I KEEP FALLING DOWN! IF YOU COULD ONLY SAVE ME,
The beast could still feel the burns on his scales, the searing heat of the Sun God. Even as he slept, he dreamt of the battle, gory and without glory. It didn't matter what Amegon did against the Sun God, the great destroyer would scorch his body into oblivion. Sear his bones into ash, and let him fall from the sky. Falling, falling, falling, without fail. Countless times in his mind did the dragon scheme up ways to defeat the destroyer, the devourer. But every time he tried a new technique, a new power, a new strength, it was stripped from him. And he would be falling, falling, falling, without fail.

The dream happened every night. A history he'd lived out far too many times. The chorus of praise, the smells of incense burned for him, the sights of offerings hounded his mind. Mortals would cheer his name before battles, crown champions in his name. Mortals would watch as he drove storms, rain for crops, to their homesteads and farms. Those who wronged him would cower as he brought great tropic rains down upon them, conjuring kingdom-destroying storm systems as though it were nothing. But even that would not stop him from the inevitable fate that be felled him, just like every other major god of his home.

Vastitas, great Sun and Destroyer, had attacked without hesitation or cause, scorching all lands. Amegon was one of the last Major Gods to hold out, and one of the few who lost all their powers in the aftermath. The fight was harsh, taxing on both mind and body as the two flooded and burned lands. When compared, the tiny jackal would have hardly been a match for a great serpent, but looks were deceiving, and the tiniest creatures could tip the scales of a fight.

Praises and offerings did little to help as he plummeted, staring up at the jackal god, who stared down with white eyes. Falling faster, faster, the ground coming closer, closer. Amegon tried to summon his storms, his winds, but could not. The Sun had burned away every essence of godly aspect the dragon had to his name. Falling faster, faster. Falling, falling, falling, without fail. He risked a look below. The ground came closer, closer, closer-

The beast woke up with a jolt, head lifting from the slumbering coil he had been in. Moonlight illuminated his muscular body as he slowly unraveled himself, a frustrated rumble leaving him. Standing, he started to slink further into the forest, untouched by groups. Glowing blue eyes scoured the underbrush, nose sniffing, whiskers feeling around. He snorted, coming across a river, and crouched by the bank.

Dipping his horned muzzle into the cold waters, he drank slowly, methodically. Movement nearby was acknowledged with a flick of his ear, and he watched from the corners of his eyes as a wolf approached the water. He growled, watching as the other growled back. A challenge. The dragon lifted his head, and slowly turned to face the canine. When that did not scare the beast away, he stood to his great height.

He wordlessly screamed, a fierce roar he hadn't done in years. And when the wolf started to run, he gave chase. Crashing through the thicket and brushwork, roaring in between galloping strides, he chased the wolf down until the two were far away from the river. By that time, Amegon had stopped chasing the wolf, who continued to run into the brushwork. With a dignified snort, he turned and walked toward the river, giving loud calls to ward off any smart creatures from it.