Sleeping Dragon Shackles around my wrists

Finally she spoke at length, and Storm basked in the visions her words brought to his mind’s eye. It was nice to be able to imagine something other than his dreary surroundings. He could practically see her brother, his fur a dark smudged monotone, lingering in the shadows nearby. Storm’s lips finally twitched into the smallest smile as she asked about his own siblings.

With a voice slowly losing its creak as he began to use it, Cirrus described his family for her, and for the first time in a while he truly thought about them: “My brothers look simqq1₩)ilar to me, but one is fawn and one is nearer white. Thunder has the only pointy ears. My sister is more like… Grand-daddy. A dog. Real small, thin, pure white. Momma called her Angel, since she looks just like one. She’s really gentle and kind, even though we had a rough time of it growing up, looking so different.”

It appeared that she had won Cirrus’s trust over and, in doing so, had unlocked a portion of his personality which he mostly kept shut away in his confinement. The look of a whipped dog shed from his demeanour slightly, and his eyes and ears became more alert. He waited to see her reaction, realising for the first time that they had not actually spoken their names.