Maea
Beware the darkness of dragons,
Beware the stalker of dreams,
Beware the stalker of dreams,
She was beginning to realize that she was in over her head here. Despite their similar sizes, the griffin was proving both faster and stronger than her, turning what had seemed like skillful dodging into lucky exceptions. He caught up so fast, and this time she wasn't able to dodge. A sharp beak nipped painfully at the wing joint, gliding across hard scales without drawing blood but certainly bruising tendons and ligaments. Instinct kicked in, telling her to roll away from the claws that followed - but again she wasn't fast enough, and this time the griffin struck true.
Blood steamed as it hit the cool air. Splattering into the sea, staining salt-coated rocks and dying talons a vibrant crimson, the dragon faltered in the air even as a roar of agony erupted from its throat. The fire did nothing as it washed over her - she was resistant to it, and would have enjoyed the heat at any other time - but it didn't have to. The wing wouldn't bear her properly; even as she drew taloned hind legs up against her belly to kick the griffin away from her, the dragon found herself falling, half tumbling and half flying downwards toward a wave-tossed skerry that wasn't quite large enough to hold her - but it would have to do. The shift was already slipping from her grasp; too much blood was leaving her veins and too much pain clouded her thoughts to maintain it - and if she fell into the sea, that would be it for Maea Valair.
4/4
Blood steamed as it hit the cool air. Splattering into the sea, staining salt-coated rocks and dying talons a vibrant crimson, the dragon faltered in the air even as a roar of agony erupted from its throat. The fire did nothing as it washed over her - she was resistant to it, and would have enjoyed the heat at any other time - but it didn't have to. The wing wouldn't bear her properly; even as she drew taloned hind legs up against her belly to kick the griffin away from her, the dragon found herself falling, half tumbling and half flying downwards toward a wave-tossed skerry that wasn't quite large enough to hold her - but it would have to do. The shift was already slipping from her grasp; too much blood was leaving her veins and too much pain clouded her thoughts to maintain it - and if she fell into the sea, that would be it for Maea Valair.
4/4
Beware the talons of power and fire,
Beware one who is not what she seems.
Beware one who is not what she seems.
