~Like it or not, I'm back!~
Strike awoke to a burning sensation over his entire body. He opened his gummy eyes, adjusting to the half-light of sunset. The last tingles of magic remained over the worst of his wounds, deep gashes along his flanks and large tears in his leathery wings. He wondered dimly who had healed him, and brought him here. Where was here? The blue searched confused, around his surroundings. He seemed to be facing a sheer cliff face; below he could hear water rushing below. The dragon was halfway inside a cave system, which smelled strongly of sulfur. Lightning. Strike tried to stand, but a flashing pain brought him back down to the ground. "I'm afraid you won't be leaving anytime soon," a feminine voice growled. "Those greens tore you practically to shreds." Strike heaved his body around, glaring at the amber eyes burning from the shadows within the cavern. "Who are you?" the blue snarled. "And where am I?" Kynsath trotted cautiously into the light, keeping far away from the still lethal fangs and breath. Strike hissed angrily, howling in pain as bronze claws dug into his muzzle. "I'm sorry, I have forgotten that you have probably saved my life," he admitted, subdued. Kynsath's fiery gaze softened slightly, "You may stay while you're limbs heal, Beryl does not know of this place. But the moment you can stand, leave, and tell no one!" The bronze turned and stalked back into her personal cavern, keeping her eyes on the blue. Why she had saved the hateful waste of flesh, she still did not know.
"They found us! How could they know of this place?" "I do not know." Kynsath trotted up next to the male bronze, her gaze hardening at the sight of the two black dragons flying closer and closer to their hidden cave at the peak of the mighty Kharolis. "Kynsath, take the eggs, and fly away quickly." "No! I will not leave you! We can take these spawn of darkness!" The male turned to stare at her. "You know as well as I do what their after. If they finish us, there is nothing to keep Beryl from destroying the eggs." Kynsath averted her gaze, trying to keep him from seeing her tears. The male bronze nuzzled the female around her crested horns. "Leave now, or it will be too late," he whispered. Kynsath ran sorrowfully to fetch her precious children, not daring to look back. Using her magic, she shrank the orbs into the size of a child's play ball. The bronze hastily stuffed them into a plain drawstring bag, which she slipped over her slender neck. Slinking silently through the back entrance, Kynsath glanced back towards the front ledge. The blacks had landed, the bronze standing boldly between them and the cave. She lingered just long enough to burn this last picture into her mind. Sunlight flashed off his scales, making them appear almost gold. His eyes were fixed upon the enemy, calmly facing the fact that death would come swift, and soon. Kynsath turned and glided back towards the forested valley. Tears blinded her as she flapped further and further from the raging battle. The air became strangely silent, just before a single blood-curdling scream echoed against the towering peaks. Kynsath floundered, the pain of her loss making her wings feel heavy as lead. Two shrieks of frustration split the air. Obviously their prey had somehow escaped! Kynsath, with one last look at her home since birth, glided into the shelter of the marshlands.
Strike awoke startled. He shook his sweaty mane and muzzle. What a nightmare! At the sight of the strange white moon, he could only recall bits and pieces of the dream. Claws clicked on the cold stone floor, the sound echoing closer and closer. "I heard something scream," Kynsath stated matter-of-factly. Strike, still shaken by the dream, narrowed his eyes. "What ever happened to your mate?" Kynsath appeared startled by this question. "That is none of your concern!" "His body lies here, doesn't it?" Kynsath sighed painfully, "Yes, his spirit must have cried to you, as it does me every night. After the blacks left to report to Beryl, I recovered what was left of Clash, and buried his body beneath the river below." "Just one skull hidden from the Dragon Lords' totems," Strike mumbled distractedly. "Your mate.?" "She serves Malys in death." Kynsath, after a moment's silence, placed a claw on the blue's shoulder. Embarrassed, she retreated to the solace of her lair.
Strike awoke to a burning sensation over his entire body. He opened his gummy eyes, adjusting to the half-light of sunset. The last tingles of magic remained over the worst of his wounds, deep gashes along his flanks and large tears in his leathery wings. He wondered dimly who had healed him, and brought him here. Where was here? The blue searched confused, around his surroundings. He seemed to be facing a sheer cliff face; below he could hear water rushing below. The dragon was halfway inside a cave system, which smelled strongly of sulfur. Lightning. Strike tried to stand, but a flashing pain brought him back down to the ground. "I'm afraid you won't be leaving anytime soon," a feminine voice growled. "Those greens tore you practically to shreds." Strike heaved his body around, glaring at the amber eyes burning from the shadows within the cavern. "Who are you?" the blue snarled. "And where am I?" Kynsath trotted cautiously into the light, keeping far away from the still lethal fangs and breath. Strike hissed angrily, howling in pain as bronze claws dug into his muzzle. "I'm sorry, I have forgotten that you have probably saved my life," he admitted, subdued. Kynsath's fiery gaze softened slightly, "You may stay while you're limbs heal, Beryl does not know of this place. But the moment you can stand, leave, and tell no one!" The bronze turned and stalked back into her personal cavern, keeping her eyes on the blue. Why she had saved the hateful waste of flesh, she still did not know.
"They found us! How could they know of this place?" "I do not know." Kynsath trotted up next to the male bronze, her gaze hardening at the sight of the two black dragons flying closer and closer to their hidden cave at the peak of the mighty Kharolis. "Kynsath, take the eggs, and fly away quickly." "No! I will not leave you! We can take these spawn of darkness!" The male turned to stare at her. "You know as well as I do what their after. If they finish us, there is nothing to keep Beryl from destroying the eggs." Kynsath averted her gaze, trying to keep him from seeing her tears. The male bronze nuzzled the female around her crested horns. "Leave now, or it will be too late," he whispered. Kynsath ran sorrowfully to fetch her precious children, not daring to look back. Using her magic, she shrank the orbs into the size of a child's play ball. The bronze hastily stuffed them into a plain drawstring bag, which she slipped over her slender neck. Slinking silently through the back entrance, Kynsath glanced back towards the front ledge. The blacks had landed, the bronze standing boldly between them and the cave. She lingered just long enough to burn this last picture into her mind. Sunlight flashed off his scales, making them appear almost gold. His eyes were fixed upon the enemy, calmly facing the fact that death would come swift, and soon. Kynsath turned and glided back towards the forested valley. Tears blinded her as she flapped further and further from the raging battle. The air became strangely silent, just before a single blood-curdling scream echoed against the towering peaks. Kynsath floundered, the pain of her loss making her wings feel heavy as lead. Two shrieks of frustration split the air. Obviously their prey had somehow escaped! Kynsath, with one last look at her home since birth, glided into the shelter of the marshlands.
Strike awoke startled. He shook his sweaty mane and muzzle. What a nightmare! At the sight of the strange white moon, he could only recall bits and pieces of the dream. Claws clicked on the cold stone floor, the sound echoing closer and closer. "I heard something scream," Kynsath stated matter-of-factly. Strike, still shaken by the dream, narrowed his eyes. "What ever happened to your mate?" Kynsath appeared startled by this question. "That is none of your concern!" "His body lies here, doesn't it?" Kynsath sighed painfully, "Yes, his spirit must have cried to you, as it does me every night. After the blacks left to report to Beryl, I recovered what was left of Clash, and buried his body beneath the river below." "Just one skull hidden from the Dragon Lords' totems," Strike mumbled distractedly. "Your mate.?" "She serves Malys in death." Kynsath, after a moment's silence, placed a claw on the blue's shoulder. Embarrassed, she retreated to the solace of her lair.