bluesonic1

The midnight moon hung around the sky; its crescent body curled behind a cloaking cloud. Bronzor looked up once more, blinding light casting down to glint upon each minute scale that hung from his skin. He had watched the sky die down, lose its amber colours, and the moon make itself visible as it spied and pondered the same question that riddled Bronzor’s mind; where was Khyber? Bronzor sat down again; he grew tired of watching the mute forest from his cliff-edge lookout, knowing no dragon would be out hunting because of the current situation. Clans were in danger, a response urgently awaited. Where was Khyber??
Smoke crept out of his scarlet nostrils as a flame brewed in his throat. The crimson scales that once laid flat were beginning to prickle upwards in impetuosity, as if to wind Bronzor up even further. A rustle from his leathery wings broke the internal conflicts. He breathed deeply; smoke trailing complex paths around his snout.
Snap. Of a twig. Bronzor was already menac