Welcome to Gaia! ::

The older one grabbed the white-scaled wyrmling, chirping and squeaking in anguish at it lunged for floating debris. It wrapped its wings and tail around the debris while keeping its unconscious brother above the water, screaming desperately, hoping someone would notice it.

The wyverns on Haar's dragon were calling down in response, but they didn't know how to help.

The carrier of the incense burner ahead turned his head back to observe the situation. He looked promptly toward their guests, Haar and the dragon, and saw that the wyrmlings on the large one's back were all in a frenzy over something. Puzzled, he called to his brother.

"Go!"

Then the holder of the incense angled his wings and swooped backward, allowing the others to advance on their own. He sailed up to Haar's wyvern with an almost suspicious look before glancing down.

The two little ones in the water alarmed him. He screamed, spreading his thorny wings and diving down. The wyvern put the incense burner between his jaws and carefully secured it there, then swooped down and tried to grab the drowning wyrmlings. Wyverns were not made for hovering, especially those of Arheins.

The small ones seemed particularly awed by this clever maneuver. Beorc could be such smart creatures! The incense-bearer, having his duty snatched away from him, soared around Haar and his mount with another puzzled look. He assessed the condition of the wyrmlings the strangers bore, then determined that the wyrmlings were safe with them.

But he remained suspicious and did not utter the 'thank you' threatening to spill from his stiff wyvern lips. Besides, the incense burner was still in his jaws. He flapped his wings and propelled himself forward, picking up speed and shooting across the canvas of the sky with abrupt speed.

The surge of the waters was quickly receding. A few of the younger ones were too far behind, so the incense-bearer descended and collected one, then deposited it further up wherever the large wyverns would not trample it. Then he circled back and repeated this until the stragglers were caught up.

Soon they completely left the flood behind. The fliers began to stop, noticing this development, and the charge slowed and eventually stopped as well, with rows of wyverns bumping into each other and glancing backward.

Hearts were beating furiously and muscles burned, but all was quiet as they saw what became of Arheins.

The population dispersed slightly so that each individual would have elbow room. Brother, sister, and mate exchanged glances and looks, all seemingly suspended in indecision of their own, once again a single unit controlled by a single mind. No one really seemed to know what to do. The forest was still there, still a temporary refuge, but they were all baffled by how their home of Arheins had merely vanished underwater.

The incense bearer approached Haar and the nameless wyvern visitor. He took the incense burner from his jaws and fixed bright green eyes on the strangers.

He put a claw over his heart.

"Frode," he said, introducing himself, barely pursing his stiff lips to perform the 'fr' sound. Then he pointed at Haar's clavicle in wait of a name. The wyrmlings remained on Haar's dragon, tense and wondering whether or not to get down.

"Haar."

The name was fairly easy to pronounce. Frode turned his bright green eyes onto the large wyvern.

"Tia...mat."

It seemed that Frode had to touch his tongue to his lips to produce the 'm' sound. A wyvern speaking at all was a strange thing, perhaps completely unheard of, and so it could be regarded as unsurprising that a wyvern would have to manipulate its mouth differently to produce certain sounds.

Frode nodded shortly before he turned away, clutching the incense burner close to his chest. As he turned away the wyrmlings jumped off of Tiamat and scurried off to join the others. A few, instead of reuniting with their brothers, arranged themselves in a circle around Tiamat, still captivated by their visitor and his rider.

Everything had suddenly slowed. No longer in a stampede, the population seemed to slink around in random directions, some continuing to the forest.

Those wide-eyed, innocent, oblivious wyrmlings gathered around Tiamat and Haar merely stared up, almost smiling. They were the ones that hadn't fallen in the water, the ones who chose to stay and enjoy their flight, abandoning their fear for exhilaration that they hoped to achieve one day, the ones who had already forgotten what fear was like.

The others milled around, more and more groups retreating into the forest for their food and shelter. They slowly followed one another though some lingered to take in the situation.

Frode rejoined his older, white-scaled brother, holding the incense burner close to his chest. None of them knew where to get incense or how to light it, but they all knew it was important to the person who'd raised the first of their population. He had to keep it safe for their father.

Frode looked over at the strangers and the wyrmlings gathered around them. Would the strangers choose to leave, or would they stay?

The wyrmlings stumbled after Haar and Tiamat, eager to continue observing them.

Most of the groups had transferred into the forest by then. None were doing anything of interest aside from traveling, for the wyverns were too shaken up by the catastrophe to go hunting or foraging. Some were trickling into the deeper depths, some were going in circles, and some were hardly moving beyond the peripherals of the area.

Frode was joining his brethren into the forest. He noticed that the strangers were following and paused, leering over at them suspiciously, holding the incense burner in one claw.