As Drakon felt the hands on his shoulder, the instinct was still alive and burning. His bloody fist turned quickly with murderous rage. Drakon stood mid-punch, a few inches away from his protector's face. Then that was when it happened. The collapse of Drakon's body falls into Adra. Tears flooded his eyes. Dried blood on his face. The smear of blood streaked down his cheeks. [color=#008e02]"I couldn't save her....I couldn't save her...I was too slow..." [/color]The utter sense of failing pulled Drakon down as if a heavy anchor was diving into the open waters. Drakon sat there in Adra's arms for what felt like centuries. Drakon wiped what tears were left and slowly got up from the ground and walked like the dead over toward the lifeless carcass of a dragon. He wabbled and came down to his knees and placed his hands on the mother dragon protecting her children. [color=#008e02]"I'm sorry...." [/color]he spoke softly.
Drakon eye's slid over to the batch of eggs that were still under a flame. The lingering and overwhelming thought was what to do with the eggs of this dragon. It called out to him. He knew nothing about how to handle situations. He once heard his father talk about a lost tradition of riding a dragon, companionship. But it was so old that the books and teachings were somehow lost in time. Drakon's eyes clicked. An opportunity to prove he was capable. A worthy son. He will be the one who finds these lost traditions. He will prove his father wrong. Drakon slowly approached the eggs and rubbed his hands along the hard shells of the eggs. Hard aspects. Rigid and smooth in some places. Different colors of eggs. Browns, blacks. [color=#008e02]"You will live....I promise.." [/color]
Drakon eye's slid over to the batch of eggs that were still under a flame. The lingering and overwhelming thought was what to do with the eggs of this dragon. It called out to him. He knew nothing about how to handle situations. He once heard his father talk about a lost tradition of riding a dragon, companionship. But it was so old that the books and teachings were somehow lost in time. Drakon's eyes clicked. An opportunity to prove he was capable. A worthy son. He will be the one who finds these lost traditions. He will prove his father wrong. Drakon slowly approached the eggs and rubbed his hands along the hard shells of the eggs. Hard aspects. Rigid and smooth in some places. Different colors of eggs. Browns, blacks. [color=#008e02]"You will live....I promise.." [/color]
04-10-2023, 04:29 PM
