Literature
Falas
Falas curled up in bed with The History of Williams Marshal, his current favorite book. He was tucked into a large bed that had been his for the last month and a half. Though he did not particularly like the warm blue, the room was still far better than the pastel pink one he had been in before. It's nice to stay in one place for more than a month. Falas snuggled deeper into the fluffy bed. Now that his antlers had grown in, the pillows and softness of them made sleeping much more comfortable.
Still, Falas thought, they itch. Reaching up to scratch the small, hard, deer-like stumps growing out the front sides of his head. His black hair fell in front of his eyes again as a result of his efforts. Thoughts of Falas regressed to the past few weeks; at least the fever had subsided. Around the age of twelve, it seems that every young dragon experiences shed fever. What was surprising was that Falas was only ten. The only reason they were still here was because of his fever.
Momma seemed
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