The smell of smoke burned throughout her nasal cavity, clogging her throat and forcing passed her lips several painful coughs. Wheezing, her forelimbs extended forward, clawing for salvation but finding none; the fumes were inescapable, the fire around her growing angrier each time she gasped for air. It was not until darkness crept into her peripherals that she caught a glimpse of the culprit behind the raging inferno, the one who’d started—and would end—it all. With one final breath, she screamed his name, only for her voice to tear the thinning veil between her dreams and reality, waking her to the sound of a desperate cry: “Draco.” And on the ground she laid thereafter, panting and searching for fires that were no longer there, as well as straining to hear the sound of the dragon’s voice—a voice that she would never hear, her purpose being something other than a vessel for a beast.

Whilst there was no voice to be heard, the message had come through loud and clear: it was time for her to leave, to discover her purpose for existing, and that meant leaving the mighty tribe’s claim. So, when the sun had reached its peak at last, it was first her mother and then the elders that she’d visited, sharing her troubles with them. From her mother, she received wishes of luck and the assurance that the dragons would always watch over her, no matter where her head might lay at night. From the elders, she received similar utterances, but it was the hope that she might fare better than her mother had that had risen above all else. For they understood the dangers of the outside world all too well, and wished not for another young soul of their’s to suffer. Appreciative, she’d waited until nightfall to depart, sharing one last glance at the stars with her family before travelling back in the direction whence she’d originally come—back towards her place of birth.