She had always been afraid of being alone. When she was much, much younger, barely out of the egg, her father had punished her by making her sleep outside of their small house. At night. Alone. The sounds of the night had seemed so much louder, so much scarier as she lay shivering on the ground. All the nightmares of her own imagining had surrounded her, and finally she could take it no more and screamed-

-Jet startled awake, breathing quickly. She wasn't outside, surrounded by the night; she lay inside her house. The interior of the hut was rose-tinted with early morning light. She sighed, resting her delicate head back down on the soft floor. Nothing but a dream. Well, a memory. Nothing but a revisited memory. She closed her eyes, calming her breathing with an effort. That was not her any more. She was no longer the frightened hatchling of her youth. Pushing all the strange dream shards away, she sat up. The little hut felt shockingly empty without Ebony's comforting presence by her side. Ebony. Jet blinked a tear away and looked at the egg cuddled close to her. 

"You're all I have now, little one."

Jet bit her lip hard. She had two options. She could moan about her husband's absence, and be an absolute wreck when he came back, or she could take it quietly, and have no sorrow in her heart to take precedence over the joy when he returned. One was much harder than the other.

"It's the hard things in life that are the most worthwhile, sometimes, my love," she told the egg, taking comfort in its living presence.

"Jet? Is that you?" A black dragon shoved her head through the entrance veil. Jet looked up, shocked, her body instinctively curling around her egg to protect it. Then she relaxed. It was only Pitch, one of her friends.

Who else would it be in my house? Jet thought, but managed to smile. "Hello, Pitch, dear."

"I came to see how you were taking things," Pitch said, stepping in uninvited and settling down comfortably. The bluish-black dragon's eyes opened wide. "What a tragedy. Poor, dear Ebony. He looked so sad."

"Oh, were you there? I didn't see you in that crowd," Jet said.

Pitch nodded cheerfully. "Oh, yes, dear. I was there in the back. I felt simply terrible." Her words and eyes were empty of any real concern for the separated couple.

Jet closed her eyes, praying for patience. But when she reopened them, Pitch's good-humored, fat face was up in hers, and Jet found herself deep in a tight hug. "You poor darling," Pitch cried.

Jet couldn't stand it. She stared into her friend's eyes. "If you were there, and you felt bad for my husband, why didn't you say so? It was hard for him to go away thinking nobody cared." 

Pitch fiddled with the bracelet squeezing her plump wrist. "Well, darling," she drawled uncomfortably, "no one else said anything. I'm too shy to talk among so many."

Shy? Pitch? The dragon who loved to hold meetings and parties and get up and give speeches? Jet gnawed her already sore lip to keep cruel words back. She WOULD NOT hurt Pitch. Too late, she realized that her anger and pain were painted all over her face.

"What's the matter, dear?" Pitch asked anxiously.

Jet felt hysterics coming on. "Didn't you come here to console me for the exiling of my husband? I..I believe that counts as a matter."

"Oh, right." Pitch thought a moment, pressing Jet's claws in hers absently.

"Pitch, dear," Jet said gently, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I'm really disappointed you didn't have any support for Ebony. I was very disappointed in all of our friends. It hurt me quite deeply."

"O-oh, I-I'm very sorry you feel that way Jet but I have to go now," Pitch babbled in a single breath before dropping Jet's claws and darting out of the hut. After a few seconds, she poked her head back in, a smile on her face. "Feel better, dear," she cooed, then left.

Jet listened to her friend's retreating wings, angry, hurt, and bewildered. "Some comforting," she said to her one solace. A sudden flash of movement beneath the thin shell made her smile. At least somebody was listening to her.