FrostFang

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A purplish blur darted out from between the frozen chunks of permafrost at the glacier's edge, its form impossible to make out through the snowsquall that had recently picked up.

Spirit approached cautiously. Whatever it was, it was barely the size of his enormous paw, and he doubted it would pose a threat to him. Just as he reached the chunk of frigid blue ice, he heard the sound of scuffling talons behind him. Turning his head quickly, a blur skidded around a large boulder, the far side of it fading out of sight into the flurry of ice and snow.

Spirit approached the boulder slowly, head low, ears pricked. As he neared, a sudden burst of snow ejected itself from the top of the boulder, causing him to take a step back as he raised his head to face the intruder.

Atop the boulder stood what was clearly a hatchling, although not of the likes Spirit had encountered before. While the beast bore a fluffy mane like other dragons he’d seen in these parts, it also had two heads, each of which were covered in a pulsating mass of yellow eyes.
The strange plague dragon reared up, flapping its wings and sending more chunks of snow and ice toppling down the face of the boulder as the wind whipped around its flanks.

Although it was clear the tiny dragon was attempting to appear ferocious, Spirit found himself unable to stifle a bit of a smile.
“You’re a bit far from home, little one. This icefield is no place for a hatchling.”

“We are not just a hatchling,” responded the two heads simultaneously. “Our kind have spent many ages allowing Mother’s magic to shape our vessels, to change us… and now we are finally strong!”
The little two-headed dragon swiped her pair of tails across the top of the boulder, toppling more snow and spraying the powder at Spirit’s face. “We have heard that this icy land holds horrors that some of dragonkind could only imagine in their darkest dreams, creatures of pure, wretched evil and chaos.”

“What you’ve heard is the truth. And with that knowledge, I advise you turn back the way you came, and leave this place at once,” said Spirit. “It is not a place for hatchlings, no matter how strong…”

Before he could finish, the two-headed dragon leapt from the boulder, her talons grasping Spirit’s mighty antlers as she landed on his face. Instinctively, Spirit thrashed his head to shake the dragon off, but, using her tails to tightly grasp one of his antlers, she sprung from his face and clawed her way down his neck, pulling his head down to one side.

Spirit followed the momentum and slammed his mighty head into the ice, brushing his side across the ground in an attempt to scrape the plague dragon from him, but as he did he felt talons scrabbling across his back. He began to raise his wings but felt a sharp, searing pain as tiny, razorlike teeth sunk into the membrane. He reared up, letting out an aggravated snarl as he batted his wings and shook himself vigorously.

The sound of fluttering wings entered his left ear as his assailant latched onto the side of his head, tails coiling around his throat and squeezing tightly, talons scraping as they clutched his antler.

Spirit stopped. The hatchling grasped at his antler and squeezed his neck with her tails, but she simply didn’t have the strength to do much more than cause mild discomfort.

“Why are you here?” He decided to take a different approach.

“We have come to take upon us the challenge of guarding these lands and the creatures they hold in the icy towers. We wish to prove we are worthy of the honor and the risk, to prove that we are strong, and we too can help protect our kin from the horrors so many have forgotten!” The hatching’s two heads took turns speaking this time, with each shouting a phrase before taking a moment to catch their respective breath.

“And if I say you may not stay here?”

Spirit heard the talons tightening on his antler, the tails around his neck pulling tighter as the two heads leaned in close to his face.
“Then we will fight you to prove our worth, and if we are found unworthy, we will welcome the cold embrace of death…”

Spirit opened his mouth to protest, but the words never came. The hatchling couldn’t be more than a few days old, and he had to admit, he’d never seen such determination. The masses of yellow eyes seemed to glow with utter fearlessness as they gazed into his own, awaiting his response. He had a feeling that this creature was not going to take no for an answer, and he was sure he didn’t have it in him to dispatch a mere hatchling for no more than a mild inconvenience.

At last, he sighed. “Get off of my face, and you may stay.”
Immediately, the hatchling released him, landing promptly on her feet at his side. Her wings lifted triumphantly as she peered up at the giant dragon. He supposed that there was potential in that tiny body… perhaps with some guidance, she would be able to fulfill an assisting role. If nothing else, it might be nice to have some company, as he was far from the nearest of his kin.

“You have much to learn,” said Spirit slowly, “lest you turn into a popsicle in the glacier as so many others have.”
The hatchling continued to peer up expectantly, and fell into pace as he began to pad across the icy ground, heading for his personal outpost. “What are you called, little one?”

“You may call us FrostFang,” said one head, “And we look forward to learning about this frigid land and the history it holds,” finished the second.

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