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12-04-2012, 07:09 PM
Last of his knowledge, there were no dragons amongst their kind, not that he had seen. So when the brindle spotted the white reptilian approaching, belly close to the ground, he was instantly on edge. It seemed he wasn't the only one to have spotted it, nor was he the first. Moving closer to the hot springs, Crowley settled his gaze on the small creature, casting only a short glance to Stellaluna who was not far from him. D'Artagnan and Deimos were looking to the dragon just the same. It was surprising that anyone would know of their new location, but the means of how anyone had learned such was not of importance at the moment. Who had sent this dragon, and how many might be waiting for them just beyond the mountains? They would have to find the one passage leading into the mountains to get inside, of course, which would be difficult if any were dispatched to the entrance. Lifting his head, Crowley stepped forward with gaze glued to the stygian, and let loose his magic upon the creature. Immediately a scar was etched into his hide, cutting across his gaskin. He would render the poor dragon flightless just long enough that escape would be nearly impossible when advanced upon. With a satisfied twitch of his lips, Crowley scanned the horizon for anyone that might suddenly appear, to come to the rescue, but he saw none. "Come out, coward!" He called forth, ears tipped back as he slowly started towards the dragon. Despite the rather small size of the dragon, he wouldn't dare get too close, for he knew not the power that the little lizard might hold within her. |
The Weaver's Workshop
HP: 45
