Days after the little one's encounter with Stonewing in the clearing, Goldenheart has been somewhat unsure of how to deal with the handsome SandWing. But major gestures were not her way—she was friendly and polite, offering nothing more than the courtesy one would to a classmate. She treated him like part of the pack, only allowing herself to indulge in the briefest of dreams where her and Stonewing's paths might entwine more intimately.

Yet, there remained the thorn in the bud—a jealousy she couldn't quite conquer: Hazel. Goldenheart bore no malice toward her, but the sight of Stonewing and Hazel chirping together outside of school twisted in her gut like a hot knife. Out of respect and a strong sense of nobility, she left them undisturbed. Goldenheart understood the sanctity of relationships, and she'd rather claw her own scales off than meddle in the affairs of others.

On this particular day, with her heart slightly heavy, she found solace outside the school grounds, her attention captured by a vivacious butterfly. With the gentlest touch she could muster, Goldenheart ran a claw slowly down the insect's back, feeling its tiny vibrations like whispers of comfort. She could almost hear its murmurs of gratitude for sparing its life amidst the strange dead flowers of the school garden.

"What are you doing here?" A voice broke her reverie.

Goldenheart's gaze snapped up, and there they were: Stonewing and Hazel, chirping contentedly to each other, tails entwined. A storm brewed within Goldenheart, but she kept her voice cool and her stance dignified.

"I have an exam coming up, so I'm studying," she responded, her words short, her eyes drifting back to the Somerfoglens butterfly, which flapped its beautiful purple wings and chirped softly—the purity of nature unwavering amidst the complexities of draconian emotions.

Hazel snorted, her voice tinged with mockery. "Talking to a butterfly, are we?"

The spark in Goldenheart's eyes kindled into a smoldering glare at the jibe. "Better to converse with a creature that appreciates my company," she retorted sharply.

Ebba, another dragon who had lingered nearby, chuckled at the exchange. "Just wait until I tell Quartz; she won't let you live it down!" The levity of her tone did nothing to lift the mood.

Stonewing, seemingly unsettled by the hostility, interjected with a note of exasperation. "And what the hell did you do that for?" His glare matched Goldenheart's in intensity.

The air around them felt charged, a prelude to a storm yet to break. Hazel, unfazed, quipped back with venomous sweetness. "Oh, well, she's a fool; she's been banned, as you know. You never liked her in high school, Stonewing. Why bother with her now at the academy?"

Goldenheart's claws clenched, her scales bristling at Hazel's words. A lesson was looming on the horizon, but it was not the exam she had referenced. It was a lesson in self-restraint and the unwritten laws of dragonkind. She chose silence over conflict, her eyes hard as ancient stone. The butterfly, unperturbed by the drama that unfolded, fluttered upwards, a fleck of beauty against a canvas of impending tempests.

Stonewing's tail flicked with a distinct mix of irritation and defiance as he addressed Hazel, revealing a sliver of intent to right the wrongs of a past that was evidently riddled with regret. His scales shimmered with a frustration that belied more than an annoyance at the current conversation, hinting at a dissatisfaction that had burrowed deep into his heart over time.

"You're jealous, seriously? I've been yours for three years, Stonewing!" Hazel's voice sliced through the tension like a talon through silk. Her wings unfurled, her form a picture of scornful indignation. And with her words—each syllable seething with accusation and betrayal—she shattered the fragile peace that had briefly blanketed them. "Fine, I'll go to Boulder, but only because he understands this boyfriend thing better than you." She cast a disparaging look at the darkening sky as if it were an omen of things yet unresolved, a witness to the melodrama of their lives.

Goldenheart observed the exchange with a weary sigh. Did these spats occur with rhythmic regularity, or was she the unwitting trigger for these lovers' quarrels? She felt like an unwanted footnote in a tale that had long begun without her.

In the wake of Hazel's stormy departure, Stonewing slumped next to Goldenheart, a dragon brought low. The smoke he exhaled seemed to carry away pieces of an old pride, leaving vulnerability in its wake. "I hope you're glad I pushed her away," he murmured, a chilly edge to his tone.

Goldenheart turned her gaze upon the brooding figure beside her. "Stonewing," she began, her voice a gentle chiding, "you don't push someone away unless you're ready to let them go. And pushing someone to another... that's not the way hearts mend or how mistakes are corrected."

She stood up, her golden scales catching the faint light, making her seem as though she bore the very luminescence of the stars—not just a "little girl dragon," but a creature of depth and substance. "But envy and love's complexities aside, these exchanges, these storms... they are not yours to brew nor mine to bask in. You must decide what you want not just for today, but for all the days to come."

Goldenheart's eyes were pools of earnest clarity as she spoke, and with a final, tender glance at the butterfly that was now a mere ghost in the twilight, she spread her own wings. It was not a challenge to Hazel but a declaration of her own worth. It was Goldenheart's flight—not from conflict, but toward a horizon where she could be more than just a spectator to others' tumultuous skies.

"Perhaps," she concluded with resolve, her tail sweeping the earth as she prepared to take to the air, "when you find what you're truly seeking, you will not need to push anyone—away or towards. Until then, I'll be amongst the stars, not the smoke."

And with that, she leapt upwards, leaving Stonewing to ponder the weight of choices made and the paths yet unforged.

꒰ 🍒 ꒱

The sun had claimed its throne in the sky, casting a golden swathe across the lands, illuminating the ancient halls of learning as it began its journey into the day. The early light touched the faces of two dragons, rippling and glowing with the promise of dawn. Shimmer nudged Goldenheart out of her contemplation, her muzzle prodding gently in a silent plea to return to the sanctity of their secret hideaway.

Goldenheart murmured an assent that vibrated like a tender melody through the morning air, and together, they dove into the waters that had witnessed countless of their clandestine departures. Shimmer, ever the loyal companion, followed at a respectful distance, creating an intricate dance of ripples and wakes that marked their passage.

Like shadows adrift in the sun's embrace, Goldenheart and Shimmer skirted the school grounds, drawing an invisible line between the world of rigorous academia and the unfettered space of the sea where climates of the mind yielded to the tides of the heart. Their refuge, unknown to parents and hidden from the prying eyes of peers, was their fortress of solitude—a bastion of their bond.

Upon reaching the shore, the grains of the beach whispering welcome beneath their scales, they were greeted by the radiant smile of Willow, the young RainWing. Her ruff erupted in a medley of hues that sang of happiness and relief when her eyes found the familiar forms of her friends.

"You came. I thought you might follow Stonewing and Hazel after their flight north," Willow admitted, her voice suffused with a warmth that beckoned them both.

Shimmer laughed, a sound mingling with the caws of the seabirds. "No soaring after specters today. We've had our share of storm-clouded dramas," she said, her eyes glancing at Goldenheart with an unspoken understanding that not all flights were taken with wings.

The three of them stood for a moment, the salty breeze intertwining their auras, an embrace only the sea could mirror. There was an unspoken agreement between them, a pact of reliance and resilience that was the true architecture of their hideout.

Nestled between the cliff face and the ocean's caress, hidden by an overgrowth of verdant foliage and obscured by the mist, was their sanctuary. Crafted by talons, forged by friendship, it was an enclave of driftwood artistry and shells polished by time. They marvelled at it anew each time they returned, for it was not just a building; it was a testament to their unity.

Their hideaway was a patchwork of sunbeam and shadow, where laughter echoed off the walls, where secrets lay safely cocooned in the rafters. Here, they could shake off the dust of expectations and bask in the treasure of their own company; here was where truth, unfettered by the chains of societal norms, roamed free and unjudged.

As the day unfolded, each dragon carried with them the shared knowledge that this place, their hidden cove, was the cradle of unscripted beginnings, a canvas awaiting the colors of their imagination and the breath of their deepest desires. It was a refuge from the world—a world that was often too large and too loud for hearts that sought the whisper of truth over the thunder of appearances.