Brandir

Brandir looked at the searing hole in his wing. The red hot poker was lying on the floor of the Forge and he almost collapsed from the pain. Brandir forced himself to stay calm. At least the poker had burned the hole shut, effectively cauterizing the wound and preventing the opportunity to bleed out. He had no idea who had wanted to run him through. Brandir stumbled to the entrance of his Forge. Who has the same work day??? His thought process felt feverish and and slow as he worked through all the dragons. Not Styx, or Cassiopeia. Skysong, maybe? No…
Shade.
Brandir knew that at least three other dragons worked in the same Forge as Shade, and that Shade worked most days. Oh, this is gonna hurt. Brandir thought.
He jumped into the smokey air, his wing exploding with pain. Brandir unsteadily made his way to where Shade worked, the hole in his wing causing him to bob up and down. But he made it. Barely. He landed in front of Shade and a strange red Coatl.
“What the heck? Are you ok?” Shade asked. Brandir weakly showed him his wing, and then fell to the floor, hot embers filling his vision. The Coatl said something to Shade in murmuring tones, and Shade answered back.
In Coatl.
They lifted him up and began to carry him through the sky. He tried to say something to Shade, but the embers of pain closed over his vision with a sense of finality.