Sky Meets Sea Day 2: Food (Insects)
Enter the Coliseum! 20-30 matches in the Coliseum
Cumulus huffed, arms sore. The Wind dragon’s back and shoulders were screaming in protest from the strain of wielding a freshly restrung bow. The wood would eventually cease to bite into his hands, but not soon enough.
His new companion--a guardian named Toba--had advised to hunting under the cover of night. They had excellent night vision and had no qualms with wrestling their quarry. It was safer, they insisted. No explanation, they drawled, just that they knew of future circumstances relevant to them both.
Which was, in all honesty, extremely presumptuous coming from a total stranger, Water dragon or no.
Cumulus had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at them. Toba was dark and beautiful, honey-sweet and verbose, and getting a little annoying about the whole vague future circumstances thing. Ever since the drifters met along the trails, the Water dragon had insisted on accompanying him everywhere. Because of such future circumstances, they would answer with a smile. Any other day Cumulus would have ditched this tall errant drink of water and went on his merry way.
Except the guardian gods and ancestors must have had a sense of humor, because the yearning to protect--the ancient instinct that bore down upon the guardian like the winds of a howling gale--ignited after a night of stories and wine for this nuisance of a drifter.
And now they had a nest to tend to. His mother always did warn him of his wandering ways.
