noise even more prominent now. The huge airy cave was flooded with light from the outside, and it took a moment for Anaconda's eyes to adjust. All the dragons in the prey center were crowded around something, so she stepped around under and over dragon wings and tails, and bumped into a purple  dragon— Firefly.  She whirled around to face Anaconda. "Anaconda! You–you won't believe! It's–it's...." she trailed off. Even before she could register from Firefly's mind, Anaconda turned and saw a big dragon lying on the floor, his deep brown scales reflecting off the sunlight, his muscular features looking uncharacteristically vulnerable.  Sprawled out on the floor, with his mahogany eyes closed, was Clay.