SoNem’s scales prickled as the Aramooran dragonelle crash-landed near him on the hillside. His first instinct was to check and see if she was alright, but he knew from the pungent aroma of blood that she was gravely injured. Istaria had already fluttered down to the dragonelle’s side and was examining her for further damage, flicking her tongue gingerly over the Aramooran’s copper scales to utilize all her senses. She cast SoNem a worried glance, before turning back to the dragonelle.

“You will live,” Istaria said soothingly. “One human arrow cannot slay a mighty dragonelle such as yourself. However, you should rest for the time being. Now grit your teeth, this is going to hurt a bit.” She set to work removing the arrow shaft from the Aramooran’s shoulder.

[i]Her left wing is fractured from the fall,[/i] Istaria spoke directly into SoNem’s mind. [i]She won’t be able to fly right away. We will have to travel by[/i] saa [i]until she recovers.[/i] She tried to convey her concern for the wounded dragonelle by sending him mind-pictures of humans attacking her. Was it a cruel manipulation? Probably, but she was worried SoNem would abandon the Aramooran to save himself. The urge for self-preservation was always more prominent in male dragons.

[i]Fine,[/i] SoNem closed his eyes, trying to block out the images Istaria was pressing on him. [i]We can spend the rest of the night here–[/i] He stopped when another scent drifted to him on the wind. His [i]griff[/i] fluttered at the odor of human sweat and blood. He dashed over to the Wimborne, where she was standing over the collapsed figure of a hominid, and shouldered her aside.

SoNem loomed over the human, [i]sii[/i] poised to deliver a fatal strike. He stood like that for a moment in frustration. He didn’t speak the hominid language, and he was certain the man didn’t understand Drakkin. He settled on sending him mind-pictures of a human dropping its weapons and fleeing from a dragon. Next, he sent one of a human trying to attack a dragon, but getting fatally burned in the process. He snarled at the human on top of that, baring his fangs and rattling his [i]griff[/i] menacingly, and hoped that would get the message across.

He heard a loud thud behind him and a new smell washed over him. He whirled around at the dragon-smell, [i]griff[/i] still descended. Dragons were naturally territorial, so the males generally avoided each other’s company to prevent frequent fights. He relaxed slightly when he saw that it was only a drake. He eyed the two long bulges on the young dragon’s back. It wouldn’t be long before this drake sprouted its wings, which would explain why SoNem first identified his scent as that of an adult. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sharp dragon-smell of the other.

“So, you survived too, drake?” He said, purposefully holding his head up higher than the other’s. “How did you get this far without your wings?”