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 Posted: Mon Nov 29, 2004 8:59 pm
Thinking back on the cookout, Roan realized she hadn't seen the little white there, though she was clearly a member of their community from the way she acted. Her memory was fuzzy as she'd only been half-awake at the time, but she seemed to recall a black dragon being sent off to find some strays. Perhaps this was one of them? In which case the black dragon hadn't done a particularly good job of rounding her up.
"The rude blue dragon is dead. Sunday killed him."
The red dragon seemed remarkably unmoved by the statement she had just made.
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Posted: Mon Nov 29, 2004 9:13 pm
Martina, however, seemed immensely distressed. "Rude blue..?" Reet, grandpa! Did Pir know? Taranis? Surely one of them would have said something, but Sunday had wanted them back soon. Why would Sunday do that? Why kill him? She bolted up immediately and turned on her heel, finally focusing on the direction of the camp.
Her head swam with an overactive imagination. "Grandpa!" was the only explanation she spared Roan before dashing and taking flight.
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Posted: Mon Nov 29, 2004 10:44 pm
...Grandpa?
Roan watched as the white dragon flew off in a panic, leaving her forgotten by the river's edge. Opening her pouch, she surveyed that it was still completely intact, despite all the excitement it had witnessed. Good.
A brief gust of wind moved past her, chilling her still damp body. If she didn't get dried off and to a fire soon, the winter humours would get the best of her. With that thought in mind, she stood and headed back towards the mountain.
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