“Up there,” Austere exclaimed as she tilted her wings toward her clan’s home.
Zodic shifted the weight of the stag hindquarter in his paws. He dug his claws in to make sure he didn’t drop it. The view before him was amazing. The ice wrapped around the mountain like a flowing blanket. It glistened and sparkled like polished stone in the late morning sun. Within the folds of the ice were pockets where Zodic could see white dragons tucked away in their nests of furs, some singularly, some couples and many families.
As they approached, the dragons rose from their nest sites like an excited flock of cliff dwelling birds. The air was full of Frost dragons sailing and drifting lazily on the updrafts off the mountain face the ice climbed upon. But, Zodic noted there were no alarm calls, no warning or threatening roars, only an attentiveness to the Furry that was approaching their lair. All of a sudden he felt very out of place in what he had always thought was a beautiful coat of black.
“This way,” Austere called and began to ascend the ice covered ridge.
Zodic could see she was leading him to an ice shelf about mid-way up the mountain slope. He caught the updraft off the mountain beneath his wings. The lift was refreshing and gave him assistance with his heavy load.
Austere circled to one side and came in from the upwind side of the ledge.
“Claws!” She cautioned over her shoulder. “Watch the ice.”