Wyrm in picture above
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
She is tired.
The cold breeze brushes past Nat's numb face, beating against her drooping eyelids. An invisible force weighs down her back, threatening to push her forward and off the saddle.
"Are you going to talk to me at all?"
Nat ignores the woman, keeping her attention focused on their endless surroundings. She is already feeling the pull of sleep as the sun reaches its peak in the sky.
After the twisted forest of Dedorta, they'd travelled for hours over the ancient paths of the Wyrms. The early morning had cast a bright light over the spread range of granite and aggressive boulders.
It's said that the Wyrms came from the sea. Tales of old made them out to be giant serpentine creatures which were distantly related to dragons. The famous story was about the Wyrms growing jealous of having to watch the dragons fly overhead while they waded in the water. That they had slithered their way onto land only to find themselves unable to cope with the hot temperatures of the earth. Determined to live out of the water, they searched for colder temperatures until finding a home past Dedorta's overgrown wood in the snowy mountains. There, they'd created tunnels and colonies, haunting all travellers who dared to take the road through the mountain paths.
Long, winding trails cut through the mountain rock, almost bringing life to the ancient tale. Each serpentine path in the rock fell away into a valley of vast, treacherous mountains and thick snow that shone brightly in the mid-day sun.
Eagles of gold and brown had sailed past, enjoying the company of Fortison, swooping to their coops in the grey mountainsides. The whole journey across the open air had been undisturbed, not a single dragon in sight.
Nat swore she'd seen the scaly, prominent head of a Wyrm stick out from deep in the valley. In the stories, their sensitivity to bright light made them a rare sight to overhead fliers of the valley. It was an extraordinary sight indeed to see such a fantasy creature.
Nat almost believed she'd seen the rare creature, but it may have just been a trick of the light.
********************
The fresh sweet air from the mountains gets warmer as the snow turns into water and luscious green trees scatter the ground. The sounds of the forest animals filters through the clean air, brushing therapeutically through Nat's tangled hair. It's almost tempting to let herself relax.
She had to look for the home of Wayna. Unfortunately, the forest city is well hidden, especially from above. The Wayna folk hate outsiders, especially the random strangers who seek their medical powers.
"Have you fallen asleep?"
Nat raises her head from where it gently leans sideways against one of Fortison's black spikes. Over her tense shoulder, she sends the woman a quick, sharp glare.
She wasn't asleep, but the idea is compelling.
Her eyes search the forest below, in fear and hope, that she will be able to locate the Wayna in time to save the infant.
From on top of Fortison's shoulders, Nat can spot the tell-tale signs of fever sweat rolling off its pearl forehead. Its wounds remain open despite the chill of the air.
She cannot spot Wayna. It has been too long of a time since-
A clearing breaks through the trees where a huge herd of sheep appear to be enjoying the untouched grass. Their small black heads all turn to the sound of Fortison's wings cutting through the air.
YOU ARE READING
Dragon Blood Bond - A Dragon Rider Fantasy
FantasyNát believed she had made a new life for herself, a well-established warrior for the Kingdom of Hills. She lived everyday training with her companion, a well-built, fire-breathing dragon with scales that rattle like a snake. All seemed to be going w...
