Dragoncrest Cliffs Witness Marks

In rides a red boy, tall and commanding thunder with his voice, knocking Rilke from his impaired rhythm. He sinks, barring himself, an apology on his face and in the pin of his ears, the wrap of his tail.

He forces with great effort an explanation from his throat, a crack made raw and rubbery.  He licks his lips profusely.

I am no threat to you!