Sand from Hak Etme, he had been told. So to the desert Tal went, and in spite of the freedom and joy he usually felt when piloting the Peregrine - when it was just him and Boreal and the open sky - a scowl carved deeper and deeper lines into his face as they neared their destination.
At least thanks to his skyboat he didn't have to trek over miles and miles of sand and stone and bones this time, and the Leafchange days weren't quite as brutal as those of Longheat had been. The courier sailed through the night with the stars as his guide, and then waited for the first light of false dawn to begin illuminating the Boneyard below before he found a safe place to bring the tiny flying ship down and threw out the ground anchor. Boreal, a glacier-pale dragon with the heavy build of a mastiff and the height of a great dane, circled down to make sure the anchor was firmly lodged in the eye socket of some behemoth's skull before Tal threw the rope ladder overboard and scampered down it. The dragon then bounded over to catch the bottom rung in her teeth and fly it back to the boat, securing the ship against most unpleasantly unwanted passengers that might try to crawl, slither, or scurry their way to the deck.
"C'mon, girl. Sooner we get this over with, th'better," Tal murmured to his companion, glaring around at the grey sand as it was slowly lightening to gold, as if it had knocked him down and stolen his lunch money as a child. His shoulder-length dark hair was roughly pulled back and secured with a leather tie and his sun-browned skin was visible beneath a black vest and undyed linen shirt. Strangest of all, perhaps, were the tinted snow goggles that he wore over his eyes in spite of the darkness of the early morning as he struck out confidently across the hardpan, seeking the item he'd been sent to find, Dagger in hand against the local predators that roamed the Boneyard... both above and below the desert's surface.
At least thanks to his skyboat he didn't have to trek over miles and miles of sand and stone and bones this time, and the Leafchange days weren't quite as brutal as those of Longheat had been. The courier sailed through the night with the stars as his guide, and then waited for the first light of false dawn to begin illuminating the Boneyard below before he found a safe place to bring the tiny flying ship down and threw out the ground anchor. Boreal, a glacier-pale dragon with the heavy build of a mastiff and the height of a great dane, circled down to make sure the anchor was firmly lodged in the eye socket of some behemoth's skull before Tal threw the rope ladder overboard and scampered down it. The dragon then bounded over to catch the bottom rung in her teeth and fly it back to the boat, securing the ship against most unpleasantly unwanted passengers that might try to crawl, slither, or scurry their way to the deck.
"C'mon, girl. Sooner we get this over with, th'better," Tal murmured to his companion, glaring around at the grey sand as it was slowly lightening to gold, as if it had knocked him down and stolen his lunch money as a child. His shoulder-length dark hair was roughly pulled back and secured with a leather tie and his sun-browned skin was visible beneath a black vest and undyed linen shirt. Strangest of all, perhaps, were the tinted snow goggles that he wore over his eyes in spite of the darkness of the early morning as he struck out confidently across the hardpan, seeking the item he'd been sent to find, Dagger in hand against the local predators that roamed the Boneyard... both above and below the desert's surface.
