Qibli liked to consider himself a pragmatic dragon.
He didn't dwell on ideals, or what could or should have been, only focusing on results.
Like when he was one, and starving, and he was just about to eat a lizard he caught when Sirocco shoved him over and demanded that he share it with him.
He knew his brother would've hurt him if he didn't, so he cut the lizard in half and gave a piece, even though he knew half a lizard wouldn't do much to curb his own hunger.
Like when he was three, and an assassin attempted to murder Thorn, his leader, so he leaped in front of the blade that was meant for her, and crumpled to the ground as blood poured out of the wound that was created.
That was a fond memory. Thorn was so mad, so furious, that Qibli would even consider doing such a stupid, moronic, brain-dead thing.
But Qibli didn't care. Thorn was alive, and uninjured. That was all that mattered to him.
Like when he was five, and Qibli finally mustered the courage to confess to Moon, the beautiful Nightwing he was in love with.
He had bought a gift, a quartz ring that perfectly complimented her dark, shimmering scales. He had planned to give it to her as he confessed, as a show of love.
He had it all planned out, so you can imagine how he felt when he peered into Moon's cave, and saw a certain Icewing already in the room, talking to her.
And then Moon was giggling at something he said, and Qibli's
heart
dropped
as she leaned into Winter, blushing as she rested her head against the Icewing's neck, twining their tails together.
Qibli didn't know how long he stood there in shock. Only that he managed to recover after a while, and quickly run back to his cave.
The cave he shared with Winter.
Qibli did a lot of thinking.
Winter needed Moon more than he did, he reasoned. He had more issues, more problems. He needed someone to lean on more than Qibli did.
So by the time the Icewing returned, Qibli was back to normal. He greeted his friend like he always did, he teased him, and he cracked jokes.
Qibli didn't dwell on what could or should have been. Moon was better off with Winter than him, and that was all that mattered.
Qibli ignored the way his heart twisted whenever he saw Winter and Moon together. Whenever they flirted, or twined their tails, or he wrapped his wings around her, or they kissed.
He ignored it.
After all, Qibli liked to consider himself a pragmatic dragon.
He would get over it.
