A glittering white dragon slowly set his foot down in the middle of a patch of open dirt. His claw caught on a root and he hissed with frustration. Icewings don't belong in the rainforest! He thought, dreaming of the cool ice and snow back at home.
But he knew that a great victory depended on him. If he could get the message to the Rainwing queen, all the tribes would be warned and on full alert, and maybe, just maybe, they could fend off the murderous scavengers.
But daydreaming had distracted the Icewing, and he was snapped out of his fantasy by a needle of red-hot pain shooting down his back. He roared and spun around, but he knew what it was before he saw: scavengers.
This time holding instead of their standard pointy metal stick, a weapon of some sort that looked like a curved piece of wood with some string. He reached his talons to his back, and they touched something. Instinctively pulling, he nearly fainted from the pain, but he saw what it was now. Some kind of arrow-shaped projectile.
With the wound in his back bleeding profusely, he staggered to a tree to catch his breath, but the scavengers followed him. The pain in his back distracted him, but in a feat of Herculean strength, he opened his mouth and let out a stream of freezing breath. The scavenger that he aimed it at instantly froze and fell over.
The Icewing saw a scavenger flesh-colored piece of ice skid off and winced. The remaining 4 scavengers seemed a little intimidated bywhat happened to their comrade, but it also seemed to increase their morale. They took another one of their projectiles in synchronicity, and let themloose so fast that the Icewing had no time to react.
4 projectiles flew at him.
One found its mark.
Roaring so loud in pain that the trees shook, the Icewing slowly toppled like a fallen tree. He never got up again.