Qeya River dracarys

She couldn't get her muscles to cooperate and Bat didn't try long. As much as she wanted to grab something to eat and return to her friend, she resigned herself to sit beside the river a little longer. She heaved a great sigh, one she felt in the root of her lungs, and peered at the water. It might be nice to go for a swim, yet the water was too frigid and, anyway, that also required energy she couldn't presently muster.

Her mind wandered as she lingered there, thinking back on her conversation with Tristan the evening prior. "What's up with dragons lately?" he'd asked, which made her think further back, to a fellow she'd met on her travels east of the wilds, not long after separating from Sequoia.

He'd been an old, grizzled fellow by the name of Drac. Bat had asked him if it was a nickname and he'd responded by regaling her with a few vivid tales about the mythical reptilian beasts called dragons, which had of course made her think of Drageda. According to him, they were colossal in size, breathed fire and flew with great wings.

"Bat-like," he'd told her with a wink. "There was a word to command them; if you spoke it, it caused a reflex and they belched great flames. "

"What was it? The magic word?" she'd of course wanted to know.

He hadn't been coy, simply answering, "'Dracarys.'"

"Dracarys," Bat murmured aloud, her mind filled with the image of fire billowing from jaws wide enough that she could walk into them without ducking and a forked tongue longer that her entire body, from the tip of her nose to the tip of her tail.

The sudden appearance of a stranger downriver jarred Bat from her reverie. He was no dragon, yet he was a fairly immense wolf, with pitch black fur that paled toward his underside. Although he cut an intimidating figure, she didn't feel afraid. His presence finally spurred her back onto her feet, her tail giving a few slow waves to indicate that she was friendly, if a little off color today.

"Hello."