Discordia

*serves as head security inside the lair.
*smells of ozone and arcane and cold iron

Iron was a familiar taste but the feeling of hard-packed ground beneath her scales was not. The wildclaw attempted to rouse herself but consciousness was a fickle fleeting thing. A churning daze settled over her mind like a dew-heavy web.

"You lost. You lost. You're weak. unfit. Your partner is mine."

"How dare you-..." Such a quiet pitiful noise from a familiar voice. Her partners voice. Samson's voice.

"oh, I dare. I'm the only one in the clan that dares, If I do dare say so myself. You aren't welcome here anymore. This clan is mine now."

Discordia pried her eyes open to the sound of approaching footsteps to see a tiger-struck shimmering figure stagger up and flee, unsteady legs lurching across the desert. Blurs of black and red. brown and blue chased after him. She prayed to the Arcanist for her lovely Samson to turn his head back. And by the gods, he did.

Their eyes met and never had she seen his gaze so full of fear. guilt. regret. Such a gaze spurred her to move and as she struggled up, a claw lazily shoved her back down into the bloody dust, kicking up loose tufts of lavender and seafoam feathers.

"Might makes right for dragons like you, doesn't it love? Well, I won. So I'm right, aren't I?"

There wasn't a single scuff on the pearlcatchers scales... They hadn't landed a single scratch. They hadn't even had a chance.

"yes."

Mintaka's eyes glowed once again, static breath coalescing between the pearls fangs. This was it. This was her end. How stupid she had been to be goaded into a duel. She squeezed her pink eyes closed. The magic licked the bruises away, the wounds clean.

"Good. You'll follow me then. Me. and Amarath. and Alice."