09-25-2020, 02:57 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-25-2020, 03:01 AM by Oberyn3088.)
The snow fell quietly upon the group as they traveled, three figures moving in a single-file line along the narrow pathway the mountain had laid out before them. At the head of the row was a gaunt figure, a torch burning hotly in the grip of one trembling hand. A second, larger figure stood at the leader's back, one hand idly resting upon the hilt of his sword beneath his tightly-bundled cloak as weary eyes cast their glance around the area for signs of movement.
Well behind them was the last, a small girl who seemed much different from her companions. She bore no weapons, nor even a cloak to stave off the elements. Her inner flame was enough to keep her warm, her father had declared, and so it would have to be. She did her best to keep her teeth from chattering as they trudged through the knee-high snow. A frigid gust swept across the tundra, the footprints she'd been using to keep track of the others suddenly weren't in front of her any longer? Had she taken a wrong turn somehow? The glow of the torch was of little help, despair starting to rise within the young dragoness. Distraught as she was starting to become she failed to notice the looming presence of the larger of her escorts looming just nearby.
"If you slow our pace again, I'll say the mountain claimed you." Horace barked sternly, snow crunching underfoot as he returned to the small sled he'd been dragging along. The carcasses placed upon it were starting to smell, hence their hurried pace. It wouldn't do well for Garljing's intended offering to spoil before they arrived. "Fall back in line."
Not wanting to risk further ire by speaking out, the young girl did as instructed. The taller figure's face was barely visible even with the glow of his torch, but she could see he was frustrated as well. They had begrudgingly accepted Minerva's place in their group as she had shown great promise within the Fireblooded, able to see visions clearly in the flames from the time she was small.
Minutes passed in painful slowness after that, until the three stood in the shadow of a sprawling cave. Large stone carvings depicting the dragons of old stood at the entrance. As the slender Jaice bellowed out a cry to the great dragon within, Minerva wished with all her heart that she'd be graced with the sight of even a single one of Garljing's glimmering scales, to feel the weight of the great dragon's gaze upon her form for even a second.
But she would have no such luck. The priest's prayer to the dragon drew to a close, the meat and sled both were left at the cave's mouth. After that they readied to depart, the young dragoness vowing to return here someday and bear witness to the mighty dragon with her own two eyes. And her offerings would be better than a few deer, to be sure. For it was her destiny to inherit the responsibilities of the Fireblooded someday, of that she had no doubt.
Well behind them was the last, a small girl who seemed much different from her companions. She bore no weapons, nor even a cloak to stave off the elements. Her inner flame was enough to keep her warm, her father had declared, and so it would have to be. She did her best to keep her teeth from chattering as they trudged through the knee-high snow. A frigid gust swept across the tundra, the footprints she'd been using to keep track of the others suddenly weren't in front of her any longer? Had she taken a wrong turn somehow? The glow of the torch was of little help, despair starting to rise within the young dragoness. Distraught as she was starting to become she failed to notice the looming presence of the larger of her escorts looming just nearby.
"If you slow our pace again, I'll say the mountain claimed you." Horace barked sternly, snow crunching underfoot as he returned to the small sled he'd been dragging along. The carcasses placed upon it were starting to smell, hence their hurried pace. It wouldn't do well for Garljing's intended offering to spoil before they arrived. "Fall back in line."
Not wanting to risk further ire by speaking out, the young girl did as instructed. The taller figure's face was barely visible even with the glow of his torch, but she could see he was frustrated as well. They had begrudgingly accepted Minerva's place in their group as she had shown great promise within the Fireblooded, able to see visions clearly in the flames from the time she was small.
Minutes passed in painful slowness after that, until the three stood in the shadow of a sprawling cave. Large stone carvings depicting the dragons of old stood at the entrance. As the slender Jaice bellowed out a cry to the great dragon within, Minerva wished with all her heart that she'd be graced with the sight of even a single one of Garljing's glimmering scales, to feel the weight of the great dragon's gaze upon her form for even a second.
But she would have no such luck. The priest's prayer to the dragon drew to a close, the meat and sled both were left at the cave's mouth. After that they readied to depart, the young dragoness vowing to return here someday and bear witness to the mighty dragon with her own two eyes. And her offerings would be better than a few deer, to be sure. For it was her destiny to inherit the responsibilities of the Fireblooded someday, of that she had no doubt.