Skin Is A Fragile Thing
Awoken by a sudden noise the Old Kin lazily opened its eyes; still undecided if it should care. They had been alone in this place for years. The rustling in their ears was hardly made by anything of substantial size, but what bothered them was that there had been no sound of the creature’s approach. The Old Kin was at the bottom of a massive, hollowed out, tree. It was a remnant of an ancient forest. One of the few trees that had not been completely razed but had not escaped the hand of time either. The remainder of the tree was petrified, leaving a base thousands of miles across, and a trunk that stretched far into the sky. Such that only a creature with wings, or the aid of pesky spells, could find their way into this secluded habitat. A place whose silence loyally betrayed any noise, had given no warning. Begrudgingly, the dragon lifted its heavy, diamond head and swiveled it toward the unexpected, and unwelcome, guest.
