Cold. Cold and damp was all that Taraah could feel. The weather chose to make her punishment even worse. In the city below her was where the human sacrifices would be gathered once they arrived from their lands. Each year, few of them were always picked to be paired with a dragon, while the rest was... disposed of. The selected ones were trained to become peacekeepers of the land, or so the humans were told. The dragoness didn't think it cruel. The humans did the same with their herd animals, theirs just didn't talk or fight back. What was unfathomable to her was why she was here. She despised the little fleshbags. Their kind was pathetically frail and immature. Why would father think sticking one on her would be good for her?
---
Earlier...
[i]Her life as a Red was so far all she could ask for. As a very miltaristic flight, the Reds were all serving in some capacity, from nurses to generals. Relatively young as she was but with high ranking father, Taraah was currently assigned to patrolling borders between Red and Black dragonflight, due to her knowledge of Blacks' tactics. There was only one hitch: She couldn't stand to work with idiots and weaklings, and she often did more damage to her own troops during drills than the enemy would in battle.

As such, she currently found herself in her father's presence, being - as she expected - scowled on and at least in her mind demoted, even though in proper terminology she would rank up higher should she succeed. "No! Father! You can't do this to me!" she pleaded, but knew the expression on his face. "You have a problem, Taraah. Your habit of decimating troops in drills is frankly not only annoying but also costly in the medical department. Eight cases of broken limbs, and over twenty reported with complete exhaustion, and who knows how many are still trying to tough it out." he said, adjusting the glasses on his snout as he read through the report.

"You need to learn that you can not make people on par with you, learn to work with what you have, and above all else, learn to give respect where it's required, because despite your belief, miss, respect is not only earned. Sometimes, people are simply made better than you. You will volunteer for this or be assigned one of the worst posts imaginable. Your pick." He finished, picking up a different report and delving into it. "But a flesh bag? What can possibly be worse?!" She whined, but the look on Tereus's face told her she didn't want to know. Letting out an angered growl, she paced across the room for a while, before letting out a heavy sigh. "Fine."[/i]
---
The miserable-o-meter had officially hit it's peak. Roaring in frustration, Taraah took off, seeking refuge from the rain above the clouds. That way she would only be cold. After an hour of flight though, when the clouds dispersed and she could see the ground, she found out that misery loves company. Below her was a group of humans struggling in the mud. There weren't enough for them to be the sacrifices, and it was too soon. With a roaring laughter, Taraah swooped down to make easy prey of the fools that dared trespass into their territory. On her first pass, she only scared them. Most of them took off to the nearest cover, but none made it before they were incinerated in a white hot burst of flames.

Something else caught Taraah's attention though. One of them didn't run. In fact, thing looked like it was challenging her. Making one more turn, she landed and jumped the rest of the distance, stopping just short of hitting the human, eyes locked with hers, claws hovering above it's cheek. It was a runt! A mere child, barely hatched. And just for a second, Taraah could feel something close to admiration, although she'd never admit it even to herself. There was something in this one the others lacked. This one had [i]fire[/i]. Was this the one she was looking for?