oggyfromthebog:
@caileanthewarrior
Oggy laid down on the beach of some blasted Loqoalan island. Small but not too small, but far enough away from the mainland and from Rajayer to be ignored by everyone but smugglers. The place was adored by smugglers, which was why Oggy was there. Brought his own little schooner and everything. Figuring, quite dumbly, that the whole eclipse business would be a serviceable distraction to smuggle sensitive materials through foreign waters.
Wasn’t counting on the eclipse to make him feel like barfing. It was the strangest thing, thoughts and feelings of marine life surged then stopped. Truly unsettling. If he were a smarter man Oggy would have planned to spend the eclipse with someone else, all romantic like. Re-enact the Vailen myth of the eclipse with Erin, or Aspen if she was up for it. Slumbering gods he’d reach out to anyone if they was up for it. He’d still feel like shit but it’d be a damned sight better than groaning on some abandoned beach watching the sky and-
“What the fuck?” Oggy shot up. Hand wiping over his face as he could barely believe his eyes watching the familiar form of the dragon approach. He was on his feet before he knew what he was doing. Running to Cailean as he came down from the sky toward Oggy’s abandoned little island.
-
His expansive wings moved haphazardly against the wind. The formidable dragon of white feathers found a streak of red across its left wing. There was a crack at the tip, the cartilage shattered by the blade of the Loqoalan sword. But Cailean fled the shattered vessel and frozen island, relying on his need for survival and adrenaline to push him through. In moments where his psyche fought with his intuition, the power of one’s self-preservation was all that won out. The men on the vessel would soon wound him, had he remained to bring a frost onto another island. But the piercing pain of the blood was too severe, as he committed every ounce of strength to build distance.
His large eyes flicker, feeling his senses numb at the sharp pain. It isn’t long before he descends, his form landing on an abandoned speck from the air. The white, feathery dragon lands off the edge of a small island. His consciousness attempts to drift, as his bloody wing felt the coolness of the ocean water. The pain, shock, and agony of his actions almost lulled him into unconsciousness. But the sound of hurried footsteps kept him alert, the sound of the elf’s voice still in his ear. He was to take whoever stood in his way. And though the sun began to peep from beneath the moon, Phelix’s hold was present. In the fray, a familiar scent floods his senses, accompanied by a man. But he’s quick to stagger upwards, slowly transforming into his human form.
“Don’t you dare,” Cailean intimidates purposefully, gripping his bleeding shoulder. His vacant eyes attempted to see, but instead, he merely glowers. The defenses of his bond, still present as the sun began to appear further. “I will kill you, I swear.” Cailean hisses, the sound of the elf ever-present. “I will kill all that stands in my way.”
