A day or two had slipped by like a whisper in the wind since Icemoon had discovered Orchid, the delicate RainWing, curled up in the dappled shadows of the rainforest. The village hummed with life around her, the air thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant chatter of dragons. Icemoon sat perched on a broad, moss-covered branch, her pale, icy scales shimmering faintly in the filtered sunlight. Her frost-colored wings were folded neatly at her sides, and her sharp, glacier-blue eyes scanned the canopy with a quiet intensity. She was an outsider here, a dragon of ice and snow in a world of vibrant greens and golds, yet there was a strange sense of belonging that had begun to settle in her chest.

The rustle of wings drew her attention, and she turned her head to see Queen Glory gliding gracefully through the trees, her emerald scales catching the light like polished jewels. Beside her was Starflight, the NightWing scholar, his dark, star-flecked wings twitching nervously as he landed on a nearby branch. His black eyes widened slightly as they fell on Icemoon, and he leaned toward Glory, his voice a low, urgent hiss.

"I thought you told me it'd only be us."

Glory's lips curled into a sly, knowing smile, her expression as cool and unreadable as the surface of a still pond. She tilted her head, her frill flicking faintly with amusement as she replied, her voice smooth and teasing, "Well, it seems you two acknowledged your feelings for each other."

Icemoon's ears twitched, and she felt a faint heat rise beneath her scales, though her expression remained as composed as ever. Starflight, on the other hand, looked as though he'd been struck by a bolt of lightning. His wings flared slightly, and he stammered, "W-what? That's not—I mean, we haven't—"

Glory cut him off with a soft laugh, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, don't be so dramatic, Starflight. It's written all over your face every time you talk about her. And you," she added, turning her gaze to Icemoon, "you've been spending an awful lot of time in the rainforest lately. Not exactly your usual habitat, is it?"

Icemoon met Glory's gaze steadily, her icy demeanor unshaken, though there was a flicker of something softer in her eyes. "The rainforest has its charms," she said simply, her voice like the whisper of winter wind. "And Orchid... she's... different."

Starflight blinked, his scales darkening with a faint blush as he glanced between the two of them. "I—I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, though the way his talons fidgeted on the branch betrayed him.

Glory rolled her eyes, her tail flicking lazily. "You're both terrible at this. Just admit it already. It's not like it's a secret to anyone with eyes."

Icemoon's gaze drifted to Starflight, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. The rainforest faded into a blur of green and gold, and the only sound was the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. There was something about the way he looked at her—uncertain, yet earnest—that made her chest tighten in a way she couldn't quite explain. She had always been a dragon of logic and precision, but this... this was something else entirely.

Starflight cleared his throat awkwardly, breaking the silence. "Well, um, I suppose... if you're here, we might as well... talk. About... things."

Icemoon inclined her head slightly, her expression softening just a fraction. "I suppose we might."

Glory smirked, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before her. "Good. Now that that's settled, I'll leave you two to it. Try not to overthink everything, Starflight. It's not a scroll—you don't have to analyze it to death."

With that, she spread her wings and leapt into the air, leaving Icemoon and Starflight alone on the branch. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, but not entirely uncomfortable. Finally, Starflight sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "She's impossible, isn't she?"

Icemoon's lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "She is. But... she's not wrong."

Starflight's eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked as though he might fall off the branch. "You mean...?"

Icemoon turned her gaze to the canopy above, where shafts of sunlight pierced through the leaves like golden spears. "I mean... perhaps there's more to this rainforest than I first thought. And perhaps... there's more to you."

Starflight's breath caught, and for the first time, a genuine smile spread across his face. "I... I think I could say the same about you."

And in that moment, beneath the emerald canopy of the rainforest, something fragile and beautiful began to bloom—a connection as delicate as an orchid, yet as enduring as the stars above.

SCENEBREAK

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, the rainforest humming softly around them. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long, golden fingers of light through the dense canopy. The air was warm and heavy with the scent of blooming flowers and damp earth, and the occasional call of a distant bird or the rustle of leaves broke the stillness. Icemoon's pale, frost-kissed scales glimmered faintly in the dappled light, her wings folded neatly at her sides. Starflight, perched awkwardly beside her, shifted his weight from talon to talon, his dark, star-speckled scales seeming to absorb the sunlight rather than reflect it. His mind was racing, a whirlwind of thoughts and questions, but he couldn't seem to find the words to voice any of them.

Finally, after what felt like an hour or two—though it might have been mere minutes—Starflight cleared his throat, his voice hesitant and slightly hoarse. "So, uh... we've told each other we love, uh, each other and now you're... mates, yes?"

Icemoon turned her glacier-blue eyes toward him, her expression calm and unreadable. She nodded once, a small, precise motion. "That's how it works, yes."

Starflight swallowed hard, his talons gripping the branch a little tighter. "Um, did you... like that NightWing... Deathbringer, was it?"

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Icemoon's mouth. "He was charming, yes," she admitted, her voice cool and measured. "But not my type." She paused, her gaze lingering on Starflight for a moment longer than necessary, before she added softly, "You are."

Starflight's breath hitched, and he felt as though the branch beneath him had suddenly vanished. His wings twitched, and he had to steady himself to keep from toppling over. "I—I am?" he stammered, his voice cracking slightly.

Icemoon's smile deepened, just a fraction, and she shifted slightly on the branch, her black-and-white wing brushing gently against his. The touch was light, almost fleeting, but it sent a jolt through Starflight's entire body. "You are," she repeated, her tone firm but gentle, as though she were stating a simple, undeniable fact.

Starflight's mind raced, a flurry of emotions and thoughts colliding in his head. He had always been a dragon of logic and reason, of scrolls and prophecies, but this... this was something entirely different. It was messy and unpredictable, and it made his chest ache in a way he couldn't quite explain. Yet, despite the chaos in his mind, there was a strange sense of clarity, too—a quiet certainty that this was right.

"I... I don't know what to say," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Icemoon tilted her head slightly, her icy gaze softening. "You don't have to say anything," she replied. "Sometimes... actions are enough."

Starflight blinked, his heart pounding in his chest. For once, his mind was quiet, the usual storm of thoughts and worries momentarily stilled. He looked at Icemoon, really looked at her, and for the first time, he allowed himself to truly see her—not as the aloof, enigmatic IceWing she appeared to be, but as the dragon beneath the frost. And in that moment, he realized that she was right. Words weren't always necessary.

Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned toward her, his wing pressing more firmly against hers. The warmth of her scales against his was a stark contrast to the coolness of her demeanor, and it sent a shiver down his spine. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Icemoon didn't respond, but she didn't need to. The faint smile on her lips and the way her wing curled ever so slightly around his said more than words ever could. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, the two dragons sat together in the heart of the rainforest, their silence speaking volumes.