Dragoncrest Cliffs I'll be dancing until 1972

Aure hadn’t considered the fact that her appearance might be an unwelcome one, especially in this case; but she forged on tirelessly, and tasted iron in the air as lightning lashed. It lit up the world, and her, as if the very heart of heaven had been cleaved like a shell, and the oyster within was the commencing herald of hellish warfare. For a moment, everything was awash in blinding yellows and whites, and her ears were numbed to the crackling, singing wail of the bolt that struck the seas.

In that moment, too, she’d found who she’d hoped was the healer; a harried concoction of smoldering reds and oranges, eyes lit blue and kindling. She saw her own apprehension boring back into her, but the brana hoped that Drageda’s scent broke off of her own pelt in waves instead of her fear.

For good measure, as lightning guttered, she flourished her feathery tail in greeting as well as announcing herself as packmate. At least, she hoped such, for she’d never seen this healer before until now. Thoughtless, and wanting to leave Hougeda’s lake behind, she came closer as the first words were pulled from her of their own accord, “I want to help. Gods know I will not be any use in ze maiming.”