Mary
The wisps of a night breeze comforted his shaky talons during his prowl among the small village, sticking to the sharp shadows the buildings casted, the glow of the moons soft and pearly. A dragonet, with no intention of being seen had his nose as a guide, trying to seek any scraps one would misplace, wrinkling his snout as thirst still acquainted his hunger. 

Earlier, when the moons weren't as high, he gently put pressure on ice, cracks scattering across the thin surface, he then kneeling down to drink. Yet, as evident now, it hadn't been enough. 

Forever grateful for the night's closure, he boldly stepped onto the cobblestone centre, feeling once again what it was like to live as one instead of individuals. Dread filled his stomach, all too soon the togetherness claustrophobic, hasty talons drawn to the shadows, eyes glancing back, expression mixed.
Bette
*Snowstorm stepped out from the home that was quickly becoming more familiar to her than the palace itself. Breathing in the crisp air of the night, she was set to return, but before she could unfurl her wings to fly, she caught a glimpse of the figure retreating into the shadows, just at the edge of her perception. Considering the possibility of a thief, she followed, but she was hardly subtle about it.*

*He would doubtlessly be able to see the imposing figure of the General as he looked back, with her looking in his direction. She wasn't quite perfect with her night vision, unlike the nighttime guards, but she was quite determined.*
Mary
His heart pounded against his chest as a large IceWing seemed to glare in his direction, disregarding the faint thirst on his tongue and the emptiness of his stomach. Carelessly, his claws clicked on the cobblestone as he moved back- something he didn't register until the sound reached his ears- and he scolded himself for being so stupid. This is how he would be found out; and eventually forgotten. He didn't dare doubt the strength of the IceWing before him, wishing his scales were as dark as a NightWing's, helpless to blend in with the darkness.

Found, tortured and broadcasted for the world to view, shunned for what he did. He couldn't open his wings which were tight to his back, almost as if they were tied together with a thick, gnarly rope.
Bette
*The clicking of claws on stone made it relatively easy to follow, even through any turns, but the lack of flight told her there were a few possibilities for who the dragon was and why they were skulking around, and running at the first sight of her. Her mentor's lesson about not judging sprung into her mind though, and she sighed to herself as she followed.*

*Knowing the streets of the village made it somewhat easy to follow along, and it was only a matter of time before they made it to a clearing, or a dead end, then she'll get answers. She gave a huff of cold air from her nostrils, the moisture freezing into diamond dust.*