Moonstone Quarry touchdown boy

Either she understood his words or, at the very least, his tone. Wyvern hissed again, though she remained attached to his spine. He turned his head to glance at her, arching a brow in amusement at her ruffled feathers. By the time he faced forward again, the she-wolf was… nowhere to be seen.

Huh… Cambria said after a moment of blinking one way, then the other. Did you scare her off without even really trying? he mumbled, more to himself than to Wyvern.

Mystified and intrigued, the Dragonling padded closer to where he’d last spotted the pale figure. He envied her powers of concealment, especially as a white wolf. Winters favored them, though this time of year, they stuck out like sore thumbs.

He paused to sniff at the air, noting the resident pack’s scents. He felt the nighthawk shift on his back, folding and refolding her wings. Cambria didn’t try to look at her, though. He just panned his two-toned eyes from left to right, wondering if it was possible she’d dove into the quarry.

Marco…? he tried, because why not.