《Ravenous》 Birth. Her wings, hindlegs, and forelegs are bound with thick ropes, forcing her to hobble forward. Her muzzle is painfully held shut by the man as she is pulled by it into the village center. The village center is surrounded by wooden logs carved into spikes at the top; some have stories carved into them. In the back is a large hall made with clay walls and a thatch roof; either side of it has a pole torch outside. She is dragged inside. In there is a very elder man who speaks to her captor in a tongue she doesn¡¯t understand, patting him on the back briefly before returning to his throne in the back of the hut. His throne is made of clay with colored stories painted on it. Next to the throne is a staff with a skull of one of her own kind; she feels her heart thud. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. She is suddenly thrown into a cage in a corner, landing heavily on her side, causing her to groan in pain. Her muzzle feels sore after being let go. She lies there; her swollen stomach would make it a chore to stand up. Time passes quickly as she lays there. Her contractions becoming stronger. She starts grunting out of pain. The village elder watches her from a distance on his throne, staff in hand. She goes into labor, trying to quiet her grunting. She is upset that this is the place where she must give birth - that thought quickly fading as she feels her body contract, pain washing over her, beginning to push out her first offspring. A membrane coats it, acting as a lubricant, allowing the offspring to be passed easier. She passes her first offspring, biting the umbilical cord off, cleaning the newborn as she starts delivering her second offspring. Trophy. She is finished, letting out a shaky purr of relief as she curls around her newborns to keep them warm with her body heat, their fur beginning to fluff up after being cleaned. She loses worry in this moment, her head underneath her own wing watching over them. Her purring after each heavy breath becoming calmer. She feels proud - and tired - losing herself to sleep, her eyelids slowly shutting after her exhausting task. Later in the night, she wakes up, finding her drafiatal missing; her heart starts thudding; her body becoming overwhelmingly hot out of angst as she stands up, roaring loudly to call them while looking around frantically. She sees a large group of people dressed in fur pelts; some are white with light grey fur - pelts made from her own kind. They are surrounding a clay table embedded in the floor, there she sees only two of her offspring. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. She hears her own heart, feeling the blood running through her veins; her body heat beginning to level. She growls, staring them down as she watches; they seem to ignore her. One of them stands up, picking up her sleeping offspring, which is wrapped in a light grey fur pelt; he walks off with it, exiting the hall. She starts roaring loudly at them, noticing a woman who has a human newborn of her own. She is swaying with it gently; it is wrapped in the same type of pelt as her own. A small elder woman enters; she is adorned with many pelts and skulls. She has many tools and knives on her. She approaches her remaining offspring with the knife; her roaring ceases. The woman places the knife on the newborn¡¯s neck, slowly creating an incision, as if to take it¡¯s skull out as a trophy. Her body shakes, her ears folding back as she watches wide-eyed, seeing blood pour out, staining the newborn¡¯s fluff. The knife eventually makes its way through the neck; the old lady detaches it¡¯s head with a light pull, the remaining skin at the bottom that held it ripping off smoothly and quietly. The tribesmen chatter to each other quietly. Massacre. Her vision fades, her hearing dims, her thoughts fade, her mind dims. She remembers her own mother, her own pack, her own siblings, killed by people who could breathe incredible fire from fruits. They were burned alive. She remembers their bodies falling and writhing in pain as they became engulfed in an unnatural flame. Her mate had shielded her as one spit fire onto him, letting her escape and carry on their legacy in another pack. Now she has nothing left. She feels empty. The wrath of her bloodline falls upon her. She has no control over her body. She places a talon on the bar, her claws gripping it, pushing against it. It snaps, breaking off, causing her muscles to tear; regardless, her arm carries over to the next bar, continuing to push, breaking it, allowing her to exit out of the cage. The tribe leaders stand in disbelief, frozen in fear. She stares at them, then charges, breaking their stillness. The woman turns away but is gutted by the dragon¡¯s claws, falling down onto her knees, placing her sleeping newborn down safely before falling dead on top of it. The dragon charges the tribal leader, pushing him down by his head; his skull cracks and shatters, his brains spilling out, coating the dragon¡¯s lower arms and the clay floor. She charges the fellmonger, who dodges by falling herself onto all fours, causing the dragon to run over her. The dragon hits her with her tail, rolling her across the floor, leaving her slowly struggling to get up. The rest of the men run into the village to raise an alarm. The dragon grabs the fallen staff, going over to the lady who had fully gotten up, knocking her back down onto her back before she can dodge, taking the staff and piercing it through her mouth and into the floor. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The dragon stomps on her hand once, causing it to explode, staining her fur with blood and tissue, the bones crushing into bits. Then, she stomps on her other hand, causing her to cry out in pain as it becomes mutilated, her tendons severing. Then her forearm, stepping down hard on it, pressing into it to cause her pain before lifting her talon and stomping on it, the bones crack and blood starts to spurt out of her arteries. She grabs one of her knives between her claws, slowly stabbing her over and over as the old lady lays underneath her, screaming. The dragon places one of the knives in her throat, another on her other forearm, and another on her bicep. She stomps on her feet; bones crack, tendons sever, and blood splatters everywhere. The dragon starts to bite her, ripping chunks out of her body, causing her blood to pool beneath her. Blood forms in her throat and mouth, causing her to choke - unable to scream anymore. She dies slowly, painfully, her face becoming paler. She stomps on her skull, destroying her head as if she had stepped on watermelon. The dragon charges out to kill more people. Outside in the courtyard, there is an army of hundreds of men. They are chewing on a red fruit, then they spit fire. Her body is engulfed in flames. She roars deafeningly loud, her voice audibly burning away. She charges at them, trampling some of them to death and burning others; the rest charge the dragon with their spears. Several enter her body, her blood boiling as it falls onto the grass, burning it. She starts swinging her claws and flailing her tail, goring some of the men, and burning and knocking down several others. She stomps the ground beneath her, crushing some of the men who had been knocked down. The wrath of her ancestors had kept her alive for so long; her body almost fully deteriorated now. She falls over, dying. The few remaining men are terrified of something fighting them so ravenously while burning alive. The bones of dead men begin to rattle; some of the men let out bloodcurdling screams as their dead comrades become possessed by the souls of the furred dragon¡¯s bloodline. Men of legend among the tribe buried in catacombs beneath the village rise up, grabbing their gear and exiting their tombs, going out to wreak havoc. Those who run away are ambushed by animals risen from the dead, mauling them. Everyone is killed. The soil becomes displaced, all the grass and plants dead from the dead rising up beneath them. The landscape is a muddy wasteland. The remaining offspring freeze to death or are killed by vultures. Goats Milk. The fire from the battle yesterday had destroyed much of the village; all the thatch roofs of the huts had turned to ash. The clay walls of houses and structures turned black from the heat, speckled with white ash. Many of the clay structures and homes had been destroyed from fighting; the reanimated corpses had purposefully leveled as much as they could before sunrise, leaving short crumbled clay walls as remnants of the village. Parts of the grand hall had crumbled; the spiked wooden pillars once surrounding it burned to ash. Many men vigorously defended that area as their final stand. Several bodies littered the hall; some lay back against the wall, dying slowly as the morning sun continued to dawn, coming through the clay windows, reflecting off the pools of blood. During the night of the attack, a middle-aged man who was not native to the tribe whom lived amongst them had been watching over the village from a hill while carrying a goat who had wondered off back down. Seeing the burning dragon survive unnaturally long, he felt his gut telling him to stay away, climbing into the tree beside him, taking the goat up with him in his arm, where he watched all night. Once the morning had risen, he groggily got out of the tree, the goat still tucked in his arm, he sets it down. Most of the corpses had burned, leaving the village scattered with bones. The once grassy land was replaced with damp soil. He heads down towards the village, finding bones everywhere. He finds a rope and ties the goat to a post, going out to search for any survivors left, wandering around in the direction of the grand hall, which stood mostly intact. The bodies here aren¡¯t totally charred; many wear destroyed leather armor underneath metal plates on their chest, back, legs, and arms, which would¡¯ve been expensive for the tribe to produce. He picks up a spear, poking some of the bodies with the blunt end to see if any of them react - they all seem to have bled to death. He eventually makes his way over to the body of a woman who seems to be lying on something. He places the blunt end of the spear underneath her, flipping the limp body over it''s arms sprawling out as it falls onto it''s back. He makes a sudden noise of surprise, his eyes widening, finding a newborn child and furred dragon with fur colored white and light grey - similar color to the trees - wrapped in a pelt of similar colored fur. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. He knew the tribe had been hunting these furred dragons for a while now, but could they really use such strong magic like what happened last night? Non-humanoids had never been recorded using magic before. He checks if they¡¯re alive; they¡¯re not bleeding. He presses his head against their chests, barely hearing their small heartbeats. He feels greatly relieved, though troubled, knowing this furred dragon is the offspring of the one who massacred the entire tribe, but also the one who kept the newborn child warm all night within the pelt, sharing their heat together. He does not have the callousness to leave either child, choosing to take care of the boy and furred dragon, picking them up, which causing them to stir. The child begins to cry, noticing this person is not his mother. The furred dragon stirs because of this, ending up with its head and talon over the newborn in an almost hug, causing the newborn to instinctively lean into the furry warmth and calm down. The man stares at them, trying to think of how to feed them - because he knows he can¡¯t lactate. He eventually remembers the goat. In the Fiarum tribe, he had learned that when a mother died during labor, the child would be fed from a goat - and also cursed among the tribe due to superstitions. He carries them out to the goat he had tied up, untying the rope from the post and carrying the goat back to the hall. The goat had been around newborn goats before they were all killed or ran off last night, so he assumes she¡¯s lactating. Once he arrives back at the shelter, he places the goat on the table, holding newborns underneath the goat to feed from it. The morning fades into midday; he spends his time scavenging, taking gear from the bodies and cleaning it off, suiting himself in armor with a large sword prototype sheathed on his back that was heavy to swing. He clears junk out of the grand hall, which he had made into their shelter, letting the newborns lay together in a wooden crib he had carried into their shelter. After that, he drags the bodies outside, digging a grave site for them off in the distance. Evening falls as he finishes hauling the bodies to the grave site, beginning to dig the graves for them and placing large stones as markers - unengraved because he did not know their names. Once night falls, he heads back; the goat wonders around the shelter. He had placed a small boulder at the door to stop the goat from wondering off. He falls asleep next to the crib, totally exhausted, his gear lying beside him.
He wakes up the next day at midday due to his lack of sleep, sitting up tiredly and rubbing his eyes, then getting up and feeding the children. He decides to spend most of that day building a harness out of thick cordage to carry them on his back as he does his work. Once he finishes, he resumes digging the grave site for those who still had flesh on them. During that time, he planned to dig a large hole to put the scattered bones from around the village into. Days pass as he continues, falling asleep on the ground beside the crib exhausted every night from labor, falling asleep easily. Aging Years pass; the newborns grow up together, weaning off of goats milk and onto the food their father had hunted for them or grown from the garden. He had become skilled with using the large sword prototype. During the period of digging the graveyard, he named them. The boy was named Losian, meaning to be lost or die, perish, or be destroyed like his tribe was. The furred dragon was named Forleosan, meaning to lose or to destroy. Because her mother lost her newborns and destroyed the tribe. It has been thirteen years since he found them together. He had taught the boy that it was not Forleosan¡¯s fault for her mother¡¯s actions. Nor was it Losian¡¯s fault for his tribe¡¯s actions.
He awakes slowly on the floor of the grand hall that they had made home, rubbing his eyes clean. His sister is holding him while laying on her side with one arm over him and another arm extended out infront of her. One of her wings lies over him; her other wing lazily sprawled behind her. This was comfortable and helped keep him warm since he wore just a loincloth due to his adoptive father not being the best clothier. He had woken up before her, like normal, so he moves her arm up, crawling out from under her. His father was likely out in the garden somewhere, hunting or doing some other work, so he goes out to walk in order to wake himself up. This was his routine. During his walk, he hears running, tensing up as he gets shoved into the ground. This was his sister¡¯s routine. ¡°I found you, Losian!¡± She teases, standing pridefully on top of him. ¡°Okay,¡± He responds dryly. ¡°Let me up.¡± ¡°What if I don¡¯t?¡± He lies underneath her, silent, waiting for her to get off of him. Eventually, she does. ¡°You could try to fight, at least.¡± ¡°You weigh a lot.¡± He replies, standing up. ¡°Just play with me!¡± She beckons, pushing him onto his back before he can get back up. ¡°Stoop!¡± He whines in an annoyed tone, slamming his fists on her forelegs in a fit of rage. She grunts, jumping back off of him. He gets up, charging her, slamming his weight into her, knocking her onto her back. Her fluffy tailtip flicking and twitching excitedly. He grabs her shoulders, shaking her up and down repeatedly. Growling angerly at her. She thinks he¡¯s just playing, taking her front talons and pushing him off of her, making him grip onto her shoulders harder as he tries to resist. She overpowers him, his fingernails scratching her as his grip fails, he jumps off of her. She stands up quickly, charging at him. He jumps to the side before she can tackle him, grabbing onto one of her hindlegs in an attempt to trip her. She hits him off with her tail, causing him to fall back and roll onto the ground, where she turns around and pins him. Her tail flicks arrhythmically. ¡°I win!¡± He glares at her, almost on the verge of tears. He bites her forearm. She lets out a small roar, jumping back. ¡°Why would you do that?!¡± She whines. He stands up, charging her, knocking her onto her back, grabbing her talons so she can¡¯t push him off. His face is red, tears streaming down. ¡°Sometimes I don¡¯t want to play! I don¡¯t like being pushed around by you all the time!¡± He gets off of her, angerly shoving her talons back, running off into the forest, upset that he had been losing so many of their fighting games recently. She chases after him, causing him to speed up. They run for awhile. He keeps looking back at her, not looking where he¡¯s going, he bumps into something metallic, clutching his head as he falls back. ¡°Oww..¡± She flinches, looking down, then relaxes, realizing it¡¯s just a kid. ¡°Aw, where are you from, kid?¡± She says sweetly, before noticing the furred dragon chasing him. ¡°Kill it.¡± A tall, lengthy, hairy, somewhat muscular guy charges it, unsheathing a large sword similar to his father¡¯s - this one was a little thicker. "No don¡¯t!" He shrieks, causing the man to stop infront of the cowering furred dragon. The lady looks down at the boy, tilting her head slightly in confusion. ¡°Wasn¡¯t it after you?¡± She asks. ¡°Th-that¡¯s my sister.¡± He says timidly, his body trembling, hands clenching onto her armor. ¡°Come back, Malikav.¡± She orders. He sheathes his sword; his expression of disappointment causing Losian to shiver. He runs over to Forleosan, hugging her tightly, she puts her wings around him. Another guy is behind her; he wears a light grey robe made of silk. He is slightly short. ¡°Faeger, do you think it¡¯s possible for any intelligent animal to raise a human? Like they have done with this furred dragon?¡± His voice is soft. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Doubt an animal would care,¡± She says. She stares with interest at the two children for a moment. ¡°Tell us, where do you kids live?¡± Losian is silent for a moment, still hugging his sister tightly. ¡°We live in a destroyed tribe; ghosts came and killed everyone besides us and our father.¡± He lifts a hand up, pointing her in the direction of the village. She walks over to them, crouching down to pat both of them on the head, trying to speak softly, ¡°Can you lead us there?¡± ¡°Okay...¡± He says, taking a moment before releasing his hold on Forleosan, beginning to walk towards the direction of the destroyed village, pressing close to his sister. After awhile, they arrive at the village. The village is in a large clearing, a rocky mountain overlooking it. The sun had begun rising up above the mountain, illuminating the valley. The one in the light grey robe speaks. ¡°It¡¯s so beautiful here, Faeger, just like you.¡± Malikav sighs, ¡°Would you shut up, Sabio?¡± Faeger stands there, contemplating. Their father is seen walking towards them in armor with the greatsword on his back. Faeger¡¯s and Malikav¡¯s armor covers their full body, their father''s does not. Their father stops infront of them, ¡°What are you doing here in this remote place, travelers?¡± She unsheathes her sword, placing it infront of his children. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter. Hand over this village, or we¡¯ll kill them.¡± His expression remains still, taking a few steps forward. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t.¡± Malikav speaks, ¡°She would. She uses fire-type magic; it has influenced her personality enough to do so. I¡¯m not for killing children either, so hand over the village.¡± He makes a clicking sound with his tongue, looking behind her as if he were signaling to someone, causing her to look. He unsheathes his sword, swinging underhanded, hitting her blade and launching it up, letting them run. Malikav tries to chase after them, unsheathing his sword. Their father, Dyrstig, jumps infront of him, swinging his sword at his head, making Malikav block it at an awkward angle, causing him to struggle. ¡°You¡¯re just bandit scum; you will be killed in the spot you stand.¡± He increases the force of his blade, making Malikav wince, his breathing growing harder. "Kill him, Sabio!" She yells, pointing at Dyrstig. Sabio stands there, sulking, his head down. ¡°But he has children...¡± His tone shifting from soft to upset. "He¡¯s gonna kill Malikav! We saved you!" Sabio pauses before looking up at him. ¡°The snow is soft and gentle, but the blizzard is cold and harsh.¡± He raises his hands, the gloves on them rip, frost beginning to form around his hands. His features are clearer now; he has long hair white as snow down to his shoulders; his arms are skinny; his hands slightly small. He places his hands in a blowpipe formation, blowing through it, funneling extremely cold air towards him. Dyrstig dodges, letting the man he had been overpowering free. Malikav jumps away, breathing heavily, dropping his sword, his arms hanging limp and tired. He had torn his muscle while defending himself. He feels the air in a radius around him become colder, even though he had dodged far away. He realizes the boy is an immensely powerful cold sage. He forfeits, ¡°Leave my children alone. Take the village; just let us stay here.¡± ¡°Kill him, Sabio; the blizzard is unforgiving!¡± She beckons him. ¡°We¡¯ll raise your children.¡± He takes his hood off, the air frosts around his head. Forleosan tackles him from behind, knocking him down before he can freeze their father. Losian runs behind Faeger, kicking her in the back of the knee, causing her to fall over. He gets on her back, throwing off her helmet, punching her in the back of her head. Forleosan begins shivering, unable to attack Sabio from being so cold. She tries to back off of him, her shivering intensifying. Faeger pushes herself up, causing him to fall off her back. She lunges at the kid, pinning him down by one arm, drawing a knife. He tries to squirm out of her grasp, causing her to miss and stab his upper shoulder. Forleosan is still shivering heavily. Dyrstig feels a wave of adrenaline rush through him, charging Faeger, letting out an enraged battle cry. Cold radiates heavier from Sabio; the grass around them beginning to gain dew and frost; the air becoming slightly misty. He directs the cold at Dyrstig, only affecting him slightly as his blood runs hot with anger. Sabio starts to take off his robe. Dyrstig swings his blade before Faeger can stab Losian again; her body is cut in half, her blood and organs spilling everywhere and onto Losian. The force he put into the swing causes him to lose balance and drop his greatsword from the hand numbing cold; unable to rebalance with the swords motion, he falls over. Losian gets up, running over to his sister, who had backed away due to the cold, wanting to go to her for warmth and to watch their father fight. The cold grows in intensity. Sabio had taken off his robe, only wearing an undergarment. Losian and Forleosan back away further, trying to get away from the source of cold, both of them shivering heavily, Losian tucking his hands under his shoulder. Dyrstig stands up, fighting off the cold; his hands have gone numb, his arms hang limply. He throws himself at Sabio, slowly dying of hypothermia, he bites his shoulder. Sabio¡¯s blood freezes over the wound immediately. Dyrstig passes out, falling asleep from the intense cold; dying of hypothermia. He looks around for the children; they had fled out of his sight. The fog had grown in thickness, hindering his vision. Everything around him freezes suddenly, killing Malikav, whose blood turns to ice inside of him, his body standing still like a statue. Sabio is distraught; the radius of cold growing around him, clouds beginning to form, the fog spreading further and faster. Losian and Forleosan look back at the expanding cloud of cold fog as they run, Losian clutching his shoulder. Both of them are crying; Forleosan looks terrified. Both of them had seen the one who had acted as their father die infront of them. They run for hours. They run until Forleosan becomes exhausted, falling down and lying there on the forest floor, panting heavily. He joins her, letting himself fall down, sitting there while breathing heavily, still clutching his shoulder wound, his left side covered in dried blood. They pant heavily for a while, until one of them is able to speak again. ¡°Losian...¡± Her voice is soft and upset. ¡°Our father¡¯s gone.¡± She buries her head into her talons. He sits there, still panting heavily, before speaking, ¡°I¡¯m so thirsty.¡± His voice is barely audible. He gets up, walking off, searching for a water source. She slowly gets up, following after him. Eventually they find a small creek, where they lower their heads and drink. He mimics the way his sister drinks water, lapping at it with his tongue, forming a bowl with it each time to drink. Normally she would flick water towards him playfully when they drank together, but now she wears a somber expression, her eyelids heavy. He flicks water at her, disliking seeing her like this. ¡°Stop,¡± She growls. He stands, speaking rapidly, ¡°You didn¡¯t stop when I asked you; that¡¯s why dad¡¯s dead!¡± He splashes a wave of water in her face, walking off quickly, trying to stifle his crying. She tries to put her head under the water, wanting to drown herself, though the creek isn¡¯t deep enough for that. She knows she doesn¡¯t have the will to drown herself, regardless. ¡°What if you didn¡¯t run off, Losian!? You could¡¯ve ran in any other direction! You acted immature!" She roars back at him. He ignores her, leaning against a tree, looking down to avoid her gaze, picking at his fingernails anxiously, tearing at his cuticles, causing blood to run from them. It¡¯s obvious he¡¯s crying; tears falling to the ground. ¡°Losian, please,¡± Her voice is shaking; she is quiet again. ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight right now.¡± She walks over to him, pressing her head against his cheek. ¡°This isn¡¯t just a nightmare..?¡± He mutters, still looking down at his hands. ¡°No.¡± She nuzzles his neck, seeking comfort. His voice is quiet, ¡°I want to sleep.¡± ¡°I do too.¡± He shifts off the tree, leaning his weight onto her, placing his arms on her side. She lays down, his body lowering with hers. He hugs her while lying on his side, seeking warmth. He drifts asleep alongside her. Lost. She wakes up, noticing he¡¯s gone as normal. She feels her intuition telling her it will storm. The sky is cloudy. She hears the sound of stones hitting into water in the distance, getting up and stretching before going towards it. She sees him skipping large flat rocks on the water surface. He lifts up a large round stone, throwing it. It makes a loud gloop sound as it hits the water, which turns into a louder splash; he wasn¡¯t able to throw it far enough as water splashes onto him. She chuckles quietly, which quickly fades, remembering why they¡¯re both there. She sheds a tear, but tries to hold her crying in, going over and walking towards him. She approaches him. He continues skipping rocks, not bothering to look at her. ¡°Losian, it¡¯s going to storm tonight; we need to find shelter.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± He mutters. ¡°What?¡± She becomes upset. "Shut up!" He yells, chucking a large skipping stone before shoving her side away from him. He glares at her, breathing heavily. She''s on the verge of crying. ¡°Why... are you acting like this..? Please, stop it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s your fault. Dad would¡¯ve just left you if he hadn¡¯t found you with me. Your mother killed all of my real family. Now you killed him; you just finished what she started. You¡¯ll kill me too!¡± ¡°We always played that game where I find you. But you ran off and found those travelers; it¡¯s not my fault - it¡¯s not yours either.¡± Her tone is soft, trying to reason with him. ¡°I told you to stop, but you didn¡¯t! It¡¯s your fault!¡± He charges her, picking up a large stone in both hands. ¡±It¡¯s your fault!!" She stands there, thinking he might be bluffing. He swings the rock at her; She tries to dodge, but the rock gashes her muzzle, her blood dripping rapidly onto the rocks below. ¡°W-what!?¡± She starts trembling slightly, running off. He chases after her a short distance, stopping at the treeline. She hears him repeatedly bash the rock into a tree, slowing down then stopping as he gets fatigued. He squats down, breathing heavily. She watches him from a distance through the trees, her body still shaking nervously, her entire tail thrashing around in spurts. She tries to walk back over to him. His arms must be tired by now. She stops near him, sitting, still keeping some distance. ¡°Losian, stop. He saved us both. You aren¡¯t really trying to kill me, are you..?¡± ¡°Before you kill me.¡± "I miss him too! Stop blaming me!" She roars, running at him and swinging her talons, knocking him onto his back, leaving a gash across his stomach and chest. His blood stains her claws. She freezes, her eyes widening. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°It¡¯s your fault. You¡¯re born from your mother. You¡¯ll kill me too.¡± "Stop!" She shrieks, falling down and placing her talons over her head, breathing heavily. He lays there, his wound bleeding as she hyperventilates. She blames herself, never wanting to play again, so nothing like this happens again. She hears him making pained noises, wanting to go over to him and lick his wounds like she normally does. She waits to calm down slightly before standing up, her mind still throbbing with confusion and angst, as she goes over to him, lying down beside him, licking his wounds. He winces but doesn¡¯t protest. Licking him instinctively calms her down. She eventually cleans his wound, lying beside him, his blood clotting over the gashes. He remains lying there on his back. ¡°I feel dizzy.¡± She sighs in response, shifting closer towards him. ¡°I¡¯m so hungry, too.¡± She waits a moment, still regaining herself, before responding. ¡°Maybe we could try to hunt?¡± She suggests. ¡°You can run for a lot longer than me, but I can run faster than you.¡± He tries to sit up, groaning in pain as he does. She quickly lifts her head up in concern. ¡°Maybe you can¡¯t run; I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± He sounds upset and annoyed. She sits up aswell, looking down at him. ¡°Please, stay here; I¡¯ll try to kill a deer - something like that.¡± He stares at her, not saying anything, still upset. She stares back at him for a while before getting up, walking off in search of prey. Eventually, she hears the sound of deer walking on fallen leaves. She lowers her stance, stalking towards the sound. She stalks close enough to see them, not seeing any bucks among them; she feels relieved. She stalks towards them as close as she can get; one turns it¡¯s head towards her, spotting her; she lunges forward, chasing after it. She¡¯s able to accelerate faster than the deer, grabbing onto it''s rear with her talons, her claws digging deep into it¡¯s hide. The deer lets out a loud, painful grunt, her claws dragging deep along the deer¡¯s body, hitting an artery as the deer tries to struggle away, causing it to eventually bleed out. Her forelegs and chest are covered in blood. She bites down on it¡¯s neck, blood running down it and off it¡¯s hoof. She starts dragging it back to the pond where Losian is. She feels tempted to eat it, being very hungry herself, but decides because she gashed him with her claws, she should eat after him. She arrives back at the pond, finding Losian ugly crying while sitting up with his legs tucked to his chest, his forehead against his knees. She drags the body faster, wanting to go over and comfort him. ¡°Losian, please be alright. I brought you food; just finish crying first...¡± She feels herself start to waver, knowing he¡¯s crying over their father. He¡¯s crying too hard to respond to her. She ends up breaking down and crying with him, lying down, curling up beside him. Time passes. They eventually stop crying so hard. He had ended up lying his arms and head on top of her side, underneath her wing. ¡°Go eat; I need you to eat before me; I feel bad.¡± ¡°Okay...¡± He gets off of her, crawling over to the carcass, tearing apart the shoulder with his teeth, getting into the flesh of the deer. His hands and mouth become stained with blood; he looks savage as blood drips from his chin; She realizes she probably looks the same. It¡¯s risky to eat raw food like this, but she knows his immune system should be able to handle it, as the animal is still freshly killed. She stares longingly at the food, realizing her throat is dry, going over to the pond to drink. Suddenly, it gets colder; she hears Losian make an uncomfortable sound. She realizes that when it storms, it might snowstorm instead. ¡°It¡¯s that sage¡¯s fault!¡± He slams his fist into the carcass. She walks back over to him, ¡°I¡¯m worried; let¡¯s go find somewhere safe.¡± She steps over towards the carcass, biting down on it¡¯s neck, lifting it up; Losian grabs the lower half of the deer, lifting it up aswell. They start searching for shelter, with her leading them. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Snow starts to fall; Losian seems to be doing fine for now, but she knows he¡¯ll keep losing warmth faster than he can create it if they can¡¯t find shelter soon enough. Time passes, at late evening they find an alcove near a small rocky creek, big enough to fit both of them and their kill comfortably. It is wide in length but doesn¡¯t go very far back in comparison. They lay down together inside of it, Losian pressing against her for warmth. She feels her stomach growl, suddenly flinching as a large gust of wind brushes by. Losian begins eating again as she stares longingly at her kill. After a moment, he offers her the heart of the deer while eating it, outstretching his hand behind him - she liked this organ¡¯s taste. Her chest feels tight and fuzzy at this, taking the heart from his hand and into her maw. It tasted better than normal, for some reason. She rubs her head against the back of his affectionately as he continues eating. Time passes; he finishes eating his portion, looking like he feels full. ¡°Thanks, sister...¡± ¡°Mhm.¡± She embeds her claws into the carcass, pulling it to herself, then tearing into it, letting out a low, satisfied rumble as she begins eating. He presses himself harder against her side for warmth, lying down on his side, his back facing the alcove wall, lightly tugging her wing down to signal her to relax it and place it over him. She feels him hug onto her, his body relaxing. She finishes eating, sighing, then curling around him, drifting asleep. She jolts awake. It is the middle of the night, there is a large female dragon with scales white as snow; she is staring her down. She feels cold, shivering, though the snow had stopped and the weather had calmed. ¡°You, furred dragon and boy, have you seen a cold sage?¡± She feels intimidated by her presence. ¡°H-how do you know Losian is with me..? You can¡¯t even see him from behind me.¡± ¡°Forleosan?¡± He murmurs, pulling gently at her neck fur, wanting her to curl back around him for warmth. ¡°I feel what every flake he makes touches; so does he.¡± Her eyes widen in fear. ¡°Why did he stop? He was after us.¡± Her expression becomes confused. ¡°Mh? Why was he after you?¡± ¡°He killed our father, but our father killed his companions. He got really powerful when our father killed this one lady.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± She looks amused, almost satisfied. She feels Losian hold onto her tighter. ¡°Why are you talking about him?¡± ¡°Look up, Losian.¡± He sits up, still pressing close to her for warmth. He becomes speechless, his eyes widening. She looks amused at them. ¡°You two children remind me of something I want. I want to repay your father; if I find Sabio, I will send out snow to find you and then give you shelter in my clan. I¡¯ll train you in cold even if your soul¡¯s might be lesser, especially yours, furred dragon - you¡¯re just a smart animal.¡± She¡¯s too intimidated to retaliate - still offended. ¡°Tell me, where is he?¡± She replies, ¡°He¡¯s in a ruined tribal village; it¡¯s been like that all our lives.¡± She lifts up a talon, pointing towards the direction they came from. "It''s that way, I remember." The dragon turns around, taking off in that direction. The cold wind from her heavy flapping causes Losian to groan in discomfort, lying back down and pressing himself against her. She curls back around him, his grip relaxing after a moment. They fall asleep once more.
She feels herself waking up, surprised to feel him still clinging to her for warmth and still asleep. There is a thin layer of snow melting on the ground. She gazes at him under her wing as he lies there sleeping, realizing his scent has been different lately. She continues gazing at him, noticing a clear fluid coming out of his mouth - unlike spit. She feels concerned, pushing him gently with her talon. ¡°Losian, wake up.¡± ¡°H-humh..?!¡± He groans in pain as he feels his gash wounds flare up from moving, opening his mouth, causing clear fluid to pour out onto the ground and her talon. She flinches back, holding her fluid-soaked talon partially up. ¡°Are you alright?¡± ¡°Y-yeah?¡± He places his hand over his stomach, still in clear pain. ¡°I don¡¯t know; my mouth keeps doing that. I think dad said that¡¯s how Fiarum breathe fire when it¡¯s mixed with the fruit and air.¡± Both of their expressions become somber at the mention of their father. ¡°I miss him,¡± She says. They both sit there for a moment, reflecting. Losian goes over to the mostly eaten deer carcass, picking it up by it¡¯s back legs. ¡°I¡¯m gonna get rid of this.¡± Her head snaps up, her deep-thinking trance broken. She steps over to the head of the carcass, biting it¡¯s neck and lifting it up. They carry it far away from their alcove, fearful a predator might find it near them. Once they place the carcass down, she speaks, ¡°Why don¡¯t we try to look for the plant that lets you breathe fire on the way back?¡± ¡°He said that they have dark red and look like a large berry with leathery skin. But wild ones are smaller than what the Fiarum had.¡± ¡°I remember, Losian.¡± They start walking back, looking around. He speaks, ¡°Should we hunt again?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. The dragon from last night might come back.¡± She pauses, still searching for the berry. ¡°I got lucky yesterday when hunting. Oh, what if you spit fire to hunt?¡± ¡°I still hurt when I walk, because of you. It would burn it alive anyway.¡± He sounds slightly angry. ¡°Sorry, I was upset and scared.¡± She stops. ¡°Is that it?¡± She asks, lifting her talon towards a bush. He walks over to it, squatting down, plucking a large, dark red berry from the bush. ¡°It feels like it is.¡± He grabs a few more, ending up with five in his arms. ¡°Where should we try it?¡± ¡°Over a pond? Or you can spit a small amount into a firepit?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go back and make a firepit.¡± He says, standing up, walking again. She follows after him. They arrive back; it¡¯s midday, the sky had become cloudy. ¡°Let¡¯s do it here.¡± He points to the ground, shuffling aside the leaves with his foot to reveal stone ground. ¡°Alright.¡± She starts grabbing sticks from around the area with her jaw, piling them together, as Losian continues brushing away the leaves. Eventually, they finish. She feels the temperature getting colder. Losian grabs one of the fruits, chewing it thoroughly. She backs away, watching him. He spits the full amount in a powerful stream, the liquid igniting right as it leaves his mouth. It hits the large firepit, some of it splashing off of larger sticks. The fire struggles to burn from the snow dampening the wood, instead causing smoke to be made. It begins to snow again. ¡°She¡¯s coming back, Losian.¡± He picks up a fruit, but doesn¡¯t chew it. She looks worriedly at him, sensing his intentions. ¡°Losian, don¡¯t-¡± She is cut off by a loud roar in the distance. She sees him beginning to chew the fruit. She waits for the roar to fade away so she can speak clearly again. She hears the white-scaled dragon land behind her. Losian picks up two berries in each hand, running at them, spitting fire, aiming at Sabio, immediately chewing another fruit. The dragon roars, dodging the fire. Sabio clings onto her neck. ¡°You¡¯re making a mistake, boy.¡± The cold becomes intense. Losian falls, letting out a pitiful cry, curling into himself desperately for warmth. ¡°I¡¯m repaying your father by not killing you.¡± Forleosan rushes over to him, laying on top of him in an attempt to keep him warm. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I tried to stop him!¡± She says frantically, shivering. It stops snowing, the cold becoming less intense. ¡°You children are the reason I have something back, which I wanted very much. Get on my back; he¡¯ll hold onto Sabio, and you¡¯ll be carried in my mouth.¡± "I don¡¯t want to hold onto him!" He yells, struggling up, pushing her off of him. She lowers her voice, stepping towards him, her head lowered to his. ¡°I don¡¯t care. You¡¯re going to do what I say, or I¡¯ll kill you.¡± She feels her chest tighten in fear. Reluctantly, he walks over to her, jumping up and climbing onto her back, inching over to Sabio, looking to the side as he has to wrap his arms around his torso for stability. Forleosan walks infront of her, letting herself be picked up in her jaw. The dragon lifts off, her wings scattering the leaves and blowing away the firepit they had made. Once she¡¯s high enough, she catches a wind current, gliding in the air. Hours pass, midday turns into evening, the sky eventually clears again. In the light, they can see her features clearly. She¡¯s a little less than two men tall. Her scales are mixing shades of mostly whites and some light greys. Her underbelly is light grey with plates on her chest. Her eyes are brown. Her horns are white and slanted back; they curve up slightly at the ends; each horn has a decorated gold ring around them right above the base. Her wing webbing is mixing shades of light grey. Nearing nightfall they arrive at the village. Below them are several minka style houses and buildings. There are areas surrounded by stone walls, separating them by clans. Some of the clans are much further off from the main village - not having any walls. The main village is built right infront of the cliffside of a tall hill. On top of the hill is a large area surrounded with finer looking stone walls. It is actively guarded unlike the rest of the village. She lands inside the walls of the clan, infront of a large building. She sets Forleosan down, Losian jumping off her back, away from Sabio, rushing over to her for warmth, shivering heavily. Banners on the side of the stone wall that overlook the village are heard unfurling, they depict her infront of a pine tree with a light grey background, there several young dragons around her for each clan. Two guards with spears in hand and swords at their sides stand infront of a large sliding door with square patterns on it; they suddenly straighten up at her arrival. "Muraji-Ceald, you''ve returned. Nothing of major importance happened while you were gone... Where should we take these guests?" "They sleep in the unused rooms." She sounds incredibly tired. "These guests should be considered part of this clans top branch family, tell the other clans." One of the guards walk off, the other opens the large sliding door. Inside there is a large open space, the walls are white-ish yellow with a large painting of finely drawn tundra wilderness on the back wall; the rest of the walls have dark brown crossing wooden planks as supports, there are multiple windows that have drawings on white-ish yellow of the tundra on them aswell with no overlapping supports. The room is lit up by lanterns. A stone hearth-fire is embedded in the wall, which Losian walks quickly over to, she follows after him. There is a stairway leading up, the floors get slightly smaller after each other, there are three levels to the building. The second floor has an open area in the front, the open area is a forth as big as downstairs, there are two large sliding doors in the back, and two sliding windows in the front. The windows both have a drawing of a pine forest; the doors both have a drawing of a river going through a pine forest. The top floor is large bedroom with different areas to it, the sliding door is right infront of the end of the stairway which opens into it. The large bed is given privacy by a couple of shoji. "You both sleep in either room, I don''t care... Sabio get off my back, oh, you''re too frail - you fuckin runaway..." Her speaking starts to slur. She suddenly pushes herself up onto her hindlegs, causing Sabio to fall off. "Ow..." He sounds soft and pitiful, sitting upright and curling his legs to his chest. Her tail starts swishing arrhythmically. "Neither of you kids go to the top floor, ever... I''m gonna - I''m gonna do something to Sabio... hah..." "Please, Ceald, is this how you honor your friendship with my mother..?" She looks at Losian, confused, he looks back at her, just as confused. "Is this how you... how you treat the only thing that doesn''t manipulate you..? And loves you..? So, so, much..." She huffs a laugh, lowering her head close to his. He remains silent. "Three days awake I spent looking for you." She picks him up by his robe in her jaw, carrying him like a kitten, taking him to the top floor. Losian seems to not care too much, laying down by the fire, falling asleep quickly. She lays behind him, falling asleep aswell.