who we are and all that we're trying to be
Still for a moment, a hush fell over him, the lull before pending storms. It had been the same right before a battle, in the brewing tempests, staring out over plains, over marching, advancing adversaries. But this wasn’t meant to be a siege or assault, a barrage, a demolition, a result of ruins and treacheries, neither led by avarice or acrimony. It was a test, a foundational press of capabilities, a loss of senses to hone and harpoon another.
He listened, raising his head to sniff, instead of maneuvering for a moment – the sound of motions, of a loud mass crunching through snow, ice, and rime alerted him to the dragon on his left, but not the sweep of a long neck. Despite the nuances, the immediate shift of his entire sleek body to the right, he couldn’t see the impending nape, and the arc connected on his hind.
The impact wasn’t so barbaric that it knocked him off its feet, but it was a warning, to do more, to be better, grinding down into the granules of his abilities. He didn’t loosen a howl, a growl; silenced despite the contact. Then he turned back, daring and bold, muzzle drawn towards the expanse of a larger being, intending to make quick executions of movement, of motion, to tag with the end of his nose, and then bid a hasty evasion.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
