Milady Emerald
Vosin straightened up slowly and arched her back to stretch it. Despite being a dragonrider, sometimes she just enjoyed something a little more earthy. The goldrider was dusty and had muck on her boots. A mucking fork in her hand as she paused to watch one of the runners prance around a paddock.
While they couldn't fly, they were beautiful in their own way. I don't see what you see in those land-bound creatures, the gold huffed to her rider. Vosin laughed to herself. They have a beauty about them, a grace and elegance. There was a feeling of disgruntled from the gold. Not as beautiful and elegant as you. The rider soothed her dragon fondly.