The unrelenting sun beat down on Farloft as he dragged himself slowly forward. He was searching for water and shade on this wasteland his ‘jump’ had delivered him to. There was nothing on this barren land except short dried up grass and lichen the color of a fire’s day old ashes. And, there was no sign of relief. The view stretched from horizon to horizon bare and lifeless with hardly more than slight swells in the earth to give it texture.
Farloft was heading toward the only outcrop of rock he had seen in hours. It would afford him a bit of shade and allow for him to rest. He had dragged his wing so long over the rocks of this land that it was leaving a bloody trail behind him where he literally scrapped off the scales and then the skin below.
An hour later, he finally made it to the rock. He flopped down with his bad wing stretched out in as comfortable a position as he could while still keeping it in the shade. For once he was pleased he was a youngling and no bigger than a very large horse. If he had been his father’s size the outcrop would not have afforded any discernable shade for the huge dragon.
Farloft was heading toward the only outcrop of rock he had seen in hours. It would afford him a bit of shade and allow for him to rest. He had dragged his wing so long over the rocks of this land that it was leaving a bloody trail behind him where he literally scrapped off the scales and then the skin below.
An hour later, he finally made it to the rock. He flopped down with his bad wing stretched out in as comfortable a position as he could while still keeping it in the shade. For once he was pleased he was a youngling and no bigger than a very large horse. If he had been his father’s size the outcrop would not have afforded any discernable shade for the huge dragon.
