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The light rain speckles swiftly onto the many green leaves of the forest, turning into larger droplets that fall to the floor of the realm where stands our solemn party. It's as if the day knows the sorrow we hold and is crying for the loss of my dear sweet mother. Zana Gryphoclaw lies in her casket, adorned by many arrangements of flowers- courtesy of myself. It is a closed casket, for what is really left to see after being scorched by the heat of a thousand suns? Dragon fire is not a comforting way to go. We, meaning me and all of my many friends: Professor Achilles Blacktalon, Shadequill, and Erickson the gryphons, Lady Hawk the sabertoo

We have been traveling down the many paths provided to us by the Emperor Vuil Draak. Barely have rested for three hours, we're exhausted- or at least I am. "Can you please keep up?" Hotaru hisses once again as I lag behind him for the fifth time today. "We have barely a day left to find an kill this creature, and we haven't even taken into considerable the time it will take to travel back out of the caves," he reminds me, again, for the fifth time. I moan, troubled at the idea of killing the poor thing. I've never considered hunting a fun sport, just something out of necessity when your out in the wilderness. Also, I happen to be a bit sque

I cry pitifully as I fall, yet again, on my side. "You have to block with your wings. They aren't just there to flap your fat butt around," Hotaru instructs as he gives another blow to my rump with his scorpion-like tail. "Well it hurts!" I retort, feeling a hot, throbbing pain on the buttock that was just stricken. Along with my ailing rump, my biceps, hamstrings, and other miscellaneous muscles ache to the very bone. All of this, and Hotaru wants me to block with my thin, scrawny wing frame that holds my webbing together. "Besides," I argue again, "what if I tear a membrane? I need my wings in tact to fly out of here, if need be." In sha