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gn0me strength is great! Here is the piece about Pash meeting my dragon Aillil for the first time:
The Holocene dragons of CuChulainn’s clan had been training to take on Scorched forest, yet were knocked down again and again. Their general, brave Saoirse, set up their camp, to discuss battle plans and tend their wounds. The atmosphere is hushed and morale low, as they prepare to face off against that which has bested them too often to count. Theyre running low on supplies, and Saoirse sends her second in command, Ailill, to gather more food. Ailill nods solemnly and heads deeper into the scorched and barren landscape, to find some morsel that still clings to life. Ailill is forced to stray further and further away from the safety of camp due to the scarcity of edible plants, and hearing a roar in the distance, tenses and slinks closer to the noise, lowering himself to the ground as to be less visible, knowing that alone like this he’s an easy target for the beasts that have slain him even when he was with his clan. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and focuses instead on the direction of the periodic snarls and ringing howls, sharp like cut glass. As Ailill approaches the sound, he realises with a start that it is coming from a dragon, not from some unknown powerful threat. He allows himself to stand up straight and move faster towards the specks he sees in the distance, obviously mid battle. He is worried for this dragon, for although he is unknown to their clan, any dragon caught in this hostile land alone is in danger, and Ailill resolves to bring him back to his clan’s camp and patch his wounds. As the figures come into focus he spots the young dragon, a flurry of blue and intricately marked, facing off against three owlcats, which fail to land their claws on his shimmering scales. The young dragon, a spiral dragon Ailill thinks, although its hard to tell from this distance, rises up and forcefully whips at the owlcats with his tail. One falls, mewling in pain, and the other two back away warily. Ailill inches closer. The young dragon snarls at the cowering owlcats, which balk and flee, abandoning their fallen companion. The dragon watches them run, satisfied, and goes to claw at his prize. Ailill steps closer, hesitating to fly down and greet the lone traveller, and underfoot a twig, black with soot, snaps, drawing the amaranthine gaze of the other dragon, who lifts his kill up with one hind claw and flies over to where Ailill is standing motionless, shocked that one dragon, nevermind one many years his junior, could so easily beat those creatures whom his clan had struggled against, luckless, time and time again. The young dragon smirks at the hint of fear in Ailill’s eyes, preening at it. “well hello fellow traveller” the young dragon says, absently wiping a smear of blood from his cheek “I am Passifloraedulis, son of Hermes. Those who fight alongside me call me Pash, are you here to earn that privilege?” He deposits the owlcat carcass on the ground between them “Plenty more where this one came from”. Ailill swallows, suddenly nervous “I am Ailill, of the Holocene dragons of Clan CuChulainn. I come to invite you back to our camp, where we can provide food and treatment for any wounds.” Young Pash’s gaze softens as he realises this elder is not here for competition, and he does like the sound of a safe place to sleep without constantly watching his back. “Hm. Very well then” he says, and in addendum “Thank you. Thats a generous offer.” He pauses, considering. “You best lead on then” he finally states, preparing his wings for a long flight “wouldn’t want to keep your Clan-mates waiting.”
