Haath reared up and then slammed her feet down, gouging grooves into the dirt with her talons. Sharath's scolding was silly. Of course Haath knew where dragons came from, but that didn't make golds any more special, in her opinion. Without Green dragons, there would be no Weyr. After all, who on Pern would fly and fight off all the thread if not for Greens? They were half of the population of Pern, as it was, and golds couldn't fly thread. Not in any meaningful way, anyway. Flamethrowers were a joke, in Haath's mind. Golds were just the cleanup crew; Greens were the fighters, Blues were the support, and browns had a good flame. Bronzes were wingleaders, only because of their size and the fact that they could flame. Really, Haath didn't think they should fly. They were too large, too awkward; why didn't they play cleanup like the golds? Whatever, Haath wouldn't question human thought and logic too much, it didn't make a lot of sense to her, and was liable to give her a headache.
But oh, how mad her delight now! Originally she had been the one in the foul mood, but now it seemed both Sharath and Sakneth were angrier than she. How amazing! Truly a victory for chromatic dragons; and she'd done it all without incuring a scratch. Haath brimmed with pride. She turned and sauntered away, head held high. Oh, she did so love misbehaving. Perhaps she should have fits more often, just look at what she'd accomplished! She'd put both that bronze, herdbeast with wings and that gold, flameless wonder in their place, she felt. Plus, they were both thoroughly unhappy now. Good. They deserved to be. She chortled with obnoxious dragon laughter, and took wing herself, aiming for her Weyr. She would have to tell Hers all about it. And just wait until she told Astarteth! Against all odds, this had turned out to be a very good day indeed.
