Bones

"A scamper in the background, a young hatchling hiding in the periphery.

Bones gripped the object of his namesake tight in his jaw, a tangle of dried up underbrush his only cover. Watchful eyes studied the passerby of the town where he lived, waiting for an opening to dive into the stream of passing claws.

What was he doing here? Just another hatchling trying to get by, a shadow out of place in a land rife with sickness. Bones lived up to his darkened origins; he was cunning, he grew up fast. He heard the whispers passed from mouth to ear in the red-toned evening hours as dragons gathered to gossip.

They wouldn't whisper in worry for long - Bones would grow stronger. Keep building his nest and hoard, his small place in the lair he squandered all for himself. Already he sharpened tooth and claw against the hard enamel of meatless carcasses left to dissolve back into the landscape.

The moment had come; Bones dives into the crowd, following a familiar route, careful not to be crushed underclaw. If he could not find the comfort of a soft upbringing here, he would instead set aside the security of strength for himself to inherit.

He would survive, like every other sorry soul in the Scarred Wasteland."- By Dreambasket