"There's something rather funny," Aimé said, as he hopped down from one floating island to the rocky side of another, "a few months ago Zolkanis was begging for aid in removing the wyverns from their cities--" another leap onto a more stable ledge, and he grunted with the force of his landing. "Now, they ask strangers to approach the nests, place pesticide, and escape with their lives intact."

Lancelot slid down after the ryno, bending and weaving along the stone after him as if he were made of water, rather than flesh and sinew and bone. "Both tasks are necessary." he dropped beside his love and peered down to their target: a particularly difficult to reach nest. The wyvern within it scratched at herself and rotated her eggs. Even this far above, the dark blotches of the so called 'mites' were visible against her green feathers. "Nest mites take more blood from chicks than chicks have to spare, and even if the chicks survive the parasites... they cannot survive the infections and disease the mites bring."

———

"I mean, is there really a contradiction there? Wyverns are absolutely beautiful and vital creatures and they should not be in cities." Daylight bounded from foothold to foothold as easily as a mountain goat. "It's all about balance. Even the mites have their role, but right now there's too many of them."

"Don't they have people who are trained to do this?" Havarl grumbled, holding up the rear. His approach was much more direct than that of the lithe, fey creatures he was accompanying -- simply digging his claws into the rough rock to find (or make) whatever footholds he needs. "I'm always glad to lend a hand, but I know very little about handling wyverns."

———

Lancelot hesitated on his perch, inspecting the cliffs leading down to the nest. Smooth, wind and water worn. It was not difficult to see why the wyverns chose such a perch. "I am certain they have professionals, however the mite epidemic is severe. It is... very likely what drove the wyverns to the cities to begin with." he mused. "Your highness, you still carry the trap, aye?"

"I think only Daylight could climb the footholds down there." Aimé noted. "And Havarl, if you think you can claw your way that far. We'll have to Rift--and that will disturb the dam."

"We could lure her up," Lancelot settled back, "so the dashing prince and delightful sunbeam can place the mite trap and inspect the eggs. Our Talik would aid us."

———

"In here." Havarl gestured to a pouch attached to his armor. "If I put too many holes in the cliff, it'll definitely disturb them. Luring them off might be the best route."

"Just be careful, all right?" Daylight looked back over at Aimé and Lancelot. "I want to make sure you'll be back here safe and sound and paying me more of those wonderful compliments of yours." he purred.

———

"Ah, darling sunlight, I would make the same request of you." Lancelot laughed and flicked his tail. "Survive your trek so that I may gaze upon your beauty again."

Aimé shoved his shoulder, a warm smile on doggish lips. "Karu, please, save your liaisons for later when we are not on the job. You'll have plenty of time to flirt later, when we have evaded the Wyvern." He rasped his tongue across Lancelot's frill, and stepped back, nodding. "Lancelot and I will Rift down there, and open a second Rift to lure the wyvern through. You two use the first rift to follow us once the nest is clear."

———

Havarl blinked at the flirting between Daylight and the Fae prince, tilting his head slightly in bafflement. A moment of confusion later, he shook his head and decided to focus on things that made more sense-- like wyverns. "And what exactly do you plan to do once you have an angry wyvern on your tail, trying to chase you away from its nest and slash or feeding you to its pups?"

"Presumably trying NOT to get turned into wyvern food?" Daylight purred. "Don't worry. These two are as good at getting themselves out of trouble as they are getting into it."

———

"I assure you, your highness..." Lancelot stood tall, a lightness in his chest as he boasted, "I am very near as swift as wind itself. And Aimé'i has just as much strenth as speed as you." Lightning sparked across his fur, and in a flash of vivid floral hues, a swirling portal of Talik burst into light. "Be swift, my friends. We shall see each other soon. Aimé?"

His love bowed his head to the others.
The other end of the portal erupted into existence on the wyvern's ledge, and a startled screech overpowered the rush of wind and water.
As one, Lancelot and Aimé dove into their Rift, dashed around either side of the nest, each swatting at the mite infested wyvern to get her attention, and leaped again--down into open air with the wyvern on their tails, into a third rift in vivid blues that swelled to engulf their pursuer as well.