As usual, Wrathion arose shortly after dawn and wandered downstairs to see what Tong had prepared for breakfast. The table was loaded with traditional fare this morning: an egg dish with bread, fruit and sausages on the side.

He sat down at his usual place and accepted a handful of mail from Left. Remembering Cybela's lectures, he ignored the bowl of fruit and started right in on one of the sausages. It was cooked, alas, but at least it was meat. As he ate he glanced through the papers.

A report from one of his agents in the Townlong Steppes... Status quo with both the yaungol and the mantid, it appeared. Fine.

A missive from an observer he had stationed in Silvermoon... You never knew what those clever blood elves were going to get into next.

A note from an operative in the Exodar... Yes, the Draenei were very aware of the continued threat of the Burning Legion. They would be an asset when the time came...

Wrathion picked up a pair of chopsticks with practiced ease and shoveled some of the eggs into his mouth while continuing to sort the mail.

A request from his agent in Booty Bay for more funds... There was plenty of information to be gathered there, but it never came cheaply when goblins were involved. Not a problem. His innate connection to the earth made it trivial to find more precious gems and ore.

A letter from an informant in Silithis... No signs of renewed activity from C'thun. Good, good. It never hurt to check.

"Something smells good," came a youthful female voice from the foot of the stairs.

Tong set out a second place at the Black Prince's table.

Cybela came up behind Wrathion and put her arms around his shoulders. "What are you reading?"

"I believe I warned you about snooping into my private correspondence," he said without looking up from his letter.

"I was just trying to make conversation. Yeesh." She went over to the other side of the table and sat down between Left and Right. The guards ignored her. She took a bite of the sausage first, just as he had. "Mmm, this is really good!"

Tong smiled and bowed from across the room.

"What is it?" She took another bite and chewed more slowly. "It's not fowl... Not pork... Definitely not fish..."

"It's mushan," Wrathion said absently, still perusing his mail.

"Those huge lizard things that roam the valley south of here?"

"Among other places."

"Whoa. Those guys are huge! I bet it takes a lot to bring one down." There was a wistful tone to her voice that Wrathion recognized. She, too, longed for the day when she would be strong enough to hunt like a true dragon.

"There is no shortage of champion hunters in Pandaria," he said before taking another bite of eggs. "Although, mushan are domesticated as beasts of burden more often than they are hunted for their meat. They may be more difficult to handle than the common yak, but their strength makes them prized draft animals. Fortunately the domestic variety lives for an average of one hundred years, and they never completely stop growing, so they're a worthwhile investment for most farmers. Skeletal similarities indicate they share a common ancestor with the kodo and thunder lizards of Kalimdor, though they lack the latter's ability to generate electrical charges. Considering the mogu penchant for weaponizing lightning, that's probably fortunate."

Cybela looked at him with a surprised expression. "Wow. I didn't ask for a complete natural history of the mushan, but thanks for the lesson."

"Well, I-" He felt his cheeks darken with embarrassment and took a drink of tea to help compose himself. "Knowledge is power."

She put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.

He scowled at her. "What's funny about that?"

"I'm sorry, it's just- I don't think knowledge about kodo skeletons is going to help defeat demons." She giggled.

"You never know what might come in handy," he said defensively.

"No, I suppose not." She took a sip of tea. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Fine," he said sharply, giving her a warning glare. Discussion of his illness in public was strictly prohibited.

Cybela rolled her eyes. "I was asking because I thought it might be a good day to go hunting together."

Wrathion froze with his teacup halfway to his mouth. "Oh?"

"The weather looks nice, and if you feel up to it..."

"I certainly do," he said indignantly.

She gave one of those beatific, compassionate smiles that always made him oddly uncomfortable. He wasn't used to dealing with someone who had no selfish, hidden motives. "I'm so glad."

He sniffed dismissively and focused on the letter in front of him.

"We don't have to go far," she continued. "Just a little outing to get some fresh air, exercise, and fresh meat." She held up one of the mushan sausages and raised an eyebrow. "Although I have to admit these are really tasty."

"Mmm, yes, well, I can't stay gone too long. There is still a backlog of correspondence to attend to and champions to meet."

"Of course," she said through a mouthful of food, then swallowed. "You probably won't have the energy for a long excursion, anyway."

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she again ignored his warning.

"So does your flight hunt with earth powers, somehow? Or just track, pounce, and kill?"

Wrathion stirred his tea, watching the swirling liquid instead of making eye contact. "I wouldn't know. The only member of my flight I ever hunted with refused to leave human form. Besides, it's been ten millenia since black dragons had full control of their powers over the earth element. Any traditional methods they might have had are lost to the ages."

"Oh. Right." Her voice sounded so sad that he was glad he wasn't looking at her to see the pity in her golden eyes. "Well, I can teach you how the reds do it."

"Not necessary," he said airily. "I am perfectly capable of bringing down prey when I must."

"We'll see..."

The challenge in her voice made him finally look up, and he met her expectant smirk with a sneer. "Yes, we will. Left, Right, make sure I have no appointments in the early afternoon. Your services will not be required while Cybelastrasza and I are on our...errand."

Noon brought a crowd of adventurers into the Tavern in the Mists, both for lunch and to meet with the Black Prince. Tong was happy to accommodate them with a meal, but a certain black dragon was nowhere to be found.

"What a beautiful day!" Cybela gushed as they flew up the hill toward Mason's Folly. "Not too hot, not too cold, sun shining...just perfect!"

Wrathion said nothing, letting her ramble while he conserved his strength for flying. He felt fine at the moment but was determined to keep it that way. When they reached the top of the slope he fluttered down to land on the stone railing.

She plopped down beside him. "Oh, what a view!" she gasped.

"This is my favorite spot in all of Pandaria," he said grandly. "I come here often to think and get away from the hustle and bustle of the tavern."

"I can see why. It's gorgeous! Look at all the greenery! And isn't it amazing how trees manage to take root even way high up on those pillars of rock?"

He tilted his head in thought. "Yes, I suppose it is. I've always been more interested in how those pillars were formed in the first place. Was it natural erosion, or some of my dear father's ancient handiwork?"

Cybela smiled and shook her head. "Figures. I'm a red dragon so I see the life; you're a black dragon so you see the earth."

He blinked. "I see the life, too. It's all connected, after all."

She looked relieved to hear him say this. "Yes, it is." She leaned forward to nuzzle her nose affectionately against his cheek, then sprang into the air again. "Last one to the river's a stinky saurok!" With that she dived straight down.

It took Wrathion a moment to understand what she meant. Then he launched himself off the railing and plummeted downward. The rocky face of the cliff was a blur as they shot downward like two arrows, angling their trajectory out from the wall to aim for the nearby river. The blue ribbon of water below grew larger and larger, and the details of the current and the reeds along the riverbank became visible.

Despite his best efforts, she had a head start on him, and he saw her stretch out her wings to slow her descent mere feet above the water's surface, then alight gracefully on a rock sticking out of the river. He arrived a moment later, purposely landing with as big a splash as possible. Cybela spluttered and wiped water out of her eyes.

"That was hardly fair, you know," he said, paddling toward her like a scaly dog. "You can't just announce a race and then start it before the other participant is ready."

"Where is that written?"

"It... It's common sense, and common courtesy!"

"Wait, which one of us is the black dragon again?" she asked cheekily.

"I beg your pardon! Just what are you implying?"

She opened her mouth as if to answer, then suddenly dived in front of him, sending a wave of water into his face.

It was war, then. The two whelps beat the water into a white froth as they used wings, paws and tails to splash each other mercilessly. Wrathion found himself making sounds he couldn't recall ever making before, copying the playful growls, squeaks and chirps that Cybela made. He chased her in circles around the rock, and she submerged herself to escape. He whirled around to look for her just in time to get smacked with another wall of water as she sprang up behind him. He managed to grab a hold of her briefly but she twisted out of his grasp and splashed him with her feet as she kicked off to swim away.

"Come back here!" he snarled with mock severity, paddling after her as fast as he could.

She shrieked and made a sudden turn to the left, attempting to avoid his latest splash, but he was too quick and managed to both douse her again and close the distance between them. He pounced on her with what was intended to be a fearsome roar, and they both went under for a moment.

When they resurfaced, Wrathion had a silvery fish crossways in his mouth. He nearly crossed his eyes looking at it in surprise, and Cybela burst out laughing.

"All right, you win!" she gasped through her giggles. They swam over to where a rock-strewn beach separated the river from the Jade Forest.

He bit the fish in half and offered the smaller of the two parts to her.

"Oh, thank you, my prince," she said, approximating a curtsey with her wings.

They were both so out of breath that it was a few minutes later before either one could eat. They sat on the gravel, panting and laughing and wiping water out of their eyes. When they had calmed down a bit and eaten their snack, Cybela leaned over and brushed a fish scale off his cheek.

"I'm proud of you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"From what you'd said before, I wasn't sure you knew how to play with a whelp your own age. I guess it's instinct."

"I'm a very fast learner," he said with a haughty sniff.

She stood up. "Still up for some hunting?"

"Of course," he said, although he hadn't quite gotten his breathing back to normal yet.

"There should be beavers further upstream."

He grimaced. "Beavers are similar to otters. Remember what happened the last time I ate a semi-aquatic mammal?"

"Yes, but you were still adjusting to the proper diet then. It should be fine, now."

He hesitated, but she was already flying away, so he shook the last drops of water off his wings and followed.

Cybela glanced back and saw him behind her. Without warning, she veered to the right and disappeared behind a gnarled tree.

Curious, he did the same. As he came around the side of the tree, a red streak shot out and bowled him over, and he tumbled back into a pile of ferns with a startled screech.

"Gotcha," Cybela cried before continuing on up the riverbank.

"Honestly!" he huffed, hurrying to catch up with the giggling whelp. "For as much time as you spent nursing me back to health, you seem quite determined to give me fresh bruises."

She stopped and let him catch up to her, grinning mischieveously. "Nothing's stopping you from fighting back, Your Majesty." There was a hint of mocking in the way she said his title. "Playing at fighting and hunting are perfectly normal behaviors for dragons our age, you know."

He didn't really know, of course, which fueled his irritation. "I already know how to fight. I've been trained in polearms, daggers, swords, axes-"

He was interrupted by Cybela launching herself at him again, and they rolled over and over until they bumped into a fallen tree trunk.

"Stop that!" he snapped.

"Make me!"

A growl grew from deep in his throat and burst out with a mouthful of flames. She lunged to the side barely in time to avoid being scorched.

"Hey! Don't!" she cried. "No fire!"

"Oh, suddenly there are rules?" he said with a sneer. He launched himself at her with teeth bared, and she scrambled out of the way.

"Not rules, exactly, just-" She zig-zagged through the trees as he chased her. "We're supposed to be practicing- Ow!" A chuff of flame singed her tail, and she tumbled onto the ground with a cry of surprised pain.

He swooped down to continue his attack, but the look of genuine fear on her face stopped him in his tracks.

"Stop!" Cybela clutched her tail, which was streaked with black soot and sported a patch of much darker red than the surrounding scales. "You're not supposed to actually hurt me!" she said angrily.

Wrathion landed in front of her with a confused frown. "You told me to fight back."

She inspected the damage to her tail and winced. "Yeah, but it was playing. It's supposed to be all pouncing and nipping, not...that!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" he snapped.

Her expression softened, and she sighed. "You're right. I shouldn't have assumed... I mean, considering... You're still learning." She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. Golden light coalesced around her paws and spread to her injured tail. Tiny vines sprouted from the ground around her, bright yellow flowers unfurling and then fading as she channeled a healing spell. The red welt grew less pronounced with each passing second, and when she stopped casting only a smear of ash remained.

Wrathion stood and watched in silence, scowling at the unwelcome lump of guilt in his chest. It wasn't his fault, he told himself. How was he supposed to know how this "playing" thing worked? Fahrad certainly never taught him, and he'd never had contact with a fellow whelp before. No matter how many excuses he thought up, however, he still felt just as ashamed for hurting her.

When she had completed her healing and sighed in visible relief, he offered a paw to help her to her feet.

"Cybela, I... I'm sorry," he said quietly. "This is all new to me, and although I can explain exactly how Thoradin's Wall was constructed, or recite the lineage of all the noble houses of Quel'thalas...I'm afraid this sort of thing isn't in my knowledge base."

She regarded him with quiet amusement and just a hint of pity before putting her arms around him and drawing him in for an embrace. "It's all right, Wrathion. I understand." She patted his back, as if he were the one who had been injured.

Her selfless compassion made him cough awkwardly and draw away. "If you're sufficiently recovered, we can, er, resume the hunt."

"Of course. This way." She led him back toward the river and upstream, and he followed with less enthusiasm than before.

Plump beavers chased fish and busied themselves gathering sticks just below a small waterfall. Cybela and Wrathion perched high in a tree where they had a good vantagepoint to watch them.

"They're awfully quick in the water," he observed.

Cybela nodded. "You have to be really fast. If they get into the water, there's no catching them. The trick is to find one who's far enough on land."

"Like that one?" He pointed to a large specimen sunning itself on a flat rock that was closer to the cliff than the waterfall.

"Just like that one," she said with a grin. "Good eye."

He puffed himself up proudly.

"It's a little big to take on by myself, and those huge teeth can be very dangerous, but since there are two of us..." They shared a devious wink.

As quietly as possible, they flew up and around to approach their prey from downwind.

"I'll go for the neck. You try for the back legs. Remember, we have to stop it from getting to the water, or it's game over."

Wrathion nodded, not even caring that she was giving him orders. He deferred to her experience in this case.

"On three," she murmured. "One... Two... Three!"

They tucked in their wings and rocketed downward, landing simultaneously on the beaver's back. Wrathion first got a mouthful of furry haunch, missing the leg as the beast whacked him with its paddle-like tail. Cybela struck true on the first try, however, and locked her teeth into the animal's neck. By the time Wrathion had one rear limb mangled beyond use, she had neatly severed the carotid artery, and the rock beneath turned dark red with the surge of blood.

The other beavers scattered into the water with terrified screeches.

Powerful instincts flooded Wrathion's brain at the smell, and he tore into the carcass in a frenzy, slicing through layers of fur and fat to get at the choicest bits of meat. Cybela showed him where the best parts were, graciously allowing him to have both the heart and liver.

"You sure?" he said through a mouth so full he could hardly chew.

"Yes," she said with a laugh. "You still need to be fattened up a bit." She poked him in the ribs and he gave her a disgusted look but continued stuffing food into his face. "Just don't eat so fast."

Remembering only too well the terrible stomachache he had after eating the otter, he took her advice and slowed down.

They took their time devouring their meal, cracking open bones to slurp out the marrow, chatting, and enjoying the warm sunshine that baked down on the rock.

"I still don't know why my mother chose a goblin as her last mortal form," Cybela said. "It must simply have been a matter of fitting in with the rest of the people at Fuselight, because from everything I know about her she wasn't the greedy, conniving type."

"Thankfully she did not use explosives in any of her experiments on my siblings and me," he said wryly. "Unlike a true goblin."

Cybela laughed. "Yes, that's definitely a good thing."

Wrathion opened his mouth to make another comment, but instead of words a thunderous belch came out. He froze with a horrified expression, eyes wide.

Cybela looked at him for a moment before giggling uncontrollably.

"P-pardon me," he stammered.

His companion inhaled through her mouth and replied with a burp that was nearly as loud, if not quite as long.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then both began laughing. Something about the crudeness of it all made it even funnier than it should have been, and Wrathion found himself wiping tears off his cheeks as he shook with unrestrained laughter.

When they were both full and a bit more composed, they took a brief dip in the river to rinse off the blood. Cybela resisted the urge to renew their splashing war, as she could tell Wrathion was getting tired. She let him set the pace as they flew back up the cliff toward Mason's Folly. Without asking if he needed to rest, she landed on the railing and admired the view while he caught his breath. At last they made their way back toward the tavern.

A line of champions stretched out the front door and almost to the road. The two whelps stopped at the sight and hovered high enough up a tree to avoid being seen.

"Oh," he said with a guilty slouch. "And now you know why I don't take the time to go off hunting on my own."

"You're an awfully popular dragon," she said.

He sighed. "Duty calls."

"You look exhausted," she finally dared to say. "You need to rest before launching back into all that."

"I shouldn't keep them waiting," he said reluctantly. "There could be important news."

"It's probably just more armloads of mogu knicknacks," she sniffed. "They'll keep."

He hesitated.

"Come on, sneak in an upstairs window. They won't notice. You'll feel better after a nap."

He frowned. "May I vehemently state for the record that I am thoroughly fed up with being so damned weak?"

"You may, but you're not weak. You're recovering. This was your first outing since your illness. Don't be too hard on yourself."

It was becoming difficult for him to keep flapping his wings fast enough to hover there, and he hung his head in defeat. "Very well. I'll neglect my duties long enough for a short nap. There's just one problem."

"Oh?"

"The window to my room is always locked for security reasons."

"So we'll go through another one."

Unable to find anything wrong with that plan, he followed her around the back of the tavern, where there were fewer people milling about. Cybela zipped in the first open window she saw.

"Wait, I think that's- Oh, for the love of Khaz'goroth," he grumbled when she did not listen. He heard a surprised cry from inside and came through the window to see Cybela perched on the edge of the table where the Crown Prince of Stormwind was sitting with a quill and stationery. A splotch of ink on the paper was evidence of his reaction to suddenly having a dragon fly into his room.

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty, I didn't know this was your room," she was saying.

"It's quite all right," Anduin said with a laugh. "I just wasn't expecting a whelp to fly through my window."

"Two, actually," Wrathion said in as haughty a tone as he could muster, landing beside her.

"You look really tried."

"Will everyone stop saying that?" Wrathion bared his teeth and fluffed up his wings.

"We've just been out hunting," Cybela said.

"Oh? How did that go?"

"Splendid, if a bit...enervating," Wrathion said airily.

"He needs a nap before he faces all those champions lined up downstairs," Cybela added.

"Ah," Anduin said, nodding with understanding. "Well, go ahead. I'm just writing a letter to Velen, so I'll be quiet."

"Not here," Wrathion said, rolling his eyes. "My window is locked, so we had to...find an alternate route."

"I see." Anduin gave an amused grin. "Well, carry on, then."

Cybela shifted back into a red-haired elf, picked up Wrathion, and went to the door. "Sorry again for barging in on you like that, Prince Anduin."

"It's fine," the human said with a gracious smile. "Have a good nap."

Wrathion snorted but did not attempt to shift into a human. He told himself it was to remain less conspicuous in case they met someone in the hallway, but in reality his energy reserves were so depleted that he could barely hold his head up. Cybela gave a greeting nod to the Blacktalon sentry outside the royal bedroom and slipped inside. She set the black whelp down on the futon and tucked a blanket around him.

"Wake me in a half hour," Wrathion mumbled, no longer fighting to keep his eyes open.

Cybela grabbed a book and stretched out on the futon between the prince and the wall. She sat back against a stack of pillows and began to read.

Already more asleep than awake, Wrathion instinctively edged toward her body heat. She noticed with a smile and put one hand over his back. He gave a contented sigh and was soon snoring.