A wyvern was walking slowly through the dark forest. He enjoyed the noises of the nature around him. He had no weapon, no signs of his hatred towards those "cursed dragons". Only sorrow. He laid down on a cold stone, took a plume, sheet of paper and started writing his letter slowly. He needed no other light than the moon hanging above him in this warm, summer night. No one would find him here. No one would look for him at this hour. He wanted to write. But he it was hard to find the words to express his sorrow and longing. It always was.
"The middle of night. Why aren't you at the distance of paw?" He whispered silently. "Why do we talk with letters?" The plume was moving slowly, disturbing the silence only a little. No one would hear. No one would mind.
"When I say it, we have a beautiful summer." The wyvern smiled sadly. "But when you read it, it will be the middle of winter." What kept him here, far away from his beloved? Duty. Duty the ones that had saved his life one day. He wished he wasn't obligated towards them. Or if he could at least pay them back in a different coin
Then, he noticed a simple drip of water falling on the sheet of paper, leaving a little, round stain. He smiled bitterly realizing that it was his own tear of longing.
"Why do I wake up in the middle of night? Why do I try to find your lips in the darkness?" He asked himself sorrowfully. There were no lips of hers in the darkness around him. She was far, far away. Beyond his reach. "All I have is a cold blade. And a reminiscence." He watched the starry sky with a dreamy sight.
"Maybe our paths will cross? Maybe you'll visit me?" He whispered hopefully, losing himself in his dreams. Then, a sudden, strong wind blown the letter from between his paws. It was floating slowly on the breath of the air, rising higher and higher, flying further and further. "The dawn's coming." He noticed with disbelief.
The snow was falling slowly on the gentle scales of young dragoness. The rays of the rising sun were melting it slowly, as she was sitting on the balcony of her house, watching the sky with the blind sight. By her paw, there was standing a half-full glass of water, deeply in her room, on the desk, laying a single sheet of paper. The letter from him. Nostalgia had poured in her heart deeply, overwhelming it completely. Or maybe was it melancholy? "The dawn coming. Maybe the dreams will fill? Will I see you?" She asked silently. She moved her paw gently turning the glass over. It rolled silently playing on stones a silent, shy anthem. "Cold water clears your thoughts." The azure dragoness sung silently. She fell the coldness overfilling not only her body, but also her mind. "And your letter reads itself again." It was still waiting for her in there. It wanted so much to be held once more and read for the hundredth time that night. The dragoness smiled slightly. She had already learnt it by heart. "We sing our anthem because it's the dawn." She whispered directly to him. Him, somewhere there, thousands kilometers away, but still, listening to her. "But silently, not to wake up anyone. Not to disturb them." In her voice, there could be heard so many feelings; sorrow, bitterness, impatience, joy, excitement. Love. The sun was rising higher and higher with every second. "The dawn." She acknowledged, feeling the pleasant warmth on her back. Almost as if he was there, by her side. "The dawn already came. Maybe dreams will come. Maybe we'll meet again."