Dragonroost Isle rose out of the sea as a living volcano, sleeping, but with a fire in it's belly that warmed the rock-hewn nesting caverns of the Rito no matter the weather. A true island paradise for an airborne people, all spires, stone and strong prevailing winds, hot thermals rising off the deep-heated rock that made flying a pleasure. Palm
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Samus had somehow found her way to his room. She wasn't entirely sure how, but she got lucky and found him early on in her search. Her nightmare had worried her more than she cared to admit, and she wanted to see him. She wanted to make sure he was okay.
"I've been looking for you," her voice was a mixture of things. Relief that she had found him, genuine concern about his well-being, and a hint of an almost apologetic tone. She was shaken by the events that had occurred in her nightmare, so she couldn't imagine how Komali felt.
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"I had a bad dream," He explained, and sniffed again with eyes that were puffy and bloodshot, "I don't like it."
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And more often than she cared to admit, but the more recent ones had been particularly striking.
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"At home, a dragon lives on top of the mountain. I'm supposed to climb up an' face him, but..." A soft sniff, the last of them as he trailed off, looking at his feet. It was so very quiet.
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"Sometimes we have to face our fears. It's very difficult, though."
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"I thought you weren't scared of anything."
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Like in her nightmares.
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He hopped up- literally hopped, because the bed was taller than his legs were long, and put both hands on Samus' knees, looking up at her happily, "Hey, do you want to see the island? This is my island, where all the Rito live!"
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He showed her the bomb-flowers, and told the story of the time the pirates had shown up and scowled at them, but hadn't dared lay a hand on a single feather because of they knew Lord Valoo would roast them if they did.
"...After that we didn't see any boats for a long time," He finished. They were standing on the sand, looking out at the ocean and the simulated horizon, "Quill told me that the islands had all got together and promised to protect us, because we're the only ones who can carry the mail."
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"It's very peaceful," she stated simply when he was done, "It must be nice to live here."
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Little Komali never knew the role his people had as guardians as well as messengers. They were not the the warrior Chozo, but descended from the reticent Zora, who lived apart and guarded deep secrets and places of power.
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