Ellispus

Ellispus the Gentle Gale

Ellispus squinted against the wind, her wings folded awkwardly at her sides. She was sure that something was out there, out of the limited visibility allowed by the storm. These storms had become all too frequent over the past month, leaving Ellispus awaiting the end of her Wasteland Watch that much more.
There were only a couple weeks left of her service in the Wasteland, and the potential of a warm cave and even a warm meal kept her motivation ever present. Above all though, she missed Phestal. Phestal who had always been there up until Ellispus because of age for the Winter Watch draft. Phestal who had volunteered a year early so the two of them could move on and settle down together.
A bitterness rose in Elispus's heart. How could anyone think that Son`khal's grand plans for their tribe's miniscule army was a good idea? She'd had years to reflect on that thought, only finding resentment and distrust in the tribe's leadership.

---

Ellispus flicked her crimson eyes open, looking wildly around the cave she now shared with Phestal. She thumped her feathered tail against the collection of furs and pine branches she and Phestal had created over the past months. Her eyes scanned the cave for any signs of Phestal but found none.
Perhaps he was out hunting, or simply went to service another dragon's armour or weaponry? She decided there was no point in dwelling on the subject and adjusted to a more comfortable position.