Narmanath
Woosh, woosh, woosh, the sound of flapping wings whispered into the cold and partly cloudy night. Moonlight that peeked through the clouds, reflected off of tears streaming down silver scales from piercing blue eyes. Narmanath, the Great Defender, was fleeing from his home in the Rising Rocks Mountains. His breaths were labored between sobs of grief, the sounds of the war cries of men, magical explosions, and dying dragons still rang in his mind. His chest ached and his stomach sank. How could they? After everything the good dragons of Tucaro had done for them, how could the people betray them so? The heat of rage filled his heart, the tears stopped and were replaced with fire, he took a sharp turn and began to soar towards the nearest village when he heard. “MAMA! MAMA!” Narmanath stopped and searched for the source of the cry.
