Carefully she examined her surroundings. Her mate flicked his tail at her, the raid was about to begin. Through growls and grunts, she communicated through dragon-speak.

"Ready?" She asked. Her mate flicked his tail again.

"As ready as ever." He answered.

Not six sunrises ago the rest of the Night Furies had been killed by the Death Dragon. As punishment for not bringing enough sacrifice. Now the last two Night Furies were determined to obtain enough to satisfy the Death Dragon and keep their race alive. Both knew their duties to their extinct parents and siblings. Tonight, they would redeem themselves.

"We will avenge them!" She shouted as she dove, carefully she aimed her blast at the tower. Two of the humans were standing there. The Death Dragon hated the humans, so disposing of them was the best way. Suddenly, out of nowhere something grabbed at her wing. It fastened around her mate's tail and ripped half her wing off.

Down. Down. Down. She felt the air whipping past her scales and desperately tried to open her right wing. But it simply didn't do anything. All she saw was the ground rushing up at her and then all went black.

Days passed. For a while, she believed that she was dead. Until finally, her mate nudged her awake.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Tentatively, she stood up. Flexed her left wing. Then her right. A sudden searing pain rippled up her wing and into the core of her body.

"Aah!" She shouted.

"What is it?" His anxious voice broke through the pain.

"My wing. What's wrong with it?" She asked. The purple scales behind her eyes blocked her vision of her wings. Her mate sniffed at the wound.

"It's gone. The main part of your wing is gone." He reported. Annoyed, she sighed.

"And how are you?" She asked. He flicked his tail at her in his way.

"Nothing serious. I can't fly either. I think that my tail is wounded. But even if I could fly I wouldn't leave you." He laughed. "The more important question is where are we."