Wolfe

By LovelyDovely

Why is it so common for someone to be afraid of the dark?
Wolfe never understood, for he sees gloomy shadows as comfort, a mother he never had, a friend till the very end. It was a nice, relieving hug, whispering to him that everything is and will be alright. The light? It bites and nags, tearing at his eyes like a savage animal, demanding attention. Its glow crawls under your scales, digging holes like a worm, leaving you uneasy and exposed. It shows you everything at once, bright and blinding, but that becomes too much, overwhelming Wolfe until he curls into a hopeless ball with hate and scorn weighing him down.
The dark would never do these things.
Why he isn't a shadow dragon is the real question. Perhaps fate missed the nail on the head, hitting its thumb instead. Deciding to live in the Tangled Wood was an easy choice... in fact, it was never a choice, it was instinct. The atmosphere was welcoming, full of friendly smiles that lacked judgment and worms. This was the home Wolfe was meant to be born in. Being adventurous and curious was the thing that made him a wind dragon, but being a wind dragon in the dark was an entirely new experience. Gazing at the stars under the moon's gentle gloom. Digging under roots and finding treasure obscured by the abyss. Silently gliding through smoky clouds, projecting a colossal shadow onto the brambles and dragons below.
This was paradise.