by Thunder » 11/27/2016 4:00 AM
The tunnel was situated partway up a mountain. Asydel carefully climbed down the rocky slope, feeling as if his legs would give out at any moment and send him rolling down into the fir trees below. With patience, he eventually reached the bottom. The storage was not far away; he would only have to walk through the forest a bit to get there.
As he ventured on, he listened to sound of the wind blowing through the trees, shaking their needles—the death toll of winter. He wondered how many dragon lives would be lost this season to the bitter cold and lower prey levels. For centuries, the Metal Tribe had endured harsh conditions, but this year, things were different. Dragons were going hungry, getting desperate, and the constant, tiresome work in the tunnels were draining them of their strength.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of pale color and heard rustling amid the firs. Asydel stopped in his tracks, but whatever it was had disappeared as quickly as it came. Was it an animal? Another dragon? Somehow, he had an uneasy feeling in his gut. He narrowed his eyes and changed course, following it as quietly as he could manage.