A Collection of Lone Dancer Writings.

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Darklight was shunned by others ever since she was born. And all for something she couldn’t even control. Other dragons would be all smiles and cheer until they saw her teardrop scales. Then they would stare in disgust, distrust. The ones that let her call them her friends, didn’t even particularly like her. They thought she would use their inner thoughts as blackmail.

There was something destroying about immediately seeing the process of neutrality quickly turning to fear in real time, the whispers of a dragon’s mind telling her how much she was a terror. While she heard everyone, and was surrounded by so many, she felt lonely, unheard herself. After all, who knew what the scheming, mind reading nightwing might do.

Darklight was alone, staring at her reflection in the lake, the water lazily rippling. Her silver teardrops glittered like two tiny diamonds. She hated them, she hated them, SHE HATED THEM! In a rage, she threw a rock nearby into the water, yelling as she did so, scaring some birds into squawking flight.

The image of her distorted, melted into something unrecognizable, but there was no moons cursed teardrops. Somehow, this twisted reflection of her looked normal. Oh how she would love to be normal, to not have the whispers, to not have the stares. And an idea struck her like a comet.

A way to become normal, or at least to appear like it. She first thought of ink, but that would wear off, and it would only a single slip up for her to forget to apply it, or for it to wash off. No. She needed something more permanent. Rip them off her own voice whispered, something that was normally overrun by the voices of others.

They were so tiny, it would be nothing. So hard to notice. Her claws moved without thinking. It was like fire and ice, racing through her skull, tears brought to her eyes, her body shaking and trembling. Dark blood dribbled down like ink into the lake below, tainting it slightly. One bloody scale was in her claws now. She repeated the process, doing her best to not scream.

Now she had two tiny bloody silver scales, so tiny, yet so significant in their meaning. Blood and tears mixed and mingled down her face, dripping down, and dropping off. She couldn’t help but laugh, despite the pain. It was more a crying laugh, but joy was there. She was free, SHE WAS FREE!

She dunked her head into the water, cleaning off her burning face. When she surfaced again and looked at her reflection, a normal, if slightly red-eyed looking nightwing looked back. She was free. In an effort to also fully seperate herself from her past self, she decided on a new name.

Quietthought. It was perfect. She was free.


It’s been exactly one day since Quietthought pried off her own teardrop scales, one day since becoming normal. It was so freeing. Of course, she couldn’t go back to Jade Academy, but she didn’t have fond memories of the place, thanks to the constant shunning.

Now? Now she decided to wander the realm! See the many sights, and explore the farthest depths! Who was going to stop her? Certainly not any overly judgmental dragons about TWO TINY ITTY BITTY SCALES. Quietthought was free now, and ain’t no one gonna bring her down. Do you, do you even know how thriced moons lovely it is, to greet a dragon, have them smile genuinely back, not a single thought, of *Oh, this nightwing a mindreader... ugh, mindreaders* going around in their head. Her mood was elavated she might as well be flying without flapping her wings.

A dragon even commented on her smile, saying it was a nice one, and thinking that as well. She didn’t even realize she was smiling. Normally her mood was too sour and withdrawn to even consider such a thing. But this was Quietthought, the happy, normal nightwing.

That was until she bumped into Scorch. Of all the belligerent, rude, cruel, and bullying dragons about her mindreading there was, Scorch the skywing was easily her least favorite. Well this was it, the jig was up. However, when they bumped into each other, he didn’t recognize her. His thoughts were more like, *Huh, this dragon looks familiar. But then again, it’s a nightwing, and they all look the same.* There some more abstract thoughts as well, but Scorch, of all the dragons she would love to make eat a cactus, ON FIRE, didn’t recognize.

But also, no, nightwings did not look all the same, and all Scorch had to do was visit the nightwing village in the rainforest. But nope, the skywing would never even consider such a thing. Scorch politely apologized, and continued on his walk, none the wiser. That last thought she heard before he faded away was *wait, maybe the was Darklight’s sister. Well-* And off his thoughts cut off.

Quietthought couldn’t help but to cackle, a mirthful sound. And perhaps a tad bit mad from the stress she just went through. And off she went, going down the road for ADVENTURE. She did ambly wonder why Scorch was doing so far out from Jade Academy, but what did she care.

She was free.

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