"Hello?" the dragonet's voice echoed through the empty space.
She took a tentative step forward, withdrawing a talon as the ground seemed to turn to liquid beneath it.
Whispers of nothing raced around the darkness, mist curling in the corners as dark enveloped everything.
"I'm not going anywhere." a familiar voice rang out, a hazy figure materializing ahead in the blackness.
As the dragonet crept closer, the ground now solid, she could recognize a familiar curve of the snout and soft blue eyes.
"Mother?" she called, racing forward now, mist receding in a pathway.
"I promise."
And she fell through the apparition, talons clutching at emptiness as nothing but icy air slapped her in the snout.
She whipped around, only to see the figure that was her mother shudder, eyes flickering.
"I'm staying right here"
The voice was a gross parody of the one she knew, buzzing and murmuring with a thousand screeches as the thing that wasn't her mother smiled grotesquely.
Tendrils of darkness suddenly came alive, dancing around the creature.
She tried to scream but the shadows choked her back, now clawing at her with frozen touches.
"I promise"
Her mother was back now, warm and kind, but it was too late and the shadows shrouded her light and the blue eyes were lost in dark.
Tears raced down the dragonet's snout, as she kicked and thrashed and her bonds, but they closed around her throat and her eyes and everything went dark and then-
Venus woke up screaming.
Visibly shaking, she blinked the sleep from her eyes, relinquishing her iron grip on the sleeping mat she lay on.
Taking a shuddering breath to clear her head, she peered around the cramped room.
There was the little hearth, last nights fire still lingering in the ashes nestled at the bottom.
There was the faded tapestry she had purchased from the shifty eyed vendor, depicting a sunset falling over a desert landscape. It was worn and dirty, loose threads poking out oddly, but Venus loved that tapestry.
There was the little circular window, potted cactus perched on the ledge. Though the single, shabby curtain was partially drawn, sunlight still peeked inside, washing the room in gold, dust particles drifting lazily around.
There was a musty stack of scrolls, pushed into the corner, each one torn with years of affectionate reading.
There was the small hole in the wall where mice scampered to and fro, scavenging what they could.
And there was Heatstroke, curled next to Venus, sandy scales tinted yellow in the early morning light.
Venus relaxed, familiar sights of her home calming her.
Beside her, she felt Heatstroke stir, tail curling and uncurling lazily.
One violet eye opened then the other, as her mate blinked tiredly.
Venus smiled, and nudged the other dragon with her snout as Heatstroke lifted her neck from the frayed mat.
"Bad dream?" Heatstroke was well aware that Venus never woke up first by choice.
The pale red SkyWing nodded.
"About my mother." she snuggled close to the Sandwing, relishing the slight warmth radiating from her scales.
Heatstroke hummed in understanding, resting her head on top of Venus'.
"How long have you been awake?" The Sandwing casually skewered a lizard rushing past with one claw.
"Just a little longer than you." Venus watched her mate char the lizard with a steady blast of fire.
"Hungry?" Heatstroke offered the blackened reptile to the other dragon.
Venus wrinkled her snout and shook her head no. Heatstroke popped the lizard in her mouth, chewing in silence.
Eventually the red dragon sighed, disentangling herself and standing.
"It's my turn to tend to the herbs." She stretched her wings experimentally, claws scratching wayward patterns in the dust gathered on the floor.
Heatstroke nodded and stood as well, barbed tail brushing against the wall as she moved.
"I'll help you gather them for the market today."
Venus had nearly forgotten. Heatstroke functioned as a healer-for-hire, selling herbs and medicinal supplies in the marketplace monthly, as well as going door to door, and advertising her services wherever she could.
It wasn't much of an income, but there wasn't much to sustain, between the two of them and the tiny hut by the river.
She usually accompanied her mate during the marketplace days, and today was no different.
As the rosy dragon pushed the battered door open, she shivered, despite the sudden rush of warm air. Her chilling nightmare still had her more on edge than she'd admit to her worrying partner.
She shuffled through a familiar path, grains of sand sparkling and shifting as she left talonprints in the soft earth, and sifted a talon through the planter box, a wooden frame filled with gritty soil and a disappointingly small cluster of herbs.
The last few gatherings had less than desirable results, and it seemed this one would prove the same.
Sighing, Venus lifted a dented tin pail from the ground beside the box. They would have to make do with whatever they could earn from the meager harvest. If they were lucky, maybe they'd sell enough to afford a few small luxuries. Like a table. Or some nice jewels.
She fantasized about the extravagances they could have in another life, as she routinely trodded to the riverside, filling her pail.
She could remember the life of a member of nobility she had, moons ago, when she was just a young dragonet, barely hatched.
She remembered parties with glowing torches and shining jewels and red velvet carpets and intricate tapestries with gold thread.
But all that was gone now.
Venus caught a glimpse of Heatstroke through the little window, brow furrowed like it always was when she was reading something. Probably a medicinal scroll of sorts.
She turned away, returning to the task at hand.
Maybe she and Heatstroke didn't have much, but Venus was happy, in her tiny hut with the threadbare tapestry and worn sleeping mat. And the Sandwing healer with the mottled tan scales.
She smiled. These herbs would fetch a fine price at the market.
AN: Here's my contribution to the WoF fandom, lessbians. It'll get better, I hope.