The Son of A Dragon Tamer
1000 Years Earlier
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Crouched low, Nathanael rolled the dusty red clay between his thumb and pointer finger. If his calculations were accurate—and they usually were—it took them a few weeks to turn this lush hollow into useless clay. The marauded vegetation was flattened into dry heaps, uprooted by their pounding claws as they hunted whatever they could find. It would have been a meager feast and it would have been frustrating. Images of desperate dragons looking for food in this region flashed across his mind.
