Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
Waethrin
The Ruins of Edlenfeld
"'Caution'? 'Caution'?"
The old man shot a withering glare at Cinder. He'd have expected one who carried such a name as she to carry with it a greater passion, even were she an Arcane Warden. But no: it seemed the woman was coward, too, and the disservice that cowardice did to her namesake was shameful.
"Damn your caution, woman! If we are 'in the jaws of the beast', I will not wait for it to swallow us without making it pay dearly for doing so!"
Beneath him, Ancalagon roared, and fire licked his maw. His Warden's passion, and perhaps desperation, had spread, awakening the Drake's fury. He looked at the other dragons present, saying through that glance in no uncertain terms that they were bloody rabbits cowering before the snake if they were not proactive. But he refused to wait, and Waethrin certainly did not attempt to restrain him. With a bound, Ancalagon sprang after the soldier in pursuit of whatever it was that had taken him, and in a brief moment they disappeared into the mist, their position only evident by the open flames Warden and Drake carried.
@Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein @BookWyrm
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