fire, feathers, and a little bit of gore // vale and renlys

[Renlys]

Warmth.  It was hard to oneself consistently warm when one had so much mass.  Renlys could not merely sprawl in a thin ray of sunlight cast upon a branch and be warm for the day.  No, instead he had to venture out into the desert during the dusky hours of the night and bury in the still-warmed sand like a common earth drake.  It was the slightest bit demeaning in Renlys' own mind - his domain was the sky and sea, as lord of...

Ah.  Well.  Renlys was lord of nothing, prince of no kingdom, and king of no lands.  The crown of horns that adorned his head meant nothing in this world.  His gods did not look down on him with blessings of rulership.

And so he would bury in the hot sand of the desert, purring at the heat that enveloped his body.  Warm, sun-baked sand.  And then very suddenly, hot sun-baked sand.

The dragon lifted his head, nictating membranes flashing across his eyes, clearing away the dust.  Scorched sand fell away from his shifting body in blackened clumps.  Hm.  As far as he knew, sun rays could only do so much damage, and certainly not at night, even in the harsh vastness of the desert.  He peered upwards and a smile immediately curled his stony features.  Vale.  Vale, who flew barely visual to the common eye against the inky black sky.  The dragon let out a welcoming screech, a beckoning.  Come down, come down was his wordless plea.