"Alright, alright," Kaya conceded to Eta's grumpy outbursts. Though it wasn't clear if she'd run out of clever things to say to the Kaadir trainer, or if she was just laughing too much to get anything else out! In fact, Kaya was still so overtaken - shaking! - with laughter, that it took her a moment to do anything.
"Okay, okay, I'm going, Miss Grumpy Guss," he said, wiping tears from her eyes. Unlike Eta, Kaya wasn't keeping tags on 'who got in the last jab.' The thought hadn't even occurred to her. So she didn't worry about not saying anything more 'clever' than 'Miss Grumpy Guss.' She started to totter away, still laughing, but paused to throw Eta a broad, confident grin over her shoulder, laughter finally mostly out of her voice, "But if you want to see something with more than just a 'sunny disposition,' I exhibition my work at two, near the palm gardens. If, you know," she started laughing again, "you get sick of your 'grown up' work."
Then off Kaya went, ribs still shaking with laughter.
When the time she'd told Eta was rolling around, Kaya was nearly tripping over herself with excitement. And another feeling that she couldn't identify - because she didn't want to admit it - that was actually nervousness. It wasn't just that this was her first show, but this was the first year they had been invited to show Sirrush alongside the Kaadir. As though a Kaadir could compare to a Sirrush! Myshhusu looked his best, though. The golden-scaled Sirrush stood a little taller than a horse at the shoulder with a powerful, sinewy body, eagle-taloned feet, a swishing lion-like tail, and a long, graceful neck with a serpentine head. The creature had both plain, curving horns coming from the back of its head and, more precious, a unicorn-like horn from its forehead. And, like a unicorn, that's where its magic lay. Myshhusu's golden eyes were bright and intelligent, and blinked at Kaya. Whereas the Awali was getting increasingly active in her excitementnervousness, the Sirrush was utterly serene.
"Alright, I suppose you're looking good enough," Kaya said to the creature, even though she thought he looked fabulous. They both knew it.
And better yet.
From behind Myshhusu, another Sirrush stepped out into the palm garden. This one was smaller, half the size of the first; still a juvenile. It looked almost identical in many ways, save its size and its scales, which were a shimmering opal. The bigger difference between the two, however, more obvious than the color and the size, was that this Sirrush had wings. Pearly white and opalescent like its scales, it was the only winged Sirrush at the exhibition. And Kaya had bread him. This was Pyhhron. Myshhusu's son, from Kaya's first round of hatchlings. Winged Sirrush were extremely rare, a recessive trait that could hide in a blood line for generations. And Kaya had bred the first they'd seen in years! Even her aunt Kheema, her tribe's most famous breeder of Sirrush and Kaadir, had never bred a winged Sirrush.
And now was Kaya's time to show him off!