WOF Trial Of The Thieves

Beams of sun plunged through the net of clouds, hitting a young Keywing in the face. Lock-Pick got to his feet and used his wings to block the horrendous rays from scorching his eyes. Blue-metallic scales radiated heat as he rubbed his eyes finally awake. 'Yeah alright, I'm up,' he thought as he cursed the sun and held clenched talons to it. The dragon hurriedly got his parcel pouch on and made his way out of his home. 

Lock-Pick was one of the youngest members of the delivery service and granted, he hated it. Not only was he shy, but he REALLY despised some of his fellow colleagues that would pull stunts on him often. There was a time where two others had stuffed his bag full of mice which, to his dismay, ate through the bag. Lock-Pick sided near the front of the post station, which was marked gorgeously with large stone walls and candles to light the inner bearings. He often wondered how dragons built such a building without throwing their backs out. All he knew was that he was glad he wasn't one of them. 

A sharp silver Keywing made her way before Lock-Pick and the other dragons within the center. Her dusky-red eyes scanned over the multitude of dragons and with a snort of approval she raised a wing. As fast as the signal was given, the dragons dashed and grabbed their parcels, all but Lock-Pick who had to wait for an opening. Sometimes he felt like this was slave labor, after all he was still starving with the ridiculous pay that this job provided. Once he grabbed his parcels he made his way past the others and looked off a dip of cliff. His job had begun.

Countless hours and deliveries went by and it was finally time for lunch. Lock-Pick did not join the others back at the station, alas he sat upon his favorite ledge. He often enjoyed the sight of the setting sun from this perch, he wished dearly that others would enjoy it too. Buried in his thought he had not realized that someone was beside him. Lock-Pick yelped and almost threw his deer that he had been eating off the ledge. The strange dragon had noticed his panic and tried to reassure him by putting her talons up. She was a golden Keywing with darker portions that reminded him of rust, her eyes blue with green spots within them. 

"Sorry!" The dragon put her talons down, "I didn't notice you already took this spot."

"Its okay I just... wasn't expecting any others to join me?" Lock-Pick mumbled out like a lost horse. The dragon felt embarrassed for freaking out in front of her, he felt like a complete fool.

"I'm Cymbal," She offered out a talon to which Lock-Pick shyly accepted.

"Lock-Pick, but you can call me Lock."

The two dragons sat there together before Lock-Pick felt rude and handed a portion of his catch. "Here, you can have this," he offered a talon full, "I don't eat that much." A small smile pierced the looks of Cymbal, she found it funny that a Dragon as such would share at all. She laughed and took the morsel. "What's so funny?" Lock-Pick's brow furrowed in absolute confusion.

"It's a secret, I can’t tell you."

"I'm willing to keep a secret."