BloodStorm

Dusk had started to set and several hunters flew in with their day’s gatherings. One by one, the beige guardian reviewed what they brought before nodding and motioning for them to place their food in the appropriate storages. Ever since their clan had started to grow and the nests became filled with eggs, his minor duties of being a warrior for the clan had become truly important. Even if he was young, Tempest acted beyond his age and never let anything come between him and his duties- except, perhaps, his temper. Another dragon landed, this one being one of their youngest hunters. Barely out of the nest, in fact, but he proudly showed off the mouse he had caught. It was barely a morsel for a hatchling, fresh hatched, but the youth acted like it was the best thing he could have ever caught. If anything, he searched for approval from Tempest.

There was a slowness to reply, but when he did, Tempest seemed to beam with pride, even if it was just for show. “A grand catch! You are becoming a swifter hunter every day. Go, put it among the rest of the stores. You did well in serving your Clan today.” The tiny dragon squeaked and ran into the cave where the other hunters trekked.

“You respond with such strength to those that need it most,” a voice chuckled. Brother approached the warrior, looking, for once, affectionately at him. Despite all their power-struggles and constant arguments, the aged leader seemed to stare at Tempest like he had been suddenly enlightened. The warrior snorted and looked back out to the sunset.

“Youngsters don’t need criticism yet. They need to want to do their job. Just like I am only doing mine.” Despite the awkward silence, Brother was smiling and staring at the young alpha.

“Tempest, I think it’s time to consider your rise to being Leading Warrior in our clan.”