The Communal Rut

So now they were waiting for mail.

Right on cue, the post office door swung open and out came a half-dozen humans carrying large carrier pouches filled with letters or parcels. "Good morning. Right on schedule," said one of the postmen.

Without any further fuss, the humans split into two groups and started attaching the pouches onto the flight harnesses the freighters were wearing. Each individual pouch wasn't too heavy, but combined Kassy could feel them weighing her down as the humans used straps and belts to affix the numerous pouches to her sides. "Good to go," declared one of the humans working on Kassy's mail pouches. The humans working on Maxwell's pouches were done just a half minute later, and with that their job was done.

The rest would be up to the dragons—Maxwell and Kassy would fly separate routes, working in a circle to deliver mail between post offices in cities, towns, and villages. On the way they would drop off mail pouches at each post office, and pick up new ones to deliver elsewhere. It was barely a few hours after midnight, but the mail had to go out early so it would be ready by the time people woke up.

Kassy flipped her wings open and checked the wind direction. Bouncing on her paws, she checked to make sure that the mail pouches had been distributed evenly—a weight offset would make flying very difficult. Satisfied that she could fly, she leaned back on her hindlegs and prepared to take flight. "See you later," she said to Maxwell, and then she leapt into the air and began her route.

Maxwell's response was just barely audible over the sound of her wingbeats. "See you!" he replied, before leaping into the air and flying off in the other direction.

---

Hangar, Juniper Ranch, Atlanta; Eight days before the communal rut

Kassy gulped down her dinner, barely even caring about the flavour of the chicken porridge. Dragons were carnivores and they required meat in their diet, but cost savings meant that ranches prioritized nutrition over flavour. The porridge was cheap, it filled her belly, and didn't actually taste that plain, as long as you ate it before it got cold.

Kassy was inside a barn, and about a dozen other freighters were lazing around the cookhouse. Some of the other dragons were eating their own dinner, while some others were already done. Kassy was far from home—this barn actually belonged to a different ranch from a different state entirely, but this wasn't an uncommon occurrence, since freighters often made trips which required many hours of flying.

In the morning, Kassy had left her home ranch to fly her usual New Jersey mail express route with Maxwell. But after they'd finished, Jennifer had routed Kassy southwards to Georgia to deliver some cargo, while Maxwell had been sent northwards to New York. Throughout the course of the day, Kassy had been picking up and delivering cargo to and from ranches, depots, and warehouses. Every time she landed, humans would be waiting to load and unload her cargo and give new instructions issued by the planners either back at her home ranch, or by other ranches in Caedry Aerospace Group.

Today Kassy had carried medical supplies, strawberries, gyroscopes, and all sorts of other cargo. Most of the time she didn't even know what she was carrying—it just came packed in a standard-sized cargo pouch. Each cargo pouch was a modular design which meant it could be carried by a dragon of any species, albeit in different quantities dependant on their flight capabilities. Every pouch had barcode label which was scanned by the humans as they loaded or unloaded it from her flight harness. The sheer amount of different routes and types of cargo was mindboggling, and Kassy wondered how people had managed all these logistics before computers, or even before telephones.

With her dinner finished, Kassy trotted out of the dinner area and into the freighter hangar dormitory, which was filled with dozens of bed mats placed in rows. About a quarter of the mats were already occupied by dragons in a semi-random pattern—some were clustered around the room doors or windows, some were grouped up under the ceiling fans where it was cooler, and others were grouped up based on species or home ranch.

On some of the larger mats there were multiple dragons sleeping together, all snuggled up in a pile. One particular mat had a massive dragon (a blue longwing, Kassy guessed) who was barely visible under the six white-backed nettled gliders piled on top of him.

Such sights were common, even back in Kassy's home ranch. Not seeing anyone she recognized, she picked a spot at random and flopped down onto a bed mat. It was barely four-o'clock in the afternoon, but she'd been up since very early in the morning to fly the predawn mail express. Normally she would only be able to sleep till about midnight, whereupon a human handler would wake her up so she could fly back to her home ranch, just in time for her next flight—the predawn mail express once again. But since today was Saturday and there would be no mail to deliver on Sunday, it would be the one day a week where Kassy had no flight responsibilities at all. She could wake up whenever she pleased, and fly leisurely back towards her home ranch at her convenience.

Kassy yawned widely and stretched. She was about to close her eyes when one of the white-backed nettled gliders came trotting over towards her. The drake bobbed his head in a bow. "Hey, hey! Greyback, excuse me, hey. You're from Quarter Coastal, right? That ranch up in New Jersey? I heard you guys got bought up by Caedry."

Kassy nodded. Her flight harness was marked with the insignia of Quarter Coastal Ranch, although now a Caedry Aerospace Group logo had been added beside it. "Yes, and yes."

"Cool. I'm from Dallas FastFlight Airdrome, also under Caedry." The whiteback gestured towards his side, pointing at the insignia on the side of his flight harness, which also had a Caedry Aerospace Group logo. "My name's Lincoln."

"I'm Kassy."

"Pleased to meet you, Kassy." Lincoln's voice had the rumbly resonance common to all dragons, but he also spoke with a slight drawl. Kassy vaguely recalled having seen him before. Perhaps their paths had already crossed sometime in the past few months since she'd begun flying freight.

"Ah, if it's not too bold of me to ask—is it true you guys are holding a communal rut?" Lincoln asked.

With just over a week left to go, the communal rut was a very common topic of discussion back at Kassy's home ranch, but it surprised her that even dragons from other ranches had heard about it. "You know about that? Yes, it's true. It'll be Sunday next week."

"Really? So all of your people are just going to be mating with each other? Wow." Lincoln sat back on his haunches and used a paw to nervously fiddle with his horns, using a claw to scratch at the tip. "Uh...if it's not too bold of me to ask again—I don't suppose you'll be letting dragons from other ranches join in?"

Kassy's eyes had been half-closed, but now they snapped wide open. After a pause, she sat up straight and stared at Lincoln, looking at him properly. White-backed nettled gliders were a closely related species to grey-backed nettled gliders such as herself—the most obvious difference being the colour of their backs, which led to the different species names. Kassy had light grey scales over most of her body, but her back and upper wing surfaces were coloured a dark slate grey. In comparison, Lincoln also had light grey scales over his body, but his wings and back were coloured a pale white. He was roughly about the same size as her, which meant he was smaller than usual for his breed—white-backed nettled gliders were usually about twenty percent larger than grey-backed nettled gliders.

"Err...I don't think the ranchers would allow it. The communal rut is supposed to be about making eggs, so us mating with dragons from other ranches wouldn't work unless they were also greybacks. The bosses at Caedry Aero decided that they our ranch needs to scale up operations, so that's why they decided to have the communal rut to get more eggs," Kassy explained.

"Oh. That's fair. Although, if you think about it, greybacks like you and whitebacks like me can actually hybridize and produce eggs if we mate, so technically, it could work," Lincoln pointed out. Kassy hadn't been aware of that fact, but it seemed reasonable—their two species were very closely related.

"That's not really for me to decide. It would be up to the ranchers to say if you could join in—uh, I mean, if dragons from other ranches could join in the communal rut."

"Of course, of course. I was just...just asking. Since my ranch is also under Caedry Aero, maybe we'll get a communal rut too, if they decide we need to scale up our operations too. Maybe."

"Maybe," Kassy agreed.

"Alright, good luck with that...the communal rut. Thanks for the information. It's been...interesting talking with you." Lincoln's tail tip swished from side to side, and Kassy wondered why he was acting so nervous. "Your name was...uh...Kassy, right?"

The greyback nodded her head. "Yep."

"Cool. I'm...I'm Lincoln, but I think I already said that earlier, so now I'm repeating myself." Lincoln glanced over his shoulder, looking towards where the five other whitebacks were all lying together.

Kassy looked as well, and she saw that the other dragons appeared to be watching them talk, even including the blue longwing they were all using as a warm cushion. All of a sudden, she got the suspicion that Lincoln had mustered the courage to talk with her because someone had dared him. Which was...possibly flattering?

Lincoln awkwardly shuffled his wings on his back. "So this is definitely too bold of me to ask, but you wouldn't possibly be interested in mating outside of the communal rut? You're...kind of pretty. Oh no, why did I say kind of? I mean, uh, you're pretty. You're very pretty. Way more pretty than me! I'm pretty ugly, and also pretty dumb given that I can't even give compliments properly. In fact, I don't know why I even asked you..."

Now that was flattering. Kassy wasn't sure how to respond—she'd never had anyone tell her she was pretty, and she'd definitely never had anyone ask to mate with her. Lincoln was awkward but there was a certain charm about him. He looked young—a freighter who was just starting his career, just like she was—and his wing muscles were strong from all the flying. His scales were well-groomed and he seemed physically attractive, though Kassy wasn't sure she was a very good judge.

"I should just...let you rest and stop bothering you—" Lincoln had been saying, before Kassy interrupted him.

"Lincoln, you seem like a nice drake. To be honest, I've never mated with anyone before and I'm probably going to be terrible at it."

Lincoln blinked. "Really? Cause, if we're being honest you and me, it's the same for me. I've only started flying real flight routes four months ago, but everything has been so busy since then, and I haven't ever gotten the chance to mate with someone. Everyone seems to act like it's so important, and some of the others drakes from my ranch tease me about it, but I just don't know...how to walk up to a pretty dragoness and seduce her. I can barely even manage the first part."

Kassy was feeling increasingly amused by Lincoln. "You seem to be talking with me just fine."

"That's great! Because I feel like a bumbling fool. I'd probably be really terrible at mating too. I mean, uh, that's not to say that it would be an awful experience, I hope. I meant that maybe we could try and be terrible at mating together...?"

All things considered, Kassy found herself interested in his proposal—Lincoln was handsome and fit, with a disarmingly innocent charm he seemed entirely unaware of. She was about to say yes, but then she remember that she wasn't allowed to accept, so all of her analysis didn't matter. "Oh wait, no. I just remembered—I'm not allowed to mate with other dragons before the communal rut. It's a rule they have because they're worried about disease. So we can't mate. Sorry."

"Oh...okay." Lincoln stared at his paws. He looked like his hopes and dreams had been crushed.

Kassy realized that it sounded like she was making a terrible fake excuse to reject him because she disliked him, when that really wasn't the case at all. "Sorry! It's not that I don't want to mate with you! Really, I would if I could, but it's the rules. The ranchers had us tested last week because the lab results take two weeks, so to be safe we're not allowed to mate with anyone till the communal rut. There's this rule about disease control before the rut."

Lincoln perked up. "Really? You're not just saying that, right? If you don't want to mate with me, I would be alright if you said no. I didn't really expect this to work anyway."

Kassy clicked her tongue and rumbled softly. "Tsk-rrr. I'm not just making it up—I think I would actually be fine with mating with you, but I can't. You can ask any of the other dragons from Quarter Coastal—if we want to be part of the communal rut, we need to go two weeks without mating." Rolling onto her side, she raised her hindleg up and exposed her underbelly. "They even had the vet put this sort of thing inside my slit so that I can't mate. It's like this... medical plug thing which blocks me from mating."

Lincoln appeared rather conflicted—he clearly wanted to take a closer look at her underbelly, but he also didn't want to look overly curious in exploring her genital slit since Kassy had just told him they wouldn't be mating. "They put something in you?"

"They did! The vet called it a restrictor. It doesn't hurt. I don't even feel it most of the time, but supposedly it would mean you—uh, I mean, a drake can't stick his...cock into me. They have a different one for the drakes which stops their cock from coming out." Kassy reached her forepaws down and spread her slit slightly. "Can you see it? The restrictor is like this...white coloured mesh thing shaped like a tube. If I take it out then I can't put it back in, so the ranchers will know I mated with someone."

Lincoln peered at her genital slit, getting close but not too close. He glanced at his own underbelly. "Wow. They must be really serious about avoiding disease."

Lowering her leg back down, Kassy rolled onto her belly again. "So you see, even though I wouldn't actually object to mating with you, I can't. Sorry."

"No problem. It's not your fault. Just my bad luck, I suppose."

"My bad luck too. Maybe if we happen to meet again in the future, we could actually try mating. Do you normally stopover here?" Kassy asked.

"I fly the 431 route on alternating days." Lincoln paused and rubbed his horns again. "Sorry, I guess you don't know what that route is. I usually stopover here at Juniper Ranch on alternating evenings, depending on how much cargo needs to be carried. But it's fine—I'm sure sooner or later I'll figure things out. With schedules changing all the time, who knows if we'll ever see each other again."

"You never know." Kassy smiled—such a gesture was more common among humans, but dragons had expressive snouts too. "Maybe I'll see you next Monday evening, after the communal rut is done and I've got that restrictor removed. Maybe. Or maybe not."

Lincoln nodded. "Maybe indeed. It's been nice talking with you Kassy. Good luck with the communal rut, and with all your flying." Bowing his head politely, he walked back over to where the other dragons from his ranch were resting.

Left alone with her thoughts, Kassy yawned and closed her eyes. It was a pleasant thought that a handsome drake found her pretty enough to be worth talking to, and she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

---

"Rela-tis-stani drnn-nmm! Quarter Coastal rrm-stani, nita," muttered one of the other whitebacks, winking at Lincoln as the young freighter returned. He was speaking in the language of dragons—a verbal form of communication which was better suited to their vocal chords as it relied more on rumbling and humming, which were easier sounds for dragons to make. In English this remark approximately translated to, "Hot stuff, aren't you? That Quarter Coastal dragoness likes you, yes?"

"Don't even need to ask that, it was so obvious," replied another whiteback, also speaking in the dragon language. "But Lincoln, why do you come to sleep with us instead of with her? Did you chicken out? Scared to get your scaleless tail wet?"

Lincoln snorted. "I didn't chicken out. I talked with her and she seems nice. She's from Quarter Coastal, yes, and she confirmed that they're having a communal rut next week."

"Oohh!" A collective groan of envy came from all the five other whitebacks, and the blue longwing they were resting on chuckled in amusement.

"Hoho, you are all a bunch of horny little dragons with sex on the brain," muttered the blue longwing.

"Shut your snout, pillow!" One whiteback raised her paw and slapped down hard on the longwing's scaly back, but with their size difference this was more like a gentle massage than a painful assault. "So the rumours are true!" she exclaimed, switching back to draconic language. "I told you that I heard from Matisa that Quarter Coastal Ranch was organizing a communal rut."

"Matisa loves gossip. Half the things she says are exaggerated."

"But not this thing! Damn, I wish I flew for Quarter Coastal. Lincoln, did you ask if we could join in? I heard that they asked other ranches from around the country to send their dragons. Maybe next Sunday we should try and schedule our flights to be east coast..."

Lincoln clicked his tongue. "She told me that only greybacks were allowed, not whitebacks."

"Such a shame! A little mixing of blood is good for the hatchlings. And you were already halfway there to planting your seed in that female, weren't you, Lincoln?"

"I was not! We were just having friendly conversation."

"Friendly conversation? She raised her hindleg and invited you to take a look at her underbelly. What more of an invitation do you want? You should have jumped on her and taken her."

"Tssk—rrr. It's not like that at all. I couldn't have," Lincoln replied, but he already knew that he wasn't going to convince his fellow freighters. "Move over, you guys are hogging all the soft spots." He leapt up onto the blue longwing's back and tried to find space to sleep.

In his dreams he was flying cargo routes again, except this time he had only one flight partner instead of five, and her back was covered in scales of dark grey instead of white.

---

Rest room, Quarter Coastal Ranch, New Jersey; Two and a half days before the communal rut

Ranchers would wake up sleeping dragons to make sure they flew their routes on time, but Kassy had a natural talent for waking up by herself. Waking up in the morning, she glanced at the glow-in-the-dark wall clock mounted at the side of the resting room—the time was 3:30 AM. It was slightly early for the predawn New Jersey Mail Express, but better to be early than late. Getting to her feet, the young dragoness jumped off her bed mat and silently padded to the doorway.

Quietly walking down the corridor, she stopped to drink her fill from a water trough, and then she slipped out of the barn entirely and headed to the main compound.

Barn One of Quarter Coastal Ranch was already busy, with a half-dozen humans loading cargo pouches onto a pair of dragons preparing for flight. Flight operations carried on even through the night, albeit at a slightly reduced pace compared to during the day. Kassy nodded her head politely to the pair of greybacks, and they nodded their heads back at her.