But before she could speculate any longer, she heard voices from atop the mountain. Tomorrow is the brightest night, isn't it? That means that the dragonets will be born tomorrow and stop this war. Her mind once again shifted to the Talons and talk of the Dragonet Prophecy. She realized that she was getting distracted and veering dangerously off course, and steered herself back on track, her unstable cargo rattling and clinking against each other in the wind. For Frigga, this war has gone on long enough. I hope he's accomplishing everything he wanted to. She missed talking and mentoring her younger brother. He hadn't even written her a letter, not for a few years, and she missed him dearly. It had been years since her brother had joined the Talons of Peace – a group of dragons dedicated to ending the war and bringing peace to Pyrrhia.
However, she wasn't just thinking about her life in the war, she was thinking about one particular dragon. She was no longer directly involved with it and instead just lived on her own while providing service to patrons on her travels. The IceWing was thinking about more than just her work she was thinking about her life in the war. Her white cape was a symbol for her craftwork, signaling to dragons that she had valuable things to sell and trade. It had been around three years since she'd been doing this making and selling merchandise as well as weapons for any dragons interested in what she had to offer. She found heavy and chaotic weather ironically rather relaxing and nostalgic, her home being the frozen north after all. While navigating the whipping windstorm, her thoughts drifted. As a merchant and a crafter, she had to keep this cargo intact, otherwise her customer would be rather displeased with her.
A pale, dull blue dragon was navigating through this dangerous barrage of torrential rainfall, flying with some very delicate cargo – pottery and glasswork. The mountains were alive with wind and rain, a torrential storm lighting the sky and tearing apart the storm clouds.
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