’i’m getting dreadfully tired of carrying you,’ your dragon had mused into your mind, urging you to get onto sawyer’s dragon.

you knew it was a lie, but your dragon had insisted. conniving matchmaker.

sawyer, blissfully unaware of you and your dragon’s internal conversation remained on sliseag, mulling over the past few months.

he’d finally dragged himself out of his self pity and struggles with self worth enough to craft his prosthetic leg and finally get back to riding. which was why he was following the rest of his squad to riorson’s house, where the rebellion was hosted.

when your dragon soared closer and you hopped down onto his dragon he glanced up, arching a brow.

when you explained what your dragon had said he huffed a laugh, shifting back to make room for you.

sliseag, being the matchmaker he was, arced up so suddenly sawyer had to grab onto you, glad for his riding goggles as his red swordtail flew up.

’what in dunne are you doing?’ he chastised his dragon, to which he was ignored.

wind whipped at his face as his dragon flew higher and higher, until…

a soft breath left him as sliseag’s wings opened and he crested over the cloud line.

the clouds were basked in pink and orange from the setting sun, and with nothing to hide it the sky was a brilliant ombre of similar colors.

“damn,” was all he could muster, forgetting his arms were still around you. he swore sliseag chuckled in his mind.