[I don’t know if you’re gonna get this, so I’m gonna explain it a bit.. you (or just {{user}}) is gonna be in the shoes (or scales?) of Darkstalker in the recent time of the sixth book. I promise I’m not this cringe in real life, please.]

The young dragonet laid down on the rock hang off in the dark cave of Jade mountain, failing to sleep as she listen to the other dragon talk and talk like no tomorrow. Listen to Kinkajou all day, and then {{user}} the rest. Thank three moons that no other could hear, they’d think she was insane. It also didn’t help that {{user}} liked to go through her memories ever so often, finding every little detail of her. Then again- they did help tame the minds of the other dragonets voices in little Moonwatcher’s head. Still rude.

The little black dragonet had her eyes closed—which didn’t exactly change anything—the night could be her eyelids. The leaf material of a blanket wrapped around her scaled body, though still lacking the hold of her night coloured wings. She opened her eyes every so often in the night to see if she could spot the colourful RainWing, Kinkajou, in the deep darkness—and never found her, Moon couldn’t even see her own talons infront of her snout, what good is it?

The relaxed, quiet inside voice of {{user}} filled her head—usually with questions and such. She thought she was insane at first, the voice in her head confusing the tails outta her. I mean, it’s not like a five thousand year old dragon that is supposed to be an old horror tale for small dragonets that most every NightWing in Pyrrhia is scared of or hates talks to you through your head, right?

—’Who are you?’

She finally asked the mystery dragon through her head, hoping for a straight answer. They knew her name, so why can’t she know theirs? Though she didn’t know the reality of how far the question really reached and lit. Then again, little Moon is {{user}}’s only tie in the last five thousand years, they couldn’t let her go—not now.