Four-month-old Gretel pounded her striped wings against the storm’s strong gales. There was nothing but ocean in her immediate area, but through the misty thick gray clouds she was passing through, her hot pink eyes never lost sight of an island in the distance. The hatchling did her best to direct the air current into a tailwind, but both her body and powers were miniscule in comparison to nature, and the bombardment of cold raindrops weighing down her light frame made travel in this weather even harder.

She gave up trying to control the storm and decided to control herself instead. The tiny wyvern summoned new winds that aided her movements in flight, and she focused on dodging the raindrops simply because she hated how cold they felt. Then Gretel smiled, turning it into a game; if she could make it to the island while getting hit by as few raindrops as possible, she'd consider that a victory.

So she laughed and even managed to work with nature’s gales now that she wasn't trying to seize the entirety of the storm; just focusing on redirecting the ones immediately around her helped her not only dodge the onslaught of rain, but also propel herself toward the island much more easily.

Gretel finally reached it, seeking the shelter of a forest in the lowlands. She picked the most stable tree and perched on its branch, nestling between the leaves. She caught her breath, then settled down, lightly gripping the bark with her claws so she wouldn't fall as the branch rocked precariously in the wind. The hatchling knew from similar experiences that it wouldn't break, though, so she didn't mind it.

Now that she could rest after flying so far from her place of emergence, Gretel let herself relax, taking in the drumming of the rain and the creaking of the trees around her. She found the spade-shaped tip of her tail thumping against the branch in rhythm with nature’s music. Then the wind dragon hatchling opened her mouth and let her voice harmonize, improvising a song.

Whenever it grew quiet, the baby wyvern matched its volume, and when it picked back up, so did her voice. This continued until the storm finally passed.

Gretel rested her head on the branch and closed her eyes to sleep, still smiling. That's when a voice startled her awake.

“Was that you?” a young male called up to her from the ground.

She froze and looked down to see a violet revealer dragon, whose light green eyes were wide with astonishment. He was perhaps not much over a year older than her, his ears perked. “Was what me?” she asked.

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“That singing. It was beautiful.”

The hatchling grinned. “Thanks!”

“I've never heard anything like that in my life…” he admitted, the biped adjusting to a more comfortable stance by shifting his weight on to leg and letting the bending the other to rest his clawed foot behind him. “Can I ask… how you sing like that?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. I just go with the flow.”

“I see…” His ears lowered with disappointment and he hugged his lighter violet chest, the frills on either side of his head flowing lightly from the motion of him facing slightly away. “That’s okay. I guess sounds like those are just natural for wind type dragons.”

“I can try to teach you, if you want,” she offered.

“Really?” His previously straightened tail lifted up into the S-shape that revealer dragons were normally seen with.

She giggled. “Why not?”

“I mean… don't you have places you're in a hurry to get to? Every other flighted dragon that stops here never stays for long.”

Her gaze traveled to his small, blue-violet wings. “What about you?”

He paused. “Revealers’ wings don't fully develop until we're two years old… Until then, I'm kind of stuck down here.”

“Where is your society? I could go get someone from there to pick you up–”

“Wait! That’s… not a good idea.”

“Huh? How come?”

“My parents live there.”

“And that's a bad thing?”

“It is when they're the reason I'm down here in the first place…”

Gretel hesitated. Not wanting the awkward silence to last, she changed the subject. “Is there enough food? I can stop by every day and bring you some!”

“I'm good on food,” he assured her. When she was visibly disappointed, he added, “But I'm not good on company. If you want to stop by just to hang out or give me singing lessons, I'd enjoy that.”

She beamed. “Yay! My name's Gretel. What's yours?”

The revealer dragon tensed. “I don't really have one.”

The hatchling gaped at him. “Wha-a-at?! But you're a social dragon! Aren't your parents supposed to name you?”

He shrugged, averting his green eyes. “Hard to name someone if you never intended to raise them.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Solitary dragons name themselves, usually,” she told him.

“Really?”

“Yeah! Well, some solitary dragons are named by their parents if they stay together in the same territory–like poison types. But for ones who are usually alone from the start–like wind types–any name is fair game! If there are any names you've heard, just take it,” she giggled. “O-o-or you could even make one up!”

“Revealer dragons are named after one of their traits–usually in relation to others… But I don't really interact with anyone, so I don't know what's fitting.”

She shook her head and leapt down, landing lightly in front of him with a determined grin. “In that case, I'll think of the best name ever for you!”

Her new friend was taken aback at first, then laughed with a mixture of amusement and something akin to relief. He returned her playful smile. “I’ll hold you to that…!”