Rhoslyn

Warning for spookiness and vague descriptions of injuries

"You must help me..." A trembling voice interrupted Rhoslyn's thoughts on her bird watching stroll. The dragon sounded weak. She padded over the mat of pine straw and moss that was the forest floor towards what she assumed to be the source of the voice, a large thorny tangle of brambles. "I'll be right there." She called out to the now rustling thorny bush. Young Rhoslyn hooked a few stems with her horns and pulled at them, snapping them in half. "Almost got it." She murmured, close to reaching the center of the bush. There was a small pocket of space in there big enough for a small dragon to get stuck, she figured. She saw an off-white color peeking through the vines. Rhoslyn hooked the remaining strands of thorns with her horns and pulled with one mighty effort, snapping them all and knocking herself back onto the ground. She shook off the discombobulation from the impact and walked back over to the brush, peering under into the empty pocket for the small dragon. A yellowed, cracked skull met her gaze directly. She howled in terror, leaping away from the ancient looking skeleton. Tears began to form in the young dragon's eyes as she turned to flee, only to gasp in horror and freeze in place. Before her was a ghastly, mangled looking fae dragon, their scales and clothes torn and stained with a rusty red. Thier eyes were empty pools of black nothing. Again their voice rang out, this time like a the striking of a bell that rattled directly in Roslyn's brain.

"You must help me."