When Ingonth suggested they celebrate the lives of Aviforth and Cavera by visiting the last place on Pern they had ever seen, he hadn't imagined it would be such a boring spot. Bloodstone Cothold might have neighbored Nabol, but it shared none of the Hold's tarnished flair.

We should go. There's nothing to see. His voice was vaguely petulant, though still leagues away from an actual pout. He didn't want to leave, but he refused to shoulder the burden of choosing to stay. Luckily, his rider was well versed in Mercurial Blue Dragon.

"You made me bring lunch. We'll be here until I finish, at the very least." There was a sunny hill below them, and T'rin wordlessly nudged Ingonth to land atop it. They settled in silence, and by the time they spoke again, they had given their friends a lot more than a moment of respect. Retrieving a tightly wrapped bundle from one of the pouches strapped across Ingonth's midsection, T'rin gently unraveled it and held its contents up for inspection.

"Spinach puff?"

You didn't. The dragon's citrus eyes swirled with bright purple as he plucked the first of his treats from his rider's open hand. I haven't had one of these since I was a hatchling.

"That's because I knew you would murder me if I let you get thicktail."

I would never.

"Lies." T'rin reclined against his blue, offering Ingonth a second delicate puff. They watched the cothold below, the dragon waiting to finish swallowing before he spoke, even though he had no difficulty doing both.

I have so much to say that he'll never hear.

"Hm." T'rin sifted through one of Ingonth's packs, pulling out another bundle. From it he retrieved a pair of small pies, one meat and one berry, as well as a couple of utensils. He finally replied as he ate, choosing to sample the berry pie first. I miss her smile, as shallow as that sounds.

I didn't choose you for your depth.

The back of T'rin's spoon left a berry-flavored splat on the blue's tail as he gave it a playful smack.

Ew.

Wear your punishment proudly. I'll wash it off when we get home.

Home. Cavera and Aviforth had never made it back. Arlie and Alegriath would never see it again. T'rin sighed.

If this is going to keep happening, I'd prefer it happen to dragons I don't like.

T'rin had a passing thought that he should counter his dragon's harsh words, but frankly he felt the same.

If Fahn's green kills her, I'll...

What exactly will you do? They'll be gone. Despite the morbid subject matter, T'rin's mindvoice was amused. Ingonth's deliberate attempts at ferocity were always a little too whiny for him to take seriously.

Fine. I won't do anything, I guess.

There would be no saving them. Like his cousins, Fahn and her dragon would just be... gone. No daring rescues, no pleading into the void of between, no frostbite on his tongue, no heroic sacrifices. Nothing.

They would do nothing but mourn.