Valley of Gold the drake

with a roll of his eyes, he scoffs. "are you always this insufferably pompous? or am i just special?" he grumbled. the man's boastfulness was nothing if not fucking irritating. men like him were always the same; claiming the could not be felled, could not be touched, as if they were some sort of god-spawn. but he would meet his end one day. ikaros finds himself hoping it's bloody, gruesome, and slow.

he does not thank the brute for leading him to water. instead, he flashes him a sharp stare, before he's leaning down to greedily lap at the cool liquid. he practically inhales the water; he couldn't remember the last time he'd drank. his throat less parched, meaning his mood slightly less irritable. he doesn't bother asking where the man is off too when he disappears beyond the dunes. instead, he's hoping the beast finally got bored and wandered away.

luck was never in his favor, though. the man returns and tosses something horrific at his paws. ikaros reels back in disgust, lips curled, tail tucked. "what in the hells is that? you expect me to eat this?" he spat. a dark paw poked at the dead creature. it was far from the venison and fish he was accustomed to. never in his life had he been tossed something so...gross!

but alas, hunger claws at his sides. with a grimace, he puts his pride aside to begin tearing into the creature. his maw wrinkles with each bite, but he swallows morsels with a hunger unfamiliar. again, he does not offer thanks. instead, he wonders why the man has not only led him to drink, but why he even bothered feeding him.

ikaros does no trust it. does not trust him. most men, in his experiences, did not offer such gifts unless they wanted something.

"what is it you want?" he asked, blunt and pointed. "you must be after something."