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These Peaks Will Be My Crown [Wycliff]

Started by AevumEternity, March 19, 2017, 11:31:36 PM

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Wycliff

About a month passed in the harsh mountain climate, characterized by many a meal of venison, alongside various birds of prey. Finally, the time came for a return to be made: the test was complete.

Sheol's eyes shuttered open as the morning breeze wafted a chill over his hair. The witch had made him sleep outside the encampment, in human form, for sassing her the previous night. He wished some breed of monster would attack them, that he could save her and be rid of this crippling life debt. Sadly, after witnessing the last month, he was decently sure she wouldn't need his help with anything short of dragon. Blasted fortunes. To be born a runt, and now a slave to a human. Typical.
Sheol rises, his long black mane falling into place from its previous position of wrapping around his body as a makeshift blanket. The length had increased considerably since a month ago, now reaching almost to his heels. By deductive reasoning, they'd concluded it increased the more he ate, as its growth had been sporadic and instant, in line with their meals. The one thing he was thankful for, however, was that he was no longer a runt: in fact, in dragon form, Sheol was now very large for his age, a near six feet tall and eighteen feet long. Whatever that witch had done to him, he couldn't complain too much of the result. He strays over to the encampment, hoping to find Orionas awake: she'd told him they were leaving the area, a prospect he wasn't opposed to. He hated those frosty peaks that had reared him, his brethren who'd stabbed him in the back. One day, he would return to put them in their place: perhaps when he was twice the size of a normal dragon. That should do.


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