No tour of Halo would be complete without checking out the exiles from the Citadel, Jigano and Loren had decided. So on their way back from their visit to the primary place of human survival in the great white west they had chosen to take a long detour out towards the fabled town of Whitebrim. (Not all fables end well after all. Some of them are quite bloody, at their core.)
That was the short explanation for why and how a silver dragon soared low through the skies with a small honeybadger clinging to his scaly back, nestled in the dip of his shoulderblades between his wings. They circled the town curiously before a column of scarlet smoke drew their attention and Jigano landed nearby before hunkering down behind a snow drift to shift back to his human form, shivering as the cold wind struck through through his heavy layers as it hadn't done through his scales. He joined his fellow Loreseeker in approaching the mysteriously smoking suitcase, nodding, warily to the others who had arrived ahead of them.
That was the short explanation for why and how a silver dragon soared low through the skies with a small honeybadger clinging to his scaly back, nestled in the dip of his shoulderblades between his wings. They circled the town curiously before a column of scarlet smoke drew their attention and Jigano landed nearby before hunkering down behind a snow drift to shift back to his human form, shivering as the cold wind struck through through his heavy layers as it hadn't done through his scales. He joined his fellow Loreseeker in approaching the mysteriously smoking suitcase, nodding, warily to the others who had arrived ahead of them.
