Chapter 2
The wind was blowing against him powerfully. A blizzard swirled by as Midnight strained to stand against the powerful winds.
"What?" he called out, "Where am I?"
Nothing but the screaming winds answered him
He was knee-deep in freshly fallen snow, flakes of ice danced and flew by, bouncing off his black scales as he held a talon up to shield his face.
He was surrounded by a great white haze, the snow and winds too thick to see through. All Midnight could see around him was the sparkling powder of the snow and the fog of the blizzard.
It was dark— bluish-gray light illuminating around him as he strained to get a sense of direction.
There was nothing.
He spun in a circle, bracing himself against the powerful winds as he strained his eyes into the haze. The snow was so thick he couldn't see more than a few dragon lengths in each direction.
"Hello?" he called out. He had no idea where he was— let alone how he was suddenly here— but he was freezing.
His talons were numb, barely able to move through their stiffness as the wind began to blow even harder— making Midnight stumble.
This couldn't be any worse.
He started to walk, placing one talon in front of the other. It felt like he was floating— a leaf being carried down a river— because he could not feel any of his limbs from the cold.
Midnight kept his wings tucked into him, attempting to keep in what little heat he had left. He wanted to breathe fire, but the powerful wind would have dispersed his flames like it was nothing but mere embers.
The cold was relentless, and the snow was endless. He kept walking, putting all his focus into his next step. His unprotected scales pushed snow aside as he trudged through the blizzard.
He kept on like this for what felt like forever— automatically moving his body with the determination to survive.
"Come on," Midnight muttered weakly. "One more step... One more."
It was like he was trapped inside his own body. The numbness was all he could feel now. The pain was gone— replaced by an empty existence as he looked down at his body. It was like he wasn't there— a mind trapped inside a cage that he could no longer feel. The cold had sucked all feeling from his scales.
Suddenly he heard the faint sound of a voice behind him.
He weakly spun— eyes darting around at the twisting snowflakes as he searched desperately for a silhouette.
"Hello?" he called out, using as much strength as he could muster.
Nothing but the relentless howling of the wind answered.
Midnight just stood there. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to go— nothing he could do. He could hardly even shiver anymore and it felt like he had made no progress at all. There was nothingness in every direction.
He looked down at the white powder beneath him, starting to feel absolutely exhausted. It felt like he was falling in slow-motion— drifting towards nothingness— an abyss with no end. Dizziness took over his vision and his back legs gave out.
He just sat there, the hopelessness so pure it felt like it was radiating within him.
"I'm right here," a whisper suddenly sounded— mere inches from his left ear.
Midnight recoiled weakly, flicking his head to the left. All that met him was the empty expanse of snow.
He had to have been hallucinating— there was no way. He swore he had just heard a voice.
"Help..." he muttered weakly, all strength gone.
He closed his eyes, the darkness setting in. The cold was so excruciating that what was left of him felt like it was on fire— a freezing burning so intense that he could no longer tell where his body ended and the cold began.
Suddenly— in a violent manner— Midnight felt his head unnaturally snap upright to look straight ahead. There— inches from his face— was a dragoness. Midnight could see every scale on their purple-black face. White spines of a tribe were spread out behind their head as they leaned in closer to Midnight.
In an instant, the howling stopped— all that he could hear was his own shaking breathing. The dragoness spoke in a female voice.
"Now take the blood of your own," it boomed.
An indescribable dread filled Midnight— fear so intense that his vision seemed to stretch around him. All he could see was the dragon's face. He couldn't move— he couldn't scream.
And then it all vanished.
Midnight bolted up from his bed, a roar of terror in his throat.
He was in his room, the sound of rain pouring outside.
"W-W-what? How?" he tried— letting out a shudder.
The feeling of fear was still with him as he glanced around his room uneasily. Everything was in place. His bag was on its hook by his door; his slightly organized stack of scrolls were still on the shelf to his left.
He let out a shaky breath. What was that? he thought to himself.
Midnight glanced out his window. He could tell by the dimness that it was later in the day. Rain poured steadily downward— trickles of water danced down the window pane as Midnight turned to walk out of the room.
The stove was still empty, and the temperature was low. Midnight opened the front door and exited, glancing around the exterior of the little house as he walked up to grab a piece of wood.
It had to have been a dream. Midnight had dreamed before, but goodness was that intense. The fear... the cold sucking the life out of him as he lost all sensation— that voice.
Midnight's teeth chattered together lightly as he tossed the wood in the stove and then breathed fire onto the oak, shutting the hatch. He walked backward and sat in the chair from that morning, staring drearily at the burning wood.
"Now take the blood of your own," Midnight repeated to himself quietly. He shook his head, deciding to dismiss the whole experience. He didn't know why it felt so personal— like the voice had been confronting him with the utmost vitriol. One thing he knew for sure was nobody was going to catch him in a snowstorm.
An unknown amount of time passed as Midnight continued to feed the stove wood. He had begun to read over his notes from earlier that day when he heard the front door swing open.
Finch entered along with a gust of cold air. In his talons were some bags and a rolled-up scroll.
"Hey Midnight," the dragon said distractedly as he waddled awkwardly towards his room to place some items.
"I got you a scroll today," he said re-entering, "I thought that you could add it to your collection." He had a smile on his face as he crossed the room to sit across from Midnight. He reached across the table to hand him the scroll.
Midnight studied the worn parchment, glancing up at the Skywing as the dragon began to busily polish a piece of armor that Midnight hadn't seen him with a moment before.
"What is it about?" he asked, curious as to what he could learn.
Reading had been one of his main sources of entertainment. Being isolated like he was during the earlier years of his life had really left him with few options. He read scroll after scroll, learning about different tribes and their tendencies. He had learned about the trade networks between the kingdoms, he had heard different adventure stories that had left his mind in faraway lands of bad guys and heroes.
It was one of his favorite things— just being able to relax and let his mind wander. He had images of the world in his head, and for not being able to travel much in the past, he had to imagine what places would look like. Midnight had read about the towering mountains of the north— snow-capped mountains so tall that few dragons dared to traverse their peaks. There was the bare, rocky desert of the northern Sand Kingdom, temperatures reaching incredibly low temperatures as you approached the Ice Kingdom. He had read about the bogs and foggy swamps of the Mud Kingdom and the towering trees in the Rainforest— sounds of bugs and too many creatures to count all singing at once.
Midnight closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the images swirling in his mind— a world he could control with his imagination.
"It is about animus magic," replied his father, ripping Midnight from his thoughts.
"Oh!" he breathed.
He had heard about the mystical powers from other scrolls, but it had always been mentioned as part of a bigger story. The whole "command anything to do your bidding" thing was beyond his understanding.
"Thank you, father," he said with a smile, his father returning it.
Some time had passed as Midnight studied the scroll. He was alone since his father had left to retrieve dinner from the market. The light from outside had faded to nothing but a soft twilight glow.
Midnight was captivated.
He had deliberately searched out portions on Darkstalker because of what he had learned earlier through his father about the battle of Jade Mountain. Midnight also desperately wanted to understand what was going on with his tribe. How could a dragon just suddenly appear out of nowhere— cause so many problems— then just disappear again? The word from the news scroll was that Darkstalker was now dead, but Midnight had his skepticism. How could such a powerful dragon just die with no story of how he had been killed? It didn't make sense.
Reading about the history, he learned about the Icewing-Nightwing "prince stealing" debacle that had led to a long and bloody war. Midnight learned about how Darkstalker's parents had were the catalyst to one of the longest tribal conflicts in Pyrrhia history. Apparently, the Icewings never had forgiven the Nightwings for stealing their animus power.
But wait a minute... so animus power was just... hereditary? That couldn't be right— who was the first animus... animuses... animi? The more he focused on it the more confused he got, so he just decided to read on.
Midnight was most shaken by the idea that starting a family had caused thousands of years of tension. History had said that the Nightwings had stolen prince Artic, but it didn't make sense. First of all, Artic was an animus— so he wasn't exactly kidnapable— and secondly, he started a whole family against his will? No, it was definitely a love story. Midnight wished he got to read that story.
It was what it was.
Another thing about this history was bothering Midnight was that part of the story seemed to have a hole.
Whiteout.
There had been a part in here mentioning that Darkstalker had a sister, so did that mean she had the animus power gene? After all, she was a direct descendant of the last Icewing animus. Did that mean the Nightwings had an animus family among them right now?
Finch's return redirected Midnight's attention as the old Skywing came through the door. Apparently, the rain had turned to snow as the white flakes fell from his father's body as he shook himself.
"I'm back," he declared. "It's going to be lamb tonight."
The red Skywing placed down two wrapped and cut pieces of meat onto the counter by the stove.
"Apparently we are in for quite the storm," said Finch as he began to unwrap the food. "Dragons arrived in the plaza from farther north and have been flying through it for multiple days. Only those Icewings could accomplish that," he finished.
"Wait, Icewings?" Midnight stammered.
Midnight had seen many dragons come through the town— but Icewings? Never.
"Yeah," his father confirmed, a look on his face.
"Do you not like it?" Midnight asked solemnly, studying Finch carefully.
The dragon had stopped preparing the meat and was looking distantly out the narrow window above the stove. He had a depressed posture to him and his gaze drifted down to the stump on his arm where his talon should have been. "It was long ago..." his father replied in a quiet tone.
Midnight didn't press further.
They ate the lamb in silence, the sound of the wind quietly making it to Midnight's ears past his chewing. The sound was starting to make him feel uncomfortable. Flashbacks from his dream during his mid-day shutdown were starting to enter his mind. The cold, infinite and stretching for miles, was a very real thing. The isolation of being lost— stumbling through endless terrain of knee-deep snow, not knowing where to go or how to save yourself. It was horrifying.
"Lost your appetite?" his father said through a full mouth. Midnight looked down and realized that his tirade of thoughts had made him stop eating.
"I'm full," he partially lied, not fully in the moment. While he was satisfied, his father was right, he had lost his appetite from the invasive thoughts of that dream.
"How was your day," he said, attempting to distract himself from the blizzard in his mind.
"Oh, it was a day," his father replied neutrally. That was his usual response. Sometimes days just went by, none more unique than the others. "I had a setback in the shop that means I will have to spend extra time there tomorrow. Maybe you could join me?"
Every once in a while something like this would happen, and Midnight would help his father. Most of the time he usually worked the bellows in the back, a strenuous and consistent activity that kept the forge at an extremely high temperature. How his father managed to make tools and armor with only one talon would always be a mystery to Midnight. Going back and forth to pump the bellows and then back to confront customers— it was admirable, he'd give him that.
"Of course," he replied with a small smile. It was the least he could do for Finch.
"Well, what about you?" his father suddenly inquired.
"Uh... what?" Midnight replied.
"What about you, how was your day?" Finch repeated with a smile.
Oh...
"Um... well..." Midnight searched for a response. Finch had such good hopes leading into this day, and Midnight really didn't want to ruin that for him because his father already had enough on his talons with the shop. Midnight just didn't feel right pouring his issues onto Finch like that.
So he lied.
"It was great!" he said enthusiastically. Finch, still smiling, raised his brow at Midnight's response.
Uh oh... was that too enthusiastic?
"Well... I'm glad to here that," Finch replied, returning to eating his lamb. Midnight had a sneaking suspicion that Finch knew something was off, but was glad he didn't press.
They wrapped up their dinner and carried on through their night. Finch normally would polish the metal of the variety of items he had brought back from the shop, while Midnight would read through his different scrolls. This was how their nights usually went.
Occasionally on some nights, the two would talk and the older dragon would tell Midnight about his travels. Finch had shared many stories about the grand Skywing city where the palace was located. It was where he had grown up and spent a solid portion of his life. It was only after his military service he had moved on to a more peaceful life in Clementine as a blacksmith.
Midnight was preparing himself for bed as he let his mind wander again about the world he so badly wanted to see. Finch had explained the vast sprawling size of the Skywing capital. He imagined large towers where guards would situate themselves to watch over the city— the terrain leading up to a grand and regal palace with sweeping arches and large, pointed spires. It was such an exciting image. All the people and culture— he could just imagine himself among the dragons, eating unique foods and learning about dragons' lives. It was always easier to socialize in his imagination.
He laid down for the night thinking of such. Why was it so hard for him to just handle himself in social situations? He had to change.
Tomorrow was going to be a different day, and he wasn't going to let his anxiety control him.
He got this.
On this high note, Midnight fell into sleep.
His dreams that night were beeter than his nap earlier that day.
He was standing on a dune in the desert, the sun beating down on his back. The Sandwing that had stuck him earlier was pinned beneath his claws— the malicious confidence from earlier replaced by fear.
Suddenly, her entire form burst into sand, his talons sank into the dune immediately.
Midnight stumbled back in surprise as a large black scorpion crawled its way out of the shifting sand— its eight legs wiggling at a rapid pace as it crawled off into the heat.
Midnight went to chase after it, but as he did so, he found himself stumbling into the center of the plaza. All of the market stalls were empty and in front of him sat a familiar Mudwing.
"Hey Midnight!" he said. "Truffles are actually SOOO good— you were right! They taste like the Earth would. It's like eating nature!"
His cheeks were stuffed full, expanding his already stubby snout to look particularly round.
"Want some?" he offered through a full mouth, extending a talon.
To Midnight's terror, he realized that there were multiple bite-sized holes in the dragon's forearm, but instead of gore and blood, the inside of the dragon resembled dirt. "You were right!" Truffle exclaimed. "I actually AM FOOD!"
Midnight awoke on his own terms this morning, rubbing his eyes and stretching.
He walked over to his window and looked outside. It looked like there was a break in the snow— the clouds still above, gray and overcast— but no falling flakes.
For breakfast Midnight ate his leftover lamb. He had placed it outside in the snow under a bucket to make sure it didn't go bad, later reheating it on the stove.
He said goodbye to his father and made the move to leave, but upon feeling the snow under his claws he felt a wave of anxiety.
The sensation of infinite coldness filled his mind, the sensation of his talons, tail, and wings going numb from freezing making them tingle. Today was a cold day, and with his newfound fear of the cold, Midnight was going to need to cope.
He returned inside to grab a fur cap that his father had bought him as a present to keep him warm. Midnight didn't know if it was because he was a Nightwing or because maybe he was wus, but he always found himself colder than most of the Skywings. He hoped it was the former.
He made his way down into town following the same route, wings tucked close to him to try to stay warm. He walked the familiar path with nothing but the crunching of the snow under his feet accompanying him.
He was weaving through the streets when he came to the same spot he had been yesterday when— exiting the same house as before— he saw Truffle looking rather mischievous. He heard a clang and a bang from inside as a voice yelled "HEY— GET BACK IN HERE!"
Truffle— with excitement in his eyes— looked around and saw Midnight standing there watching the scene unfold. Truffle suddenly ran over to Midnight at full tilt— it did not look like he was going to stop.
"Quick! Hide me!" he yelled as he dove at the Nightwing.
Midnight's eyes went wide and he stepped out of the way as the Mudwing crashed into the snow. Truffle lifted his head, snow falling from his horns as he looked at him expectantly.
"Um..." Midnight said as he scrambled for ideas.
He decidedly stepped in front of the Mudwing and spread his wings as wide as he could, looking back towards Truffle's house, holding his breath.
An older-looking Mudwing burst through the door, looking left and right with an annoyed expression. His eyes locked onto Midnight, who most definitely looked most ridiculous at this moment.
Midnight felt the tension rising in his face and knew he needed to breathe again.
"Oh—" he started, "Um... it is just such a lovely day today... it is just so... yeah!" he finished. He was dying inside.
The Mudwing looked him up and down, raising a brow with a rather concerned expression. He looked up at the sky and let out a defeated huff, and on that note, turned and went back inside.
Midnight just stood there— wings spread— not knowing what to do.
"That was so close oh my goodness I was there then I was here and you saved me I can't believe it just wow—" Truffle bumbled on behind him. Midnight relaxed and turned to the Mudwing.
"So what was that about?" he said reaching down a talon to help Truffle up.
Truffle didn't notice and jumped to a standing position. "I ate his breakfast!" he said with a triumphant, squinty grin.
"Oh... wow," Midnight replied, watching as Truffle brushed snow off of himself.
"Thanks by the way!" he said brightly. "We should totally go to class now. I don't want Sedge to come back out and see me."
The duo made their way to the school exterior— the snow here was thinner from all the dragons walking through the area. Midnight watched as snowflakes began to gently fall again as they made their way inside.
They reached the classroom and to Midnight's surprise, Truffle sat in front of him today. Students began to fill the class as Midnight looked out the window at the snow-covered rooftops.
His attention was brought back to the room when Truffle tapped his front talon that had been resting on the desk.
"Guess whaaaat," he said motioning to Midnight's left in a low whisper. "We have an Icewing in the class now!"
Midnight perked up in surprise. Wow, he was actually going to see one.
He looked over to where Truffle had gestured and saw a young dragoness sitting in the back row like he was. She had white-blue scales and pristine white spines decorating the back of her neck. He glanced down her body and noitced how reflective her scales were, most of the ones on her back being bright white. They had a vibrant sparkle to them like when sunlight hit snow at the perfect angle. Her wings were politely tucked back in an organized manner and she had pure-white underscales. Her tail was perfect— thin and pointed— ending in a slim spine-covered point. It was coiled neatly around her back talons to not take up much space. Her talons matched her color, but had mixes of speckled darker light-blue scales. Long, sleek, white claws adorned them.
His sight moved back up her slender neck as he looked at her structured face. She was calm and collected, looking like she had everything under control. Then he looked at her eyes.
He was floored.
They were a brilliant dark blue, contrasting her lighter colors of white-blue scales. They had a light in them that he had never seen before. He had a feeling inside him he only got when he was looking at the best view a mountain had to offer, or reading the most fantastical scenes from his favorite scrolls. She was beautiful.
He just couldn't look away from her eyes. Wait a minute, he was looking into her eyes.
Midnight's eyes went wide.
He recoiled back and snapped his attention back to Truffle, facing straight forward as he could.
He had just been caught staring.
Midnight gulped as he absently reached around for his bag and pulled out his parchment of notes. Truffle turned around and saw his current state
"What's up with you?" he said as he fiddled with a pencil.
"Um..." Midnight didn't know how to approach this at all. "I just... have never seen an Icewing before."
Truffle tilted his head, his brow raised. He looked Midnight up and down and started to do his I-am-trying-to-not-laugh-right-now frown. "Mhm," he replied. "Alright," and at that, he turned around.
The door opening to the class caught Midnight's attention, but he wished it hadn't. Entering the room was the four Sandwings from the day before. At this point Midnight was confident that the same Sandwing that he had run into was the leader because the other three dragonesses were following her. They positioned themselves in the opposite back corner again like yesterday. The Icewing was right next to them.
The leader turned to the Icewing after a moment and said something inaudible. The other three dragons snickered wickedly at her comment as the Icewing frowned at them and rolled her eyes. She looked down at a necklace around her neck, it was silver, containing a looping pattern of six circles. She then proceeded to unhooked it and dropped it into her bag.
The beautiful Icewing dragoness got up from her position and proceeded to move away from the squad of Sandwings, moving farther down the row and settling down. There was now only one seat between Midnight and the dragoness.
He directed his attention back forward and twiddled his claws and gulped. He felt his heart rate pick up as he began to get nervous.
The thing that saved his anxiety from spiraling was the instructor entering the room. It was a different one than the day before, an older Skywing dragoness with coppery-orange, dull scales. She was quite small for an adult.
"Today we will be learning about the geography of the Southern half of Pyrrhia," she said.
Well, at least she has some enthusiasm, Midnight though.
Snow had been gently falling outside during most of the duration of the class. Midnight had been much more entertained by today's lesson. They had gone over the different locations of rivers, valleys, and borders all over the Rain and Mud Kingdoms. It was something Midnight actually cared about.
He placed his fur cap back on his head as he left the building, the good vibes still in him. Truffle was at his side talking about something to do with Mudwings.
"—and usually we eat a lot of cows because it is my sibs' favorite," he finished.
"So these sibs are like your brothers and sisters? Your main family?" Midnight asked.
The Mudwing family system was such an odd concept to him— not because they didn't have parents— but the idea of having brothers and sisters the same age as you. Midnight had never really considered what it would be like to have a sib.
"Yeah, and they're awesome!" Truffle replied, his never-ending grin plastered on his face.
"So if they're not here, then who is the dragon you live with?" Midnight asked, remembering the events of this morning.
"He is more of a mentor to me, his name is Sedge," Truffle responded as they walked out of the school building's confinements. "I'm supposed to travel with him... to 'learn about the differences between tribes and how to make money'."
"Is that what your sibs wanted?" Midnight inquired. Truffle nodded.
They kept walking through the snow as Midnight thought to himself. Today had been going so much better than the day before. His goal to be more confident and less fidgety was working. However, he wasn't sure if he was becoming more comfortable with himself, or if it was the result of having his new chatterbox Mudwing friend with him.
Unlike yesterday, he didn't want to go home just yet.
"Hey Truffle," Midnight said, an idea coming to mind. "Do you want to go to the plaza with me and shop around a little?"
Truffle's face lit up in excitement at the offer. "Sure," he agreed. "Not like I'm in any hurry to return home to Sedge— I gotta wait until he eats a good meal... hangry is a real thing, you know."
The two made their way to the heart of Clementine. The snow here was mostly melted due to the many dragons walking through the area and the burning braziers hanging from different buildings and poles— their heat radiating much to Midnight's comfort.
Vendors were calling out about how superbly amazing their products were as different smells of foods and places assaulted Midnight's sense of smell.
"Come see the finest fish from the Seawing Kingdom," a voice shouted there, "—and it will be the best massage you've ever had!" another interjected from somewhere else. Voices upon voices called out to the two as they walked— different dragons from different tribes intermingling as they examined products, tried foods, or looked for trading opportunities. This is what made Clementine unique— what made it Midnight's home.
"Have you ever had shrimp before?" Truffle asked as they passed a seafood cart. "Not really... no," Midnight replied, eyeing the odd, little, coiled pink things. "Have you?"
"Nope!" Truffle replied, "That's why I'm asking silly."
Midnight looked skeptical. They were so... fleshy looking. "Where do they come from?" he asked as the duo got in line.
"I heard they come from the sea— they use huge nets to capture thousands of them at once!" Truffle responded as he drew a happy smiley with his claw into a clump of un-melted snow.
The Sea?
Clementine was MILES from the ocean. These shrimp had to be days old— like seriously— how did they pack them? Did they go bad? Midnight didn't really want to find out.
"You know— I think I'll have to take a pass on the shrimp," he said, getting out of line. "Alright— suit yourself," Truffle responded as he reached into his own bag to retrieve a silver coin.
Midnight stood in the gently falling snow, disliking all the little cold poking sensations he felt all over his back. He adjust his little fur cap to cover his ears better, thinking of how it was not only a symbol of love from his father, but it kept his ears warm.
Midnight watched as Skywings, Sandwings, and Mudwings alike walked by. Some were in groups— some alone— talking and laughing as they delighted themselves in all of the delicacies of the vendor stalls. Midnight felt the weight of the coins in his bag under his wing, reminding him of the money he was yet to spend from the day before.
Some time passed by as Midnight thought to himself about the idea of not spending the money at all. Then— suddenly to his left— he caught a glimpse of white scales. He turned, holding his breath as he scanned the sea of dragons. Then he saw her.
She was walking alone down a row of shops glancing left and right— her scales blending intricately with the snow-topped tents and stalls as she twirled her finger in the silver necklace Midnight had seen her take off earlier. Her spines had such an exotic look that Midnight had never seen before— a balance of dangerous and beautiful that he couldn't just quite wrap his head around.
"—they sure weren't all I was expecting. Hey— Midnight, are you even listening to me?" Truffle said, waving his talon in front of Midnight's gaze.
Midnight blinked, turning his attention from the dragoness back to Truffle whose cheeks were full of shrimp as he chewed.
"Um... yes— I agree," Midnight fumbled, not having the slightest idea what Truffle was talking about. He hadn't even noticed his return.
Truffle raised his brow at Midnight, turning his head to look where the Nightwing had been staring. His eyes shot wide knowingly as he spotted the Icewing dragoness in the crowd.
"OH— OH NO WAY—" the Mudwing yelled with a full mouth, a little too loudly for Midnight's liking. "THIS IS THE SECOND TIME TODAY MIDNIGHT."
Truffle began hopping from side to side, glee in his eyes as he started to chew more rapidly— probably with the intent of teasing Midnight more.
"You totally should go talk to her!" he said after a big breath. "You could mumble things that don't make sense because you're so shy— oh my goodness let me watch please I'll pay you." He was almost hysterical, his smile so big that his eyes looked like they were close.
"Uh— well—," Midnight tried. First of all, he wasn't expecting to be called out like that, and secondly, he wasn't expected to be psychoanalyzed like that either. He wasn't that shy, was he? He could hold up a conversation like that... surely.
"Here me out—," Truffle interjected, "How about you buy her a welcoming gift. I'm pretty sure she is new to the town, and it would make a good first impression!" His eyes had nothing but a mischievous glint to them as he nudged the Nightwing in the shoulder. Midnight considered it. After all— he was trying to be more sociable.
He got this.
"Okay, so where do we start?"