A/N: Written for the 5,10,20,50,70,100 fandoms challenge, fandom 11.
The First Dragonmoon Without Her
Kai's five-colour scales shone in the full moon. He looked at them, remembering Ping's face, watching her image swim amongst the colours he wore, and hoped. Hoped that Ping, wherever she was, was remembering him too.
He touched a scale, the first he had ever willingly pulled out – though he had scratched many away. In the pools, to scrub away blood, dirt and grime. When a particular itch was being stubborn. When he was sparring with the other dragons. They grew back of course, and he'd long lost count of them. But the one he had given to Ping was special, and he remembered exactly where he had plucked it from.
As an afterthought, he plucked the new scale, watching it glitter in the moonlight. There were sounds around him; the other dragons were restless, he knew. He was taking too long. But they would wait for him. It was he after all, the Head, who would start the Dragonflight.
The single scale shone in his claws as he spread his wings. He sent his thoughts to Ping, knowing she would never be able to hear them – though perhaps she could. His heart lifted at the memory of her meeting his father in a similar dream. Maybe, with his scale in both his hands and hers, she would see him on this Dragonmoon.
He flapped once, twice, and pushed off from the ground…and far away, Ping, eyes closed in a deep slumber, smiled.