Morrowseer sat high upon the cliff, the wind whipping around him like the wings of a thousand dragons. Below, the ocean surged and crashed against the shore, its roar a deep, resonant heartbeat that seemed to echo the very essence of the world. The waves, frothy and wild, clawed at the golden sands, but their sound was but a whisper compared to the fierce shouts of the dragons soaring above. Their calls rang out like thunder, powerful and unyielding, as they danced through the sky, each beat of their wings stirring the air with an electric energy.

Morrowseer's gaze swept over the horizon, where the sun dipped low, casting a fiery glow that mirrored the vibrant colors of the dragons. He felt the pulse of their presence, a connection that transcended mere sight and sound. This was a realm of magic and might, where the ancient bond between dragon and land thrummed in the very air he breathed. As the salty breeze tousled his hair, he closed his eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling both the weight of destiny and the thrill of adventure that lay ahead.

Just then, a sleek SeaWing glided into view, his shimmering scales glinting like jewels in the fading sunlight. He approached Morrowseer with a gentle grace, nudging him affectionately with his snout. "Are you alright, Morrowseer?" the SeaWing inquired, his voice smooth and soothing, like the ebb and flow of the tide.

Morrowseer, the dark NightWing, nodded slowly, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Yeah, I'm fine. But do those dragonets of yours ever shut up?" he replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The SeaWing chuckled, a sound like rippling water. "I guess they won't be quiet anytime soon," he said, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

With a playful flick of his tail, the SeaWing called out to the group of energetic dragonets frolicking nearby, their laughter echoing like music in the air. "Hey, you little whirlwinds! How about a little less noise and a bit more adventure?" The dragonets paused, their eyes wide with excitement, ready to respond to the call of the sea and the promise of a new escapade.

The dragonets fell silent, their playful chatter abruptly halted. "I knew it!" crowed the little NightWing dragonet, Fatespeaker, as she sprang off a stone pillar, flapping her wings with a sense of pride that belied her size. "I knew a NightWing was coming to see us! Didn't I tell you all this would happen?"

"Did you?" Ochre scratched his large brown head, his brow furrowed in thought.

"No," Viper replied flatly, crossing her arms.

"Don't think so," piped up Squid, peering out from behind Nautilus's sturdy frame.

"Even if you did, you also predicted an earthquake, a new Talon of Peace, and that we'd have something besides seagulls for breakfast this week," Flame chimed in, a teasing lilt in his voice. "And since none of those have happened, you can see why we might have stopped listening."

"Well, I knew!" Fatespeaker insisted, her voice bright and unwavering. "I saw it with my powers! And I foresee that he brought us something great for breakfast. Didn't you?" She beamed up at Morrowseer, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Morrowseer blinked slowly, caught between amusement and disbelief. "Hmmm. Nautilus, a word, please."

"Can I come, too?" the black dragonet asked, bouncing closer to Morrowseer. "I've never met another NightWing before! Although, of course, I feel a very strong psychic connection with our whole tribe."

"Stay. Here." Morrowseer pressed one claw gently but firmly into her chest, guiding her back to the other dragonets. With a huffing snort, she sat down, curling her tail around her talons in a show of feigned annoyance.

As Morrowseer stepped down the rocky outcrop, seeking a moment of solitude, he turned to find Nautilus right behind him. However, clinging to his tail was the SeaWing dragonet, Squid, who seemed utterly unfazed by the disapproval in Morrowseer's gaze.

Morrowseer sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "Anyway, where is the IceWing dragonet?" he asked, his tone turning serious.

Nautilus froze, his eyes widening. "What? No, no, there's no IceWing dragonet, you know that," he replied, his voice edged with urgency.

Morrowseer narrowed his eyes, the weight of their conversation pressing heavily upon him. "Blister wants a dragonet as strong as Frost, you know that."

Nautilus sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I told you, there are none."

Morrowseer's dark eyes gleamed like polished obsidian, reflecting the faint light filtering through the cavern's jagged roof. His tail flicked once, twice — each movement sharp and deliberate, cutting through the suffocating silence. The NightWing's imposing form loomed over the gathered dragons, shadows curling around him like loyal pets, eager to obey his every whim.

"I see," he finally said, his deep voice reverberating off the stone walls like a low growl of distant thunder. There was no trace of disappointment in his tone — only cold calculation. "Well then."

Morrowseer took a measured step backward, his talons scraping against the rock with a soft, grating sound. His lips curled into a sneer that never quite reached his eyes. "Then these dragonets are useless."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, heavy and suffocating. Nautilus stiffened, his SeaWing scales shifting from sapphire to stormy gray, reflecting the turmoil raging inside him. His eyes flickered toward the dragonets in question, who cowered behind him, their small bodies trembling with fear.

Morrowseer's gaze lingered on them for a fraction too long, as if savoring the sight of their fear. Finally, he turned his attention back to Nautilus.

"You'd do well to remember, SeaWing," Morrowseer said softly, his voice now a venomous whisper, "that failure comes at a cost. Pray for your life — pray for all their lives — that I don't decide the NightWings should crush the Talons of Peace beneath our claws."

The threat dripped from his words like poison, cold and deliberate. His wings unfurled in a single, fluid motion, revealing the shimmering constellation-like scales scattered across the inky black membrane. Stars seemed to dance across his wingspan, a cruel mockery of the beauty they were meant to represent.

Without another word, Morrowseer shot into the air, his massive form vanishing into the swirling mist above. The sound of his wings beating against the wind faded quickly, leaving an oppressive silence in his wake.

Nautilus exhaled shakily, his usual calm demeanor shattered. He glanced down at his son, who was clinging to his tail with wide, fearful eyes. "Reed," he murmured, gently prying the young SeaWing loose. "It's all right now. He's gone."

But even as he spoke, Nautilus couldn't shake the feeling that Morrowseer's shadow still lingered, curling around the edges of the camp like a predator lying in wait.

And deep down, he knew the NightWing's threat wasn't an empty one.

The Talons of Peace were far from safe.