#right head: Skywing (frostbreath)

[otiksimr]

What about a cross between three tribes? I was thinking about a Skywing, Icewing, and Silkwing tribrid.

They hate each other <3

[some-pers0n]

Y'know somehow after all my years of rewritting WoF scenes for fun, I've never managed to tackle the prologue of TDP. Well, here you go. Blood/gore and character death warning, though you already knew what was gonna happen, huh?

In Hvitur's talons rested the fate of Pyrrhia.

Rain pelted against the IceWing as he flew through the storm, eyes scanning for any signs of shelter; of a place to hide. If he could only make it through the mountain pass he would be safe. The forest and cover of night would keep him hidden from the danger that lurked around.

He kept the egg clutched tightly. It was an unhatched dragon, one from the SkyWing tribe. This was the one night where everything mattered. He had to bring the prophecy to fruition. That was his one task: steal the SkyWing egg, bring it to a safe location, and then spend his years watching over the prophecy dragons. Being a Guardian to them.

Yet, not all of Pyrrhia believed in this prophecy. Some called it a hoax. A false sign of hope for this war to end. Others thought it was doomed from the start, to never be fully realized. However, there were a few who thought of it as an interruption to their plans. They believed it a nuisance. While some sang of peace and dreamed of it coming true, they saw it as nothing more than mad ramblings of harmony.

From the sounds of it, that last group was right behind him.

He glanced back to see three figures soaring only a tail length or two away. Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating their features. SandWings, with the middle boasting a large, intimidating presence.

She had found him.

"Seize him!" she hissed.

Hvitur tried to fly faster. He wanted to dive, shift upwards, roll to the side, anything. Instead, he flailed as the guards caught up to him in an instant. They swiped their claws at his wings, ripping holes in the membrane.

He let out a roar of pain as he flailed. He attempted to hit them with a blast of frostbreath, but their descent was too fast and too disorienting. The pain from his wings and the falling made his head spin. By the time they hit the ground, he could feel them getting to work holding him in place. He only then noticed them putting a restraint on his snout.

The cool hard earth of the cliff face was what greeted Hvitur. It overlooked a sharp drop, jagged spikes at the bottom. He held the egg still close to his chest. He had to protect it. Pyrrhia's future rested upon him.

But hope dwindled as she drew closer.

The SandWing was large, towering over him. She was covered in a myriad of scars. Burns, slashes, bites, anything. One such scar was a slash mark that trailed from her neck down to her mid-stomach. Her scales were dulled, only a dusty copper red now. Her horns were curved around her head akin to that of a ram's. Her obsidian eyes stared at him with barely contained malice.

"Thought you could use your little ice breath on us, didn't you?" Her forked tongue slithered in and out of her mouth. "A noble tactic, though one easily outwitted. You should've used your spiked tail, or perhaps your serrated claws."

Hvitur merely growled in response. "You are a monster, Princess Burn."

"Queen Burn," she corrected. "I am the true heir to the throne. The eldest and current holder of the crown." Her eyes narrowed. "You talk too bold for a weak, snivelling IceWing." She dragged her barbed tail along the ground, the sound of it scraping against the rocks burrowing into Hvitur's mind.

Her eyes locked onto the odd way Hvitur lay. His wings were over his body and his legs and tailed tucked in. With no hesitation, Burn grabbed hold of his ripped wings and pushed them aside to reveal what was underneath.

"A SkyWing egg..." she muttered. She reached for it.

"No! You can't take it!"

"Make me," she snarled. Despite Hvitur's death grip on it, Burn easily pried him away. She was far stronger than any dragon he had encountered.

"Queen Scarlet's outpost guards had told me of a little thief. I only went after you to add some flavour to my rather boring visit." She looked over the egg in her talons. "I wondered at first why an IceWing of all dragons would steal a SkyWing egg. That my spineless idiot of a sister had a new plan to annoy me. Then, I looked to the moons." She gazed up at the three moons overlooking them. They watched on with quiet apathy to the situation, shining brilliantly.

"The Brightest Night is tomorrow," she continued. "Then it made sense." She quickly raised her barb to his throat, only a claw length away from puncturing his neck. "You're one of those peacemongers, aren't you?"

Hvitur stared at the barb in stunned, shocked silence. His heart was beating rapidly.

"SPEAK!"

"Yes! Yes, I am with them. The Talons of Peace," he sputtered out.

"Yes, yes, whatever name you useless pacifists call yourself." She snorted. "Crying over split blood as if it weren't in our nature to battle. Pathetic. A conflict can never be resolved through discussion. Not this one."

She lowered her barb. "No, this war can only be stopped once the life drains from my sisters' eyes. I refuse to listen to the pleas of dragons who think otherwise. No dragon can tell me when I die or who I bow to."

"Haven't enough dragons died?" Hvitur snapped back. "Twelve years of bloodshed, and for what? Nothing? There'll be only more and more. More lives lost. More families torn apart. More death and destruction, and for what!? For you to rule?"

"Tighten the mouth restraint," she ordered the guard. "Again, crying over split blood. Death and tragedy is what make war. It's what makes those who survive rise above. They're stronger. They overcome and kill any who are weaker. It's only what a dragon does best: kill."

"The dragonets will come no matter what you say! They--" Hvitur was beginning to struggle to speak with the restraint closing tighter.

Burn looked over the egg in her talons. "You say that as though I cannot simply crush this egg." A crooked smile appeared on her face. "Perhaps I could shatter it between my claws. Or, maybe I could stab it with my barb."

"You wouldn't..." Hvitur mustered. Even Princess Burn couldn't hurt a dragonet egg, could she?

That smile twisted into a grin. "Wouldn't that be even more tragic?" she asked. "No 'wings of sky' to save the world. What a sad tale for you worthless little worms. Queen Burn, the ruthless blood-lusting monster, destroying the prophesied egg before it could ever come to fruition." She walked over to the edge of the cliff. "With that, no dragonets came to save Pyrrhia, and she ascended to her rightfully earned throne. Oh, doesn't it tug on the heartstrings?" She held the egg dangerously close to the ledge.

Hvitur looked at her with a wide, panicked expression. He thrashed as she held it over the cliff face. "Please..."

Burn looked him dead in the eyes. She let out a sarcastic, dramatic sigh. "So much for destiny, I suppose." With it, she let the egg slip out of her claws, hurling towards its demise.

"NO!" Hvitur yelled. He tried with all of his might to break away. To lunge at her. To try tearing Burn to shreds for what she did.

"Enough with that!" Burn barked back. She raised her barb, this time stabbing it right through Hvitur's neck. Pain rippled throughout his body as the barb pierced through his scales, going right into his flesh.

He lurched. His mind raced as he tried to process the intense agony. Words failed him. Whatever half-baked insult or threat he could toss at the monstrous SandWing silenced by the blood in his throat.

Burn loomed over the shaking body of the IceWing. She tisked. "This is what you pacifists get." With it, she dragged him closer to the edge, letting his body ragdoll off of the cliff. The barb slipped out of him, and Hvitur fell to his death.

The prophecy was ruined. Pyrrhia was lost.