Ashoun

Ashoun raised his head above the surface of the water to stare into the black night. An icy winter storm raged around him, stronger than usual. He drifted lazily, letting the waves push and pull him about as his eyes combed the sky. Why did it feel like he was searching for something? He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop looking. Then he saw it. A shadow among the storm clouds. A dragon, caught in the maelstrom.

Now, Ashoun had seen his fair share of dragons felled by storms and drowned in the waters at the edge of the Frigid Floes. He tended to watch dispassionately.

This time was different. Without conscious thought he launched himself into the sky and flew towards the battered dragon.

He could feel the ice in the air, sharp and dangerous. He willed it away, giving himself a wide berth of ice-free air in which to fly. The dragon he flew towards was not so fortunate. Ashoun watched in horror as a particularly large shard of icy hail tore through the dragon's wing. An anguished shriek rent the air and the dragon fell, to be swallowed by the churning sea.

A feeling like an anchor tightened around Ashoun's neck and pulled him irresistibly down. He dove steeply, breaking the surface of the water and swimming desperately after the fallen dragon.

Somehow, he found it. He dragged it back up to the surface and managed to lift off once more, diverting the ice. and didn't rest until he reached the base of the mountains of the mainland, where he took shelter in a small grotto. He curled around the small dragon, which was somehow still alive.

Ashoun's heart raced, more than it ever had in his life. He shook, cold and scared and exhilarated. Between his claws was his Charge. His purpose. His entire reason to live.