Obscura had taken on his human form and currently wove through a South American city. Its streets were filled with people; noisy, obnoxious, ill-manned people. Humanity was not something he had ever truly come to terms with for he simply could not understand their society's functioning; how could a race so insignificant spread their seeds across the world and into every nook and corner flourish in their own filth. Humans were no longer the noble creatures of the past. Dragons once made a pact with the ancient ancestors of man; man would allow the drakes to take on their form only if they offered protection and to honor a treaty of peace. Back then, man feared the great dragons and so sought out refuge in agreements of peace. But that was then.

Since the time of the dragons man had forgotten the fear of the drakes, they ahd forgotten the respect, and so the human form of a dragon became a means of blending instead of standing out as their kings. Obscura's human form was a generous one; handsome, muscular, strong, and yet he found no appeal in it. He only ever took on this atrocious form when he needed to infiltrate the massive cities of man. Throughout his life he saw how the species had grown in numbers and in intelligence. He was not so proud that he would assume their vast numbers alone would be enough to destroy him should they so choose. And the fear that dwelled in man's heart of the drakes was not a respectful fear, but a destructive one; the modern may no longer sought out a peaceful existance with things unknown but rather pursued the destruction of anything that could return the favor.

A man carrying a stack of porcelain jars filled with spices and grains nearly plowed Obscura over. [b]"Argh, these damn cramped roadways!" [/b]he would curse after leaping out of the way only to bump into a mother and child causing the child to break out in a shrill cry. [b]"I can't take this anymore." [/b] His stress levels seemed to hover at a pitch fever whenever he entered into the cities of man. A cramped street with noise and smells of the worst kind surrounding his senses was hardly the place for a great dragon. He had been searching this city for nearly 3 hours already and his senses offered no tell of another of his kind. In his human form his physical senses were lowered to suit the human figure he adorned, but he still had his sixth sense; the one that told him when one of his own kind was near. 

It was time to leave and search elsewhere. Perhaps the great jungles to the south; the rainforests of america were one of the few places left that a dragon could live unseen by man, but as the filthy species hacked away at the body of the great woods this precious refuge would only fade away with time. Man was destruction. 

It took nearly 45 minutes to make his way back out of the city by foot and find a safe place in the hills where he could shed the wretched skin of his human form and return to the glory that was his own true form. He stretched out his wings and took in the fresh air that rolled off the grassy hills. He could taste the smog floating off the city in the distance, it sickened him to no end but he had accepted this tyrany of man and simply took refuge in the memory of his home in the north, untouched by man, protected by the freeze. As he took in the scents with his newly revived senses an eerie, powerful surge of excitement coursed through his body. There was something out of place in the scent of the air. Something he had not smelled in ages. At first he couldn't quite place what this odd smell was, but then, after a few moments of disbelief he knew. 

His entire body surged with lust and desire while his mind struggled not to break down at the idea of this scent being no more than a phantom of his memories. He opened his mouth a little to draw the scent into the gland at the top of his mouth in the same way that the felines did. He could taste it and he knew. He knew this scent, though in a way it was unfamiliar to him. The scent of nobility and power, the scent of ancient glory and beauty, the scent of his dreams and his memories clashing in a powerful aroma of ecstasy: this was the scent of a dragon.

Obscura lifted his great mass to the skies, forgetting and not caring to shield himself from the view of the city below; the formation of yet another legend was of no comparison to the emotions that flowed through him. He jetted up, higher and higher into the clouds, above the clouds, where the air was pristine and untainted by man. Tears welled up from his eyes as emotion took hold of him. He looked in every direction, inhaling this precious scent, struggling to pinpoint its provider in the heavy winds of the upper atmosphere. Where was this dragon?

He took off at a speed so rarely seen in his person, his wings lit up the darkening sky in a dazzling display of what would appear to be the aurora borealis. No doubt there would be stories on the humans' "news papers" about the colorful display but he did not care for the events of their insignificant lives. He did not care about anything at this point, only finding the other. All about the sky he soared and circled, following the scent as it was whisked about in the swirling drafts of the wind currents. It was getting closer but still, he could not see the source. Doubt plagued his heart; this would not be the first time his memories brought about a phantom sense. This time seemed different though, it seemed real. It seemed perfect.