Defant

Those stupid dragons. . . .

Listening to them speak of me like this, like a freak of some sorts; someone who has power stronger than theirs by an obvious amount. I enjoy it so much, but of course, I don't wish to show that for many reasons. It's distracting, and blinds one who wishes to boast of such feats. I say "if it happens, it happens. Leave it be." You are weak if you allow it to become the more important part of your life.
Survival is what's important. You need to live. You wish to boast about something? All you need to do is survive. You being alive speaks so much greater than your little combatant triumphs.
It isn't impressive to win. It's impressive to persist afterward.

The tincture jumped about as he traversed the dry plains, clinking in his satchel almost violently. Not all this constant movement came from the Ridgeback's traveling though; this tiny containing held away something powerful enough to sustain such action on its own, the only thing keeping it from becoming unmanageable just a thick sheet of glass. It threatened to escape numerous times in his bag, and eventually, it forced him to keep it safely around his neck.
For many weeks, he continued through the wasteland, searching for anything in sight that could be considered "alive enough". He was told there would be some sort of checkpoint to tell him he was on the right path, but he hadn't seen anything remotely close; Where was it? He knew something must've been up ever since he passed the healthy scar of his home region a couple of weeks ago. Defant was becoming impatient, despite his training; this was a different situation than merely scouting. She requested this of him, and he didn't wish to fail, but he was beginning to become skeptical. He didn't reside too far from the direction he was told, he presumed; perhaps he was poor in his senses regarding this again.

He normally never needed rest, but made exceptions every few days. That night was an exception.
Defant.
He perked up, looking around silently. No one. Just. . .the wind. He lowered his head back down into his festering pocket under the hill he found.
Awaken.
He bumped his head with a grunt the second time, followed by profanity. He looked around again; no one. He sighed, thinking of an idea before lowering his head back down.
Open your eyes.
Defant simply opened his eyes; he recognised that voice better than anyone else's.
You are far too close to rest now, Defant. I know you're able to go much further than this. Rest at the cliffside when you find it; You need energy to travel the wide rivers.
He nodded, rising from his sleeping spot.

She was right; the edge of her domain was just a couple more days away. He managed to cross with ease, constantly flying for an impressive three weeks on end. Landing on the soft, verdant floor afterward felt ugly, and uncomfortable to his weathered claws. Nothing felt like the sickly, arid grounds he was used to for so many years.
Just ignore it; it'll be worth your while more than you think.

The Fae. . .find her. . . .
Her clan is important. . . .
You must join them. . . .

Cleaver was oddly not what he expected, for multiple reasons:
She was friendly.
She was energetic.
She was BIG.
And, most importantly. . .
. . .She was strong.

There were many other drakes nearby, residing as if they lived in the clan as well, along with. . .him. Defant made mental note to keep away. How'd he even find them first, he would never know.
Others around here looked. . .useful. Possibly liabilities though. No matter.