Veering towards her lair, Slygotha's wings strummed the air, whirring like an overclocked albatross attempting to take off from the ground. Being already massive without her cargo, the added weight strained her to the limit of her flying capacity, but she was already aware of this. She was the only dragon that she knew of in her own territory, unless some younger upstart had taken up residence along the border, or a haughty Green dragon wanted to challenge her in a territory dispute. She did not really worry about these things. They would happen, or not. Logic dictates that the chances of something happening versus not happening depended on infinite probability, so dwelling on such things only brings a headache. She gripped the carcass tightly, as a chunk of rotting tail slipped off the bone, hitting the beach with a sickening thud. Cursing under her breath, Slygotha rose completely clear of the canopy and strained to maintain her place in the sky, beating at the atmosphere with her leathery wings. Her continuous wing movement caused massive winds just below her, making the trees bend over slightly, yielding, and the smaller flora and fauna quaking in distress with her overhead passing. She wondered if her mate was still alive or not, since black dragons did not den together, even as mates, and maintained separate territories.
( I have a kelpie, she could see and meet your dragon. I have a male fire dragon, but I don't think that would go well. Since she has her eggs.)
