“My name?” The Blue tore a limb from the well-done elk carcass and gnawed the meat from the bone thoughtfully. “I suppose I haven’t told you, have I? My name is SoNem, son of SoRuu.” He stripped the last of the meat from the bone, sniffed at it, and then swallowed it whole. The bone would give his stomach something to work on during the long journey ahead.

He shifted in the tall grass and felt his rough edges of his scales catch on the blades. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for some satisfying gold or silver to replenish his armor. His mouth grew wet at the thought of the metal taste. Hopefully they would be able to at least find some ore along the way.

He was roused from his musings by a prod from Istaria.

“Sorry to bother you,” she said. “But where are we going? All the others have spread out by now… We have no hope of following them.”

“I’m not sure,” SoNem replied, sniffing at the air. She was right, though: the other dragons had all left. On top of that, he didn’t know his way around since he had lived on the peninsula for his entire life. “Why don’t we head north? Maybe we can find a place the humans haven’t already invaded.” His fire gland pulsed at the mention of the human scum. He took a deep breath to compose himself.

“It’ll be a slow trip since we’re traveling with a wounded dragonelle and a drake,” SoNem also pointed out.

Istaria rolled her eyes. Her master could be far too blunt. She stepped over to Feneya’a side and reexamined the dragonelle’s wing.

“You’re healing up very nicely,” she bobbed her snout in approval. “Do you feel up to moving just yet?”