Upon a craggy ridge that still remained here among the endless sands a slate-colored Garagnir seemed to look out across the sands. He shifted his weight easily and nearly blended in with the rock he was laying out upon. This sort of weather, the dry and hot heat here, it never bothered him though the forests were much preferred. The cool breeze and rustle of trees would have been welcome to his senses.
His companion, a young man of maybe two decades, struggled with a cloak around his shoulders. The light-weight material was ever-cool and thus he did not find a reason to take up off but merely to shift it so his tattooed skin did not burn in the hot sun. Sword sheathed upon his back and kamas at his sides, it looked as if he was readying for the war... But anyone who knew the Garagnir wouldn't think of such a thing.
"Why are we out here again, Dallin?"
"Calm yourself, Citanul. I have visions... This place, we will find someone important here."
"You have never steered me wrong before. I trust you, Dallin."
The young man ran a hand over the smooth scales of the dragon's belly, looking across the sands to see what his companion might be talking of.
[D lv1][1]
~A good death is its own reward~
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