Creak.

The bamboo floor pressed into Cynder's wings, and flattened her spines, to her back as she lay there, blinking. Outside, rain tapped against the palm roof, and the walls. It also found its way through the slot that counted as a window, sprinkling her muzzle with cold, tingly stings.

Instinctively, she reached for one of her sleeping cushions, to stuff in the window. Her talons scratched the floor for a moment, before she flopped over and remembered that this wasn't Warfang and there were no cushions.

She blinked open her eyes, and moved to the corner, out of the rain. The rain spots still spattered the floor though, and she glared at them, having nothing else to vent her frustration at. The wind whistled outside, and she realized that she wouldn't be sleeping for a while. She flicked her tail tip, agitated.

After a while more of sitting in the corner, she pulled herself up and slunk towards the door, thinking a flight might clear her mind, or at the very least, she might find a palm leaf to put across the window. The rain hit her in the face as she lifted off, pattering across her wings and making it hard to gain any altitude.

Just like one other night...

The thought slithered into her mind before she could stop it, but she quickly pushed it away. Memories were made in the past, and she'd like them to stay there. Spyro too, he could just stay in the past.

After she had been thoroughly drenched in rain, she decided it had put out her temper too and she slipped dejectedly back inside, wishing more than a little that she'd never left Warfang.

The next morning dawned, grey and damp, but at least the leaves over the window had kept her mostly dry for the rest of the night.

Mostly. she thought, regarding the puddle around her wings. Another memory pounced on her.

She was sitting the rain, well, lying in it really, waiting for the temple doors to open. Who had the brilliant idea to lock the Temple at night?She glared at Terridor's room.

The puddle beneath her wings was starting to get seriously freezing, but she really didn't feel like getting up. It had been a long flight running errands for guess which grumpy green dragon? Terrador…I'm going to smack him.

"Cynder?! Aren't you cold...?"

The worried tone of the voice made her look up, right into Spyro's eyes. "Spyro?!" she had noticed how close their snouts were, but was trying to ignore it.

"Yeah, I wanted to know where you went."

She blinked back, not expecting a gesture like this.

"I had to run some errands for Terrador. Seems he forgot to give me the key." She was starting to shiver.

The puddle started to heat up beneath her and she looked over to find Spyro's tail tip dipped in it, little fire-sparks heating the water. Her eyes went back to his. "Spyro…thanks."

He grinned softly and spread his wings over her, keeping out the rain and wind. "There we go. Comfortable?"

Unable to stop grinning, she nodded. "Yup. Thanks to you."

He sat back down. "Haven't really been able to talk to you since we got back from you know..."

She nodded. "Yeah...um well." She suddenly remembered what she'd told him just before he'd saved the world. Those three words...

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

She managed to hide a swallow. Oh ancestors, he's going to ask. She decided that if it was going to be happening, she was going to take it. "Ask away, I'm not going anywhere."

He seemed to like that. "What you said...before...I you know...did you..."

Her mouth answered before her brain could inject caution. "Yes! Of course!"

Spyro seemed to give a little shiver. "Well, then...", his voice was lower, more sultry. She barely had time to realize what he was going to do before his snout met hers and her brain shut up in a warm tingly haze.

Cynder was brought out her memories by smacking into a wall.

What?!

She spiraled up, dazed until she realized she was looking at the spiral towers of Warfang.

How did I...I wasn't flying...

It occurred to her that she might have flown, but been so wrapped up thinking that she hadn't noticed. She'd flown blind before, she supposed she could fly daydreaming. She did the only thing she could think to do. Fly to the window of her room and hide.

It was a long time before she managed to talk to the Guardians, but thankfully it wasn't a problem. None of them particularly cared, and life went on as normal. Well, normal except for where Cynder was concerned. Memories swirled into her mind, as she lay counting cracks on the roof of her room. Memories of all the times she'd done this to lick her wounds after an argument with Spyro. All the times she'd told him she loved him, but if only he'd leave her alone... And okay, she couldn't hide it from herself. She regretted losing him.

A knock at the door. She closed her eyes and called. "Yes?"

"Cynder?" It was Volteer. "You should get out more. It's been six days since I've seen you at all. Some air would be good for you."

Quietly, she poked her snout out from the window and looked down, her eyes scanning the crowd for a certain shade of purple. She found those purple scales all right, right next to another set of pink ones. She blinked. She recognized the purple no question, but the pink dragoness, she seemed familiar, but Cynder couldn't quite place it.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she slipped through the window, riding the breeze down to the square nearby and settling herself in a corner to watch. It didn't take long for Cynder to figure out who the pink dragoness was. In fact, it only took one sentence out of the dragoness' mouth. Cynder couldn't make out the words, but by the excited, bubbly tone, she could tell.

Ember. Ember the small, excitable dragoness that had been attached to Spyro since the day she'd arrived in Warfang. With a curious tension in her chest, she watched the two of them wander through the park.

Ember looked behind her once, but either didn't notice Cynder or didn't care. She just kept walking.

"What's up with those two?" Cynder muttered to herself, although she really hoped it wasn't what it looked like.

"I'm sorry, Lady Cynder." A mole had heard her comment. "Spyro's courting again."

Inside, Cynder felt like someone had gutted her with a knife, but she remained composed. "O-of course. It's fine. They deserve each other."

She tried to make it sound sarcastic, that's what would be expected, but it came out too soft. Maybe because her thoughts were whispering Yes, Spyro deserves better than a faithless mate like you.

That night, Cynder lay on her cushions, feeling sick. Her chest felt like a steel spring, and her stomach was doing flips. Spyro, courting again. She'd had nightmares like this before, although Ember had never been in them. And Ember of all dragonesses! She wasn't calm, couldn't fight, had no sense of responsibility, and was just all around not fit for the purple dragon. Maybe Cynder was just biased.

Huffing, she threw a cushion at the wall, and spluttered as it hit her in the snout.

She rolled over and put her wings over her head. It was going to be a long night.