Zephy let out a low growl, practically squeezing her wings into her rib cage to make herself as small as possible. The trees were mere blurs of mahogany, cedar and pine as her pace turned into a full-out gallop. She barely registered a startled squirrel chattering angrily at her for disrupting the relative tranquility of the forest. He was going to be mighty surprised when a flurry of dragonets came charging through in another few moments.

Still, over her own labored breathing, she could hear footsteps behind her, desperately seeking to overtake her.

Grinding her teeth together until they practically sparked with anxiety, she closed her mind out to the noise. She had to win, one-hundred percent HAD to. 

Despite hatching in the same nest as her two sisters, Zephy was always thought of as the ‘youngest’ due to her smaller stature, barely being two-thirds the size of the next smallest dragonet of their hatching season. She was also the quietest, piping up when something piqued her interest but otherwise just stating background commentary to anything happening. 

Misty, on the other hand, was the leader–the one all the dragonets looked up to. She was kind, but strict, and definitely knew how to (gently) put someone in their place. With literal silver scales that sparkled as moonlight on water, she caught and kept the hearts of everyone who met her.

Seren was the curious dragonet that tested limits, the instigator, the one everyone pointed a claw at when something went wrong. Zephy was often concerned her sapphire-scaled sister got a little too much joy out of causing chaos, but her sense of humor and love for adventure meant she also had admirers lining up to get in on the next practical joke.

But this race would change everything…she hoped, anyway. She could be the smallest, quietest…and the quickest.

She didn’t have a shot of winning the flying race (Tornado had won so handily it couldn’t really even be called a race), and she couldn’t sniff out particular scents as well as most (Breeze had located all ten flowers before anyone else had managed to find four), but the forest run she could handle. Her smaller frame meant she could fit into tight spaces her other, larger competitors couldn’t.

However, they did still have longer legs, so it was more-or-less only a chance.

Zephy took a quick peek over each shoulder. Yet, despite knowing her pursuers were near, she failed to see silver or sapphire scales. Instead, the seemingly lonely trees met her gaze. 

Great. They were camouflaged, attempting to disorient her. This trick might work on a younger or more anxious dragonet, but Zephy had the power of observation on her side. Being quiet didn’t mean she wasn’t paying attention, after all, and over the seasons she’d learned a thing or two about watching everything and waiting for the right moment. Ironically, the only one who seemed to notice her silent observational skills was Mother (who seems to know everything that happens under the sun and stars, anyway, so it was debatable whether this even counted) so occasionally she could use them to her advantage.

Like right now.

She slipped through a tiny opening nearly invisible between two close-growing elms, barely keeping her lashing tail from catching on the lower branches. Not wanting to break stride, she dove into a rose bush instead of running around it. Screwing her eyes shut to keep from getting them scratched out, she charged straight ahead, hoping the bush wasn’t too large. The prickly thorns barely scratched her dappled golden-gray scales, though they did manage to rip out a few creamy feathers from her neck ruff. But her head-long rush took her straight through, her exit creating a literal explosion of twigs, leaves and petals.

But the shortcut hardly mattered as her pursuers came ever closer. Zephy could again feel the vibrations from their hammering footfalls…

Zephy burst into the sunlight in a flailing mess of wings, tail and still-running legs, rapidly blinking as the world turned sixty shades brighter. Only the cheering of the gathered dragons caused her to finally skid to a stop, eyes adjusting to the vibrant ceruleans, cobalts, silvers, goldenrods, smokey grays, daisy yellows and other brilliantly shining scales as they waved their enormous wings excitedly. Turning in a slow circle, Zephy found Misty and Seren had joined the group, their sides billowing like bellows as they attempted to catch their breath while simultaneously shouting congratulations. It took another moment for Zephy to realize her own lungs were heaving in and out at an alarming rate.

As other dragonets began exiting the forest in varied forms of disarray and exhaustion, they, too, joined in with the cheering. Voices began piping up as they asked each other about how they did or what they saw in the forest.

“Did you see that blueberry bush?!”

“No. Is that why you took forever? Eating blueberries?”

“Those trees are so close together, I had to keep circling to find a path!”

“Tell me about it! I tried hopping over a smaller pine tree and didn’t quite make it.”

“Ewww, you have sap all over your scales!”

“Who lost the fight with the rose bush?”

“Yeah, there were leaves and petals everywhere!”

“Nobody LOST the fight,” Seren roared, immediately getting everyone’s attention, “Zephy ran right through it! It was awesome! I wouldn’t chance to do it!”

“It really was quite a spectacle,” Misty added, voice tinged with wonder. “I’m just glad she didn’t get stuck.”

“Your winner of the forest run, Sonata Zephyr!”

And as they all cheered, Zephy felt as if the sun shone from the inside out.

She may be the quietest and smallest, but now she was the quickest…

And perhaps the most creative, too.