((Last one for this morning, I need to go out into mean, computer-less world at a reasonable hour :P
This one also made me realise that Strun is a sad, terrible dragon with no friends xD))
It wasn’t often that Strunlokmaar didn’t manage to locate a mortal before they located him and started yelling and screaming. It was even less often that he didn’t locate a group of mortals before they saw him.
The squeals where high-pitched, easily giving away the location of a group of children scurrying for the cover of some nearby rocks, pointing up at the sky in panic and urging each other run even faster.
Any other dragon probably would have killed them on the spot; Strunlokmaar just found himself rolling his eyes, more than content with scaring the living daylights out of them with his mere presence. What kind of irresponsible parent let their child and his or her friends run around playing this far out in the middle of nowhere? Children were even weaker than most mortals, even when in groups made up their friends!
But then for the briefest moment he was back in Bromjunaar, on the outside half of the library’s balcony watching over the city. Krilot and some of the other cultists where sharing mead in the moonlight, laughing away. He was laughing with them, despite what his zeymah and briinah would think.
Back in the present Strunlokmaar roared in indignation and shook his head, lips curled back in a snarl. The screams, even louder and higher-pitched than before, fell on deaf ears as he banked and set off in the direction of the nearest giant camp that he was aware of. No, friends were for children.
Friends were for the weak.