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@annatar-the-lord-of-gifts
Saphira made her way through the field she was in, keeping a close watch on the young wild dragon’s who were milling their way about it. Honestly she did her best not to talk to them in common or elven speak, she hopped that these Dragon’s would communicate in the same way as wild dragons of old did. Before their destruction. And so she tried to leave communicating with them to the Eldunarí of the Wild Dragon’s that they had found in the Vault of Souls. When she spotted a purple female who had managed to gain flight for a moment however she spoke to her.
“Samera! Your wings are
not strong enough yet!”
She called to the hatching with both her mind and voice, off after the dragon
who was merely weeks old. She should have known better, she knew first hand
how stubborn even young female dragons were! But she ran after her non the
less, managing to catch her as she fell from the sky nearly a mile from where
she had taken off. Her wing had torn a bit towards the end and the muscles
were no doubt
“Little one, you need to be more careful!
What would your sire think if he were to
hear of this?”
She spoke of the young dragon’s Sire and not her Dame for the simple fact
that her Sire’s Eldunarí was back at the camp, where as her Dame’s was not.
As she began the process of trying to repair her wings with magic she tensed
slightly, she had only just finished tending the open wound and had not yet
gotten to trying to alleviate the pain in her muscles. But she could sense
another near by, and so she stood with Samera in her arms, pulling the cloak
she had on around her front to cover the dragon that was at this point about
the size of a medium sized dog.
“Who is there!? State your
business or feel my wrath!”