“Mother?” Strawberry asked, “Goose said you needed me?”

  “Oh, yes, yes,” exclaimed Queen Papaya, scrummaging through prophetic scrolls she forced RainWatcher to write—hiding it as “extra credit.”

  Her mother was duller than usual, color wise, but it is still shifting. Her body mainly stays as a purple and green, with the blubber flight thing is orange. Her horns were the blackest black ever. And her eyes shifted from gold to orange. I got her eyes.

  “So…What is it, Mother?” she put her talons together and hid herself into her wings. Sometimes it is hard when your mother is the queen of an entire tribe. I'm not ready to challenge her, ever. Even though I am almost seven years old.

  Queen Papaya shifted towards her daughter, and her own personal princess, “Would you like to help your father with getting the troops ready? Blueberry says the Darkest Night is tonight.”

  “Excuse me, what?!” Strawberry turned a mix of red and green, “What the actual hell do you mean tonight? Blue…Blueberry never told me! You never told me, Mother!”

  The queen turned more red than her princess had, “Princesses listen to their queens. Do you think I would have survived my mother if I had your attitude?”

  “But this is war! I do not care if you’re a queen! I’m scared, Mother, I am so, so, so, scared!” Strawberry cried, “Why do I have to help? I’m only six!”

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  Queen Papaya had towered over Strawberry with a strong glare and with enormous red fury, speaking through her teeth “You will challenge me and become queen very soon, Bear, so go to your father and help him with the fucking troops!”

  Strawberry started walking away, wanting to cry slightly, but her mother was right, she was going to be a queen. If she were to be queen, she would not be able to cry. She would have to be super strong.

  Walking along the bridges of the outdoor castle, the sun is about an hour to setting, so Strawberry had way too many things to deal with in such a short amount of time. The brown floor was still woopy.

  “Hello, Bear,” said a very familiar, deep, and comforting voice. Strawberry had turned around to see her father, King Loganberry.

  “Father!” she hopped up and hugged the king, “Mother said I had to help you assemble the troops to get ready for the NightWing attack.”

  Loganberry sighed, seemingly annoyed, as he turned into an orange color, “I told her not to get you involved, she knows that.”

  “But we got to get our important stuff done,” Strawberry said, spinning herself around as if something was trying to nip her tail.

  As they walked, the brown color of the king was beautiful in the sun. He looks like a MudWing, but his coloration is much more vibrant than one, a prettier MudWing. And he had brown eyes, unlike her mother.

  Once they made it to the Meeting Room, Strawberry could feel herself shaking and she turned green.

  “Welcome, King Loganberry, and Princess Strawberry,” Grapefruit, a rainbow colored dragon, and the head of the army, bowed, “May we get along with the meeting—preferably without the little verman with you?”

  “Bear is staying with me,” Loganberry said in a serious tone as I hid behind him, “Lets get on with it, General Grapefruit.”