Valley of Gold the drake

nectanebo barks a laugh, muscled shoulders heaving once. such fire, such tenacity in the face of insurmountable odds. time will tell whether it lasts.

"many have tried to fell me. all have failed, miserably so. get in line behind them if you wish that to be your end." he ambles on ahead, hips swaying lackadaisically. he has come to know these sands as he once knew the mountains, by scent and by sky.

eventually they reach the stream, and arkane motions for his guest to drink. the moment he does, the larger male slinks off across the dunes and disappears without a trace, returning a long while later with a dead hyrax clasped in his jaws. he refuses to waste his energy on anything larger. leaping across the stream where ikaros rests, nectanebo drops it at his feet with a grunt.

"eat, drink and be gone if it pleases you."