I come from Withered Heath.

A tribe nestled between two enormous Grey Mountains. It's so high up in the clouds that even from close distance, one cannot see signs of life, nor the flashes of dragon fire. The whole tribe is surrounded by snow and rocks, with twisted trees crawling their way around.

There is a good hundred of us living in Withered Heath. And with everyone comes a dragon, breed by the Dragon Breeders in the boiling lava of the underground volcanoes.

I have never placed a foot outside the boundaries of Withered Heath.

It is forbidden for someone my age, still considered a child amongst the bigger men and woman. I shall never see the full world. Not unless I escape, and even then the soldiers would hunt me down in seconds.

I have heard stories. From the older men and women. The ones that weren't born in this snowy mountain. Instead, they talk of tall trees with soft leaves that would protect them from the harsh sunlight, small flowers with colourful petals and delicious meat that wasn't goat or antelope.

But that was thousands of years ago.

I cannot remember how because I was not born then. Never have I been told the story, just told the present and the rules I must follow to insure I can stay with the tribe and not be outcasted. Although with a dragon like mine, I doubt I'll be able to stay for long. The chief and his men will realize who useless I am to the tribe and have me banished to die, struggling for food and shelter in the wild mountains.