The Common Sense of Survival

The Common Sense of Survival

Many feet pounded the ground. Dragons of all shapes and sizes tore through branches, bushes, and ferns. I could smell the sharp scent of torn leaves and blood. I did not see who they were chasing or why.

I slunk along the upper branches of the towering trees. The patrol below did not hear or see me, as all of their senses were trained on the one who raced just a few yards ahead of them.

Branches swayed as I leaped through the trees.Normally, I  had no hope of outrunning a dragon. However, they were slowed down by the tangling vines and snagging thorns. I could run as well as a squirrel through the treetops.

I caught up with the one in the lead. He was smaller, skinnier than the others. Purple scales flashed as he wove between the trunks and leaped easily over bushes and fallen logs. He looked like a snake.

I didn’t like it. I was unsure of the feeling that welled in my belly, but it felt like I was about to watch a hatchling die, or a good piece of food get stolen by crows. My claws itched to say something, or to do something. But what?

“Move,” I growled, loud enough for the injured dragon to hear me.

The purple dragon looked up in surprise, but his turquoise gaze missed me. He did not wait to see me, but continued on, pushing through the undergrowth. The bushes were beginning to thin out, but the trees grew steadily thicker. It was getting harder for him to slip through.

“East,” I hissed, following his progress. The stream marked the beginning of man’s territory. No dragon dared live so close, so he would be safe.

He heeded my word and veered eastward. All the while, I could hear the slavering jaws of his hunters. I knew not what they wanted, but I did not want to know. The clicking of claws and baring of teeth told me all I needed to know.


The large wolf with antlers had fallen into the spiked pit. I knew this because I saw it with my own eyes.

For some reason, it almost felt sad that she met such a bloody end. She was a powerful hunter, one who could take on a dragon. However, I felt no shame in the deed. There is nothing shameful about destroying something that hunted you.

The salt water burns the deep bite wound that I had received. Neffin once told me that salt was good for wounds and kept out infection. He also said marigold and horsetail could keep out infections, but I do not see any. Perhaps there is some deeper inland.

The second round ended hardly an hour ago, giving Nova and I little time to rest. The small angry glow lizard took off as soon as Intelligence let us out. She so far has refused to talk to me.

Of course, I’m not going to argue with her. She left me to die or be eaten by Marlo. She did not deserve to share words with me, and I had no reason to speak with her.

My wounds eventually stop stinging, and I deem it safe to leave the water. My stomach growls painfully, so I head out in search for food. Food and marigold. Those are the things that I need.

Other creatures lay in the sun and lick their wounds. They do not scare me anymore, and they do not attack me. I wonder who I will fight, and my stomach turns. I no longer wish to fight. My body is sore and bloody. I wish to return home even if I still lack the prize.
What is the prize of life anyway? I am alive, aren’t I? Why should I risk death for something I already have?

Or is it a prize to give to another? Do I have any spirits I wish to resume their lives?

No, no. Neffin once spoke of death as a doorway to another life. He knew that some tried to raise those at peace and said that it was an insult to that creature’s life. So no. Even if I did have one who’s passed, I would not drag them from their other life.

The palm trees wave overhead as I root among some ferns. I cannot recall what marigold looks like, but I do find a mouse as it scurries across my path. A quick nip to its spine ends the journey and I snap it up with a lazy mutter of thanks.

Nearby, there is a plant with rich green leaves and roundish golden flowers. I do not recall marigold growing in such places, but I do not question. The gods can do what they like.

I chew the leaves as Neffin once taught me. They taste bitter and sharp on my tongue, so I am quite ready to spit it out. The sloppy spit covers my wounds and slides down my battered green scales. I do not know if I’m supposed to see or feel something, but  I decide that the remedy has worked.

I find Nova by the stream when I go to drink. She has a long piece of seaweed wrapped firmly around her injured leg and her eyes are alight with fury. I can hear her mutter dark things as she looks at me, and I fear that she will use that power beam of hers.

However, she simply looks away and plunges her head into the water. Taking this as a sign of tolerance, I walk to the stream’s edge and slate my thirst.

“Ah, Nova and Dragon,”

My muzzle drips icy water as I turn to see the odd creature before me. It is small and has large eyes and ears. Its voice is soft and female, and many twitching whiskers align her face. I recall her name like a memory of something long since passed.

“Senses,” Nova growls, and I fear that she may pounce on the whiskered goddess.

“The third round begins tonight.” she tells us. “You will be hunting a creature called a jackalope. You must bring it to me either dead or alive, it doesn’t matter to me, though if it’s alive, you’ll have to deal with it. The jackalope’s fur is a light cream color.”

Senses turns to head back as Nova speaks.

“What the hell is a jackalope?” she demands, looking irritated at the world.

“A sort of rabbit with antlers,” Senses replies. “I will see you tonight.”

I turn to look at Nova and she glares back.

“You betrayed me,” I growl.

“I did what I had to,” Nova replies slowly. “This is a competition of survival, right?”

A growl rises in my throat and I wish to rake my claws across her face, to mar the glow that shrouds her like fog. I wish I could bite until she screams or -

I take several steps back, heart pounding in surprise. What were these thoughts? Black thoughts, dark like Tally, ugly as death. Was it not thoughts like these that fueled Nova to kill the way she does?

“Have a change of heart?” Nova sneers before flinching as some unseen force turns her head to the side.

“Yes,” I say honestly, padding away. I do not explain, but she does not deserve an explanation.

The sand is warm and soothes my aching body. Creatures both big and small wander about, looking for food or caring for injuries. I remain sitting beside one of the trees. My body is tired and still longs for rest, but my eyes are restless.

Therefore, I watch. It is astounding how few now walk the beaches. Hardly a few days ago, the beach was crowded with creatures as they milled about. Now, there are only a few, some gathered in groups of two, and others sitting alone. I wonder what happens to those who lose and live.

The sun sinks into the ocean, touching the water to flames. I sleep, closing my eyes to midday and opening them to sunset. Nova does not join me, but remains near the stream. I do not know what she does, but also do not care. She may do what she likes.
Dusk settles like a cold pelt and slowly the beach empties. All head to Senses’ arena like birds flocking south.

It is time for me to flock with them.

Sand shifts and eventually gives way as the night closes in. Nova is easily seen as she limps heavily with the crowd. Her eyes are fixed straight ahead as she growls obscenities under her breath. If she weren’t such a demonic creature I would have felt pity for her. However, seeing as she is what she is, I do not bother showing pity.

“Welcome, survivors,” Senses calls, grabbing everyone’s attention. “And now, the arena.”

Brambles twist and retreat, revealing a hole in a massive thorny barrier. The sparse vegetation gives way to a field of flowing grass.
Eyes bright with wonder at the wide open space, every competitor slips into the shadowy grass that reaches well over the heads of many. Nova snarls and lashes her tail as she falls into step with me.

“Keep your eyes open,” She mutters, eyes on the other competitors. “Something’s up. It can’t be this easy.” I stride ahead, grass whispering against my wings as Nova continues to gripe. “And what’s with the people in front of -”

It hits me like a wave or a spear or an arrow.

My eyes widen as scents, sounds, sights, blur my mind. The scent of humid air and panic, the taste of sweet grass and fear. Claws scrape, jaws snap, paws beat the ground. On every side grass whispers and rakes, small plants stab my paws. I see the gold of the plants, the dark blue of the sky, the silver of moonlight.

“What the hell?” Nova hisses.

Light dark, scent, sound, stone, grass, air.

“Dragon?”

Panic, confusion, dark, creatures.

“Crap, this is not a time for you to wig out,”

Scents, running, panic.

“Damn it, you oversized -”

Whoosh.

My wings unfold and I am in the air, soaring above the arena. My nose burns and the air presses against my head. I can hear the voices below as well as the soft thud of footsteps. I see bodies weave dark rivers through the swaying grass. Up here, the scent does no addle my brain as much even though the sound of air is beginning to hurt my head.

“You search from above,” Nova called, looking both mad and relieved. “I’ll find the thing on the ground.”

There is no point in arguing; my senses are stronger than hers. She will not be as affected by the power of this place.

I swoop low, the moonlight turning my scales to silver. I would prefer to remain high in the air, but as soon as my wings carry me out of scent range, I cannot distinguish competitor from prey.

The arena itself is huge, surrounded by trees and then thorns. It is hard to see what is going on below, but I don’t dare land for fear of the overwhelming fog of.... of... senses...

I circle the arena for a second time when I notice Nova, hot on the heels of something just a dragon’s tail length ahead of her. While I do not trust her judgement in anything, I do not have time to stop and question what she is doing.

My dive is timed to that I can crush whatever is streaking through the grass. It is small, and is hard to see from above, but rabbits are small, and hard to see. This one is different, I can tell at first scent. And yet, rabbit is rabbit. I know how to hunt these.
Claws splayed, I drop down on my unsuspecting prey....

Which dodges around my outstretched claws and continues to bound away, heading for the thicket.

“Damn it!” Nova snarls, a hair too loudly for my poor wind battered ears. Her injured leg slows her as she hobbles around me in pursuit of the creature.

Scent and sound begins to pulse in my head so I take off again, flying low and fast. Cold air replaces the jumble of scents and rushing wind blocks the noise.

The rabbit leaps and swerves as all rabbits do, and through the grass I can see it’s gray flecked pelt. It feels like an eternity since I last had rabbit and my stomach growls for the taste of meat.

It heads for the trees where the grass is less thick. Nova is lagging behind, but I catch up easily and dive once again, this time I know I will not miss. Everything but my prey blurs as I focus in on the kill.

However, as the cream colored creature makes a mad dash fro the shelter of the trees, I falter.

Yes, it is a rabbit with horns. But when Senses said that, I did not expect this.

I bank sharply, my shoulders screeching in pain. The rabbit, or jackalope makes a circle and then races back into the grass.
Back in the forest, these creatures are rare. They are a dying breed because humans believe they have power or some such nonsense. While I am quite capable of killing and eating a normal rabbit, I cannot bring myself to end this one. It is a crime to slay a creature like this, and I would rather risk my neck in the heart of Derdant than kill a jackalope and look Neffin in the eye.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Nova gasps as she limps out of the trees and flops to the ground. I land at her side, deciding we are far enough away for me to be unaffected by the myriad of scents and sounds. I am right and wrong. My head is still pounding, but here, it is more manageable.

“Can’t kill,” I tell her.

“I already know your an incompetent worm but you really can’t kill that thing?”

“Won’t kill,” I corrected myself.

“Damn it, Dragon!” Nova snarls and shakes her head. We both winced at her loud voice. “We are in this stupid competition to win. To survive. I do’t care what kind of go green garbage is keeping you from hunting that thing, but if you don’t then we’re finished and might as well feed ourselves to Tooth and Claw.”

I think about that. “No need to kill. Just retrieve.”

“Yes, but the damn thing runs like the wind,” Nova snaps. “How are we supposed to get it to Senses if it’s not dead?”

“Chase,” I growl, trying to hear myself over the din and yet not rattle my ears.

Nova’s bright eyes light like flames and she nods in understanding. I disagree with her mindset, might even hate her. If I thought Tally was dark, then Nova is black. Black as sin, black as death, black as the darkest night. Yet, she is still right. If we are to win, we must work together.

I return to the sky, blocking all noise and smell until I could trace the subtle scent of grain and warmth. The jackalope may be quick and darting, but straight on, I am faster. I will find it first.

Nova tracks from the round as I circle, seeing the tiny creature as it hared very close to another competitor. At first I pay little heed, but my claws tighten as the creature does not brush off the jackalope’s presence but races in pursuit.

Perhaps I should have guessed it before. We have an opponent.

The thing is big, though not as big as Marlo was. He has antlers and big floppy black wings that flap madly as he runs. One eye glows blue while the other is dim, and something glowing waves from his tail.

Nova is struggling to steer the jackalope in the direction of Senses. She is already injured and would not fight well. However she is close to our opponent; very close.

A flicker of thought burned in my mind and I was tempted to remain in the air and watch. It was only fair, was it not? She left me to one antlered dog, I should leave her to another. Fair is fair.

And yet, the thought makes my mind burn, and the image of the rabbit I once tortured flashes in my mind. I cannot leave her.
Despite her injuries, Nova attacks. Her claws flash with light as she leaps onto the creature’s back. He howls and bares his teeth. Those false wings flap madly, almost shaking Nova off, but her massive talons hold firm.

I dive, aiming my claws at our opponent. I am hardly a tail length when something shiny and blue swings very close to my muzzle.
I swipe at it, only for the thing to flick away again. My paws slap against the ground and my eyes fill with the light of the thing. I bat at the glowing orb, trying to catch it and trap it against the ground. The smells overwhelm my mind and my chase becomes more frantic; something bad may happen if I fail to pin this thing.

“AIIEEEEEEE!!!!”

Nova screams as she is tossed to the side and lands heavily on her injured leg. The bright thing leaves and I am able to see again. The big wolf has some sort of glowing stone on the end of his tail. His antlers gleam and his lip curls. Black fur ripples over muscle as he sizes me up and growls low in his throat.

“I am a savagekin!” He growled. “I will not lose to a mangy lizard like you!”

His paws slam into my flank, forcing the air from my lungs. I do not know what Nova does, but I suppose she slinks off as I rake my claws across the savagekin’s belly. Fur comes loose in clumps and it is hard to tell whether I broke the skin.

Teeth sink into my shoulders again and I howl, no longer trying to attack but get away. At close range like this, the creature’s scent is overwhelming, blurring my mind and burning my nose. His growls and snarls fill my head and claws score across my flank. I am on my back, pinned against the earth as the powerful jaws clamp around the back of my neck and shake me dizzy.

I land in a heap a few feet away. The savagekin is standing above me, towering over my injured body. His scent is fresh all around me, and the force of it is too much. A heaving retch shudders through my body and the mouse that I ate returns in the form of odd colored mush. The taste scalds my tongue though not as much so as my opponent’s stench.

“Die, demon,”

I flinch, expecting pain when a blast of light blinds my eyes and sends the dog tumbling off his feet.
I scramble to my paws, as Nova turns tail and chases after the jackalope even though its trail is practically impossible to find in the jumble of scents and sounds.

“We have to find that damned rabbit!” Nova pants. Her eyes are bright, not with malice, but pain. She flinches with every jarring step and I can smell the scent of fear.

“I fly,” I tell her. “You....” I wondered what to call the thing she does. “You.... glow.”

Nova grimaces but nods her head. “I can only do that for so long, you know.”

I take flight in search of the jackalope. I am determined to let it survive, but I may no longer have that option. It is no longer about winning, but survival.

But wasn’t it about that from the beginning?

It is not as bad in the air, but I can still smell every creature in the arena. I am afraid to stop flying and face the wall of scents and sound, but I cannot find the rabbit without my senses. I cannot track my prey by sight alone, especially in a place like this.

Land touches my claws and my wings fold painfully. I am unsure if I can fly again. I have been bitten twice and still have the remnants of infection flowing in my blood.

I let my mind settle despite the pain of so many scents and sounds. I need to focus. Neffin told me that when the world is spun the other way and the sky falls to the ground, you must focus. A battle is not always fought with tooth and claws, but also with the mind. I have never fought with my mind, but now is a good time to try.

My eyes close and my senses range out, searching for one small creature among many. I can hear the struggles of a nearby fight, can smell the heady scent of fear. I dig deeper to hear the pounding footsteps of a large creature and the lighter footsteps of a rabbit.
Was it ours?
 No, no. Senses played a dirty trick on us competitors. She told us to find a particular jackalope. She never told us that there are more than one.

Snarling, I recall the scent of the light colored creature. It is hard with so many scents curling like claws up my spine and raking across my nose.

There.

I hear the light pattering steps, can smell the soft scent of milk and grass. The jackalope is not far. It is standing near the trees again, not moving, but very alert.

My wings are stiff and sore, making it hard to fly. I decide to save flight for later as I slowly make my way to where my prey has so foolishly stopped. I have promised that I will not kill the rare creature, but that does not mean I can’t knock it out.
As soon as my eyes settle on the short cream fur, the jackalope takes off, sprinting into the trees.

I dive into the trees the same way as I have been doing for years. The rabbit squeaks and runs, terrified of my pursuit. It darts and dives, swerving round and round. At this rate I may never catch up or even stand a chance at catching it. It is faster than a regular rabbit. It is frightened, as all small creatures should be.

It is the eternal dance of hunter and prey.
But must it be so?

I am not trying to hunt for food, but to return home with the rabbit. Why does it fear me so? Aye, therein lies the answer. My intentions are good, but the jackalope doesn’t know that. I do not speak in its tongue, but surely the creature can understand the language of gestures.

I halt in my chase and painstakingly land. Smells continue to assault me on every side and it takes great focus to follow the rabbit’s trail. I am unsure on how to do this. I am a hunter. Hunting comes easy to me. This is not an ordinary hunt. Here, the thoughts of my prey matter, and the fear must dissipate if I am to succeed.

Chrrrrr. Chrrrrrrrrrr. The sound vibrates in the back of my throat and resonates much like a cat’s purr. It is a sound made when around friends or content. Perhaps it will put the smaller creature at ease.

“Safe,” I say, trying not to growl. I think of the red dragon’s voice and how it flowed like water over river stones. It was not as sharp and harsh as Tally’s, though not as smooth as what I hope to achieve.

I hear the scuffle of paws against earth. The jackalope has halted and is hiding beneath some nearby bushes. I too grow still and try to calm my mind. My nose is tormented by the endless wave of scents, and my ears have trouble closing to the distant noise.

I wonder briefly on how Nova is fending against our opponent. I hope she can delay his arrival. He is large and strong while I am injured and weak. I do not have the same power that Nova can bend to her will, and thus cannot rely on a ranged attack.

Leaves rustle as a quivering flank shifts. I do not move, thinking of a day where the roles were in reversed, and I was the one hiding while a larger hunter stalked above.

“Hello?”
He had caught up with me. His claws were anxiously tearing at the dirt and his voice betrayed his worry.

“Is anyone here?”

I remained under a bush, not daring to move nor speak nor hardly breathe. Fear paralyzed my limbs and nearly kept my heart from beating.

I waited for him to move on or track me by scent. However, he did not move. I heard him sit among the damp leaves and debris. As I waited for him to strike or depart, he lifted a paw and proceeded to clean the dirt from between his claws.

The inactivity burned at my scales and begged my tail to twitch. I had to move. The dragon must have known I was there by then. If he wanted to kill me, he would have already done so, right?

Heart stuttering with fear, I ignored the ancient laws of nature. The fine line that separated dragons and drakes dissolved for that flickering moment, and for the first time, we looked each other in the eye without contempt or resentment..

I took a step forward.

As my mind wandered about the world of the past, the bush quivers again. A pale cream hide appears along with large amber eyes and a twitching nose. I can almost hear the frantic heartbeat as the small creature takes step after tentative step toward me.

“Safe,” I repeat quietly, folding my front limbs so I am smaller. “You. Are. Safe.”

The tiny nose twitches and a few more hopping steps are taken. Large ears swivel towards me, capturing every word. I do not know if it understands, but perhaps it is the tone that matters.

The rabbit is close, but not close enough for me to safely secure it. Of course, if I wanted its alliance, I’d have to tread lightly. If the rabbit escapes, and can try to catch it again. Once it’s trust has fled, there is no hope of it returning.

I take a step forward.

This is the wrong move to make. The jackalope freezes and tries to turn and run. However, the antlers that curve gracefully from the fuzzy head are tangled hopelessly into the bush. It shakes and trembles with fear as I slowly approach the startled and trapped creature.

I could take it now and return to Senses. I could win now.

And yet, I get the feeling of giving up on something that has yet to begin. What if Neffin gave up on me? Where would I be now?
I would not be in some gods forsaken competition.

But then, I would also be the same as every other drake, without mind or thought. I have spent many seasons rising above the rest of my kin.

My claws shake as they approach the twisting branches. The jackalope shakes as my claw tips snag the constricting twigs and snap them easily. Leaves fall to the ground and bark glances off of my scales.

“Safe,” I say once more, removing the last article that held the furred animal prisoner.

Even with the raging noises of other hunts, a sense of quiet settles over the area. The rabbit hesitates, his eyes flicking between me and the trees.

The decision has yet to be made when I hear the barreling of a large creature crash through the grass. The scent of the savagekin floats in on a poisonous breeze and the jackalope gives me one last terrified glance before taking several steps back.

“You’ll pay for this!”

The black antler dog is covered in burns. Large and small, they reach down to skin and flesh, filling the air of burnt fur and feathers. His wings are still intact, and his face seems alright. He is still perfectly capable of baring his fangs in a furious snarl.

“Run!” I say, though I am not speaking to the growling savagekin. Not wasting any time, the rabbit darts through a gap between two bushes and disappears.

“Nooo!”

All I see is black. Black fur clogs my nose, black feathers get sucked into my mouth. Black claws tear at my sides, black wings block my view of the sky.

I can feel blood pool at my side and I wonder again where Nova is.

With a heart stopping pang of realization, I wonder if she is dead. If the last thing she saw was this hulking mass of black, the last thing she smelled was the choking smog of burnt fur and sweat and blood.

And yet, I still fight. Tooth on tooth, claw on claw, wing on wing. I block the path with my body, knowing that if he catches the rabbit, all is lost for me and Nova. He must not pass. I have failed before and I cannot do it again.

But I am weak and hurt.  While also injured, the creature, the monster, is bigger and far stronger.

It’s like feeling you are about to de and fearing you won’t.

And suddenly it’s over.

I am left laying on my back, surrounded by my own blood. Deep gashes and bites mark my sides and my wings are near useless as the main muscles have severe bites. The savagekin lopes away without a backward glance.

It takes time, but I drag myself to my feet. A sense of hopelessness fills my chest as I think of what will happen when the savagekin succeeds. I wonder what will happen to the jackalope.

As I limp away from the scene of gore and pain, the bushes rustle once again. Fear fills my mind at the thought of another merciless attack, but it is not my opponent.

It is the jackalope.

Large eyes meet mine, and though we speak different tongues, we come to an understanding. It does not trust me yet, but it knows the rules of survival just as well as I do. It is certain that I will not harm it.

The two of us walk slowly back to the entrance. Every step hurts, and blood splashes the ground from a bad gash across my ribs. The jackalope hops at my side, just barely out of reach.

My head is pounding with the scents and sounds that surround us as soon as we return tot he heart of the arena. I do not stop to search for Nova, but it is more out of necessity than malice. If I can, I will search when this is over.

Along the way, I find soft moss clinging to nearby trees. My wings clamp the moss to my sides and keep the remaining blood within my body. Hopefully I can find something better outside the arena.

There it is.

The end is near, close enough for me to scent the strange goddess of Senses. I see the bright yellowish fur and twitching whiskers.
“Close,” I say, glancing at the jackalope.

The rabbit nods.

We are very close when the furious roar explodes behind us.

“Not so fast!”

The savagekin has returned and charges, black wings spread wide. He lifts off and pursues us, traveling far faster than I can even hope to manage.

But I must try.

The jackalope squeaks in alarm as I grab it gently in my jaws. I force my legs to move, and though I am far from graceful, I manage to run for Senses.

The savagekin is close behind, gaining on me every second. I can hear is heavy panting and smell his hot breath as we charge toward the entrance. My neck is bent with the effort of holding the jackalope, but I don’t dare stop.

The will to survive fuels my limbs even as more blood splashes to the ground.

I can feel it when I cross the invisible barrier that marks the end of the arena.

My heart pounds fit to burst, blood weeps from wounds, pain wracks my body. My limbs shake as I skid to a halt before the goddess of Senses and gracelessly drop the jackalope to the ground at her feet. The cream colored ball of fur looks nervous to be in the presence of so many creatures but does not flee.

“Interesting,” Senses says, her segmented gaze flicking between Louis and I. “Congratulations Dragon. Louis, if you will please follow Tooth and Claw when he gets here.”

The black creature growls, looking both furious and defeated. His form blurs before my eyes and at first I believe it is due to the weakening of my senses.

That is, until my head hits the ground and everything goes black.

“That’s why those brutes were chasing me,” The purple dragon sighed. “They have their heads stuffed so tightly with tradition and custom that there’s no longer room for intelligence.”

I tipped my head to the side. he was a strange one, this dragon. He more resembled a prey creature than the other lumbering hunters. Fast, nimble, and equip with the intelligence to evade his pursuers.

And yet something was different. He seemed to trust me rather than look down on me. Such an odd dragon!

“You’re different,” the dragon told me. “I know that dragons to you are as merciless as they are to me, but I want you to know that I’m different too. And, well, at the moment, I’m alone in an unknown territory. Can I ask you to join me? I don’t know why, but I think we have a lot of things we need to learn from each other.”

This surprised me. I have wanted nothing more than to be different. But to join a dragon?

“What do you say?” The dragon prodded, eyes shining through the weariness.

I did not need to think long. “Yes,”

The purple dragon grinned. “That’s great! My name’s Neffin, by the way. What’s yours?”

Such a question requires more thought than the previous one. Drakes do not typically have names. And if one does, it is usually something that describes them like Green, or Tall, or Scarred. I have never needed a name, and thus did not have one. So what described me?

A though bright and beautiful burns in my mind as I look up and mimic what could be called a smile.

“Dragon,” I told him.