Notechis

It is a beautifull day at (place name here), your clan is enjoying the sun while following their daily activities. Suddenly, someone screams in surprise as they notice a blue-ish green Nocturne dragon standing amidst your clan, noone being able to recall where he came from. His head is adorned with a crown of bones, his wings wrapped with blood- and lymph-stained bandages and his skin seems to be covered with some kind of toxic substance which is oozing from his jaws and dripping down his chin. Your dragons back away in a hurry as he starts hissing like an angry snake, some of your clan members being able to recognize distorted words in his hisses: “ssssstained.... ssssspreading.... ssssubdue.... sssssubmission... ssssolitude...“ He takes a few steps, his gaze wandering as if following some invisible pray, then shakes his hed violently to chase away the phantoms he sees. He turns to face your clan leader, fumbles around under his wing and brings forth a frayed-looking canvas bag, which he tries to hand to your leader, who just backs away from the disgusting thing. The bag is soaked with some unknown liquid, twitches occasionally as something inside of it struggles to get free and reeks of death and decay. The Nocturnes eyes narrow as he drops the bag to the ground, some angry hissing coming from within the fabric prison, and struggles to speak again: “Mmh... mhotherr... sssssendss... hher... rhegardssss...“ Whith a last, toxic glare and incomprehensible hissing he unfolds his wings and takes flight, leaving nothing behind but a small puddle of acidic-looking liquid on the floor and the disgusting bag of (deity here)-knows-what. Nobody really dares to get close to it, but you can´t just leave it there, as it´s smell gets worse with every minute it´s sitting in the burning sun. Finally, one brave dragon carefully unties the knot and opens the sack...