Ghost Rider

CHAPTER XI: The Chimera Berry Incident

We practiced putting our chosen saddles on our dragons over and over again until they were deemed perfect by our teacher.

"Again." She would state monotonously, time after time until it was flawless. Until the stripes were perfectly straight, and taut. Not too loose, not too tight. Until the saddle was perfectly aligned with our dragons' necks or backs(depending on the dragon). She would also make sure that the riding blanket that we put between our dragons' scales and the saddle wasn't wrinkled.

We always put a riding blanket under the saddle to prevent chaffing.

Anyway, it was a tough morning to say the least. And my day was far from over.

"Adequate." Mith finally uttered to me after inspecting my saddle work.

She may have said 'adequate', but I heard 'perfect'.

I was glowing with pride. A wide smile was uncontrollably plastered to my face.

My teacher just grunted and nonchalantly waved me off at the sight of my expression.

"Go over there and wait for the others to finish" she instructed.

Thor, Raeth sure was nicer. I lamented.

I trudged over to the spot that she had gestured to, and waited.

Then it dawns on me. I'm the first one here! I'm the first one to get a perfect saddle arrangement!

Now I was glowing even more with pride. I looked like a freaking Flightmare.

I shot Threk a smug look, as I saw him bent over, still working argorously with his saddle straps that were dangling around his emerald-colored monstrous nightmare's back.

He must have seen it because he rolled his eyes; but then he kinda smirked and shook his head. I wasn't really sure what that was about, but I shrugged it off.

   I had to wait a while before the other kids were finished with their endearing saddle work, as teacher Mith breathed over their shoulders.

Turns out she's a perfectionist. Hurray.

Threk finished second; which gave me an excellent opportunity to spew my hateful words onto him before the other kids got here.

"To you long enough." I retorted, not even looking into his deep blue eyes which had longing for friendship written all about them.

He didn't answer, but instead gazed dreamily into the distance, lost in the flood of thoughts that seemingly overwhelmed him.

"Did you ever notice that the leaves on the trees die, falling onto the lonely, cold earth and slowly rot away until there is no visible part left of them, just to give life to briars, and weeds that choke up and steal the life from the very tree that gave the leaves life in the first place?"

"W-What?" I queried, utterly confused about what Threk had just vocalized to me.

"Or do you suppose that the leaves find some sort of meaning in their pitiful death that perhaps, there may be one good plant. One beautiful flower that will be the sole light in this dying, frigid world being continuously suffocated by the grappling briars and weeds, trying to to snuff out any glimpse or hope of light; but yet, trying in vain because of that one, gorgeous little flower that thar dying, despairing leaf gave just enough life to survive this cruel and unforgiving world?"

What the heck if going on with him? I wonder in awe of his completely unusual behavior.

I decided to voice my confusion.