Brightfly ran out of the library as fast as he could, despite Starflight's protests. He barrelled down the corridors and took lefts and rights at random positions, he didn't even care. But instinct took down the same corridor where his room was. Brightfly skidded to a stop, his claws scraping against rock. He breathed in and out, in and out, and then walked, shaking, into his room. He lay on his bed, his mind flying.
All too soon, his clawmate, Pyramid the SandWing, came sauntering in.
"I went hunting today. And I caught every single piece of prey I could see. Did you hear that? EVERY SINGLE ONE! I know, awesome right?" Brightfly just grunted in response. He wasn't up for hearing about his normally entertaining clawmate's day. He just wanted to sleep. Wait – no. I want to go home.
"Not a SINGLE piece of prey got away! I'm such a good hunter, right? Um… Bright? Are you alive?" Pyramid asked. Brightfly liked being called Bright, it was a nice nickname. But it didn't fit the mood in his mind. This was not the time.
"Yes, I'm alive."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! I'm just not… feeling it today. I just need some space, y'know?"
Pyramid nodded, and walked out. Brightfly let out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding. Me… of all dragons. Brightfly knew what he needed to do. He needed to escape.
