Otter Creek a burning coal touching the prophet's lips

He chuckled, feeling that the sentiment between them was similar. They were both far from the gangly teens raised and trained in the shadows of the Dark Woods. Time and tribulations had hardened them both. Drogon had grown into his own, muscular with a beautiful coat that reminded Ganon of winter. More or less the same, he shrugged. I thought I'd stay outside of Teekon for a lot longer until this, he gestured towards the stone. It would be hard for Drogon to see, wrapped in leaves and rabbit's fur as it was. Became an issue.