Berseth

Bright orange silks and warm feathers, friends with love overflowing.

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         Berseth always liked dressing up, ever since he was a hatchling. Sneaking away his mother's jewelry to drape over himself in front of a dirty mirror, stealing scraps of silk from the tailor to the tie around his wrists and rub until its frayed. He's a romantic too, constantly dreaming of dancing in the candlelight and watching the sunset day after day. He thought of love quite a bit, some soulmate out there and good friends aplenty.  Instead, here he was, curled up in a dark, damp cave with ragged feathers and not a pretty bauble in sight. Figures. He sneezes wetly, moaning to himself. And he was sick too. Just his luck. He had been trying to get to the Starfall Isles for some rich client who wanted a fancy dress or two-Berseth's head felt much to foggy to remember- and had decided to cut across the plague land borders. Not a smart idea, he knew, but he had been traveling for a few days already and hadn't been able to find a group that would take him with. He figured he would be alright if he was just inside the border-barely there at all-but the pack of wild mirrors said otherwise.

        He had stumbled across a cavern while scurrying away, one much to skinny for the muscled forms of the mirrors but perfect for Berseth's thin body. Minus his luggage, which he could hear them rifling through after they stopped trying to follow him into the cave. He had laid there feeling sorry for himself for a good while, until he could no longer hear the mirrors and the pinkish-red light of sunset was poking through, and was laying there still. Well, Berseth was never known for his amazing self-esteem. He figured he should move, crawl out of his hole and pick his way back home. He sneezed again. His limbs felt heavy. It would be alright for him to take a nap, wouldn't it? He had already lain here for deity knows how long and nothing had attacked him. And the entrance was rather well hidden, he didn't think he would have found it if not for literally tripping over it. He closed his eyes, shifting back and forth and praying his headache would go down. 

        Then he heard the growl.

        Because of course there was some growling, dragon-eating creature in his nice little safe spot. Of course. He opened his eyes slowly, dreading whatever would be in front of him. Which was...a dragon. At least, Berseth thinks its a dragon, what with its wings and claws and tail and very dragon like snout. Although it didn't have forearms. Oh! This must be one of those Banescales he heard about that had just emerged. It matched the descriptions he heard well enough. It snarled again, although it was more of a curious sound, now that he took the time to listen. The beast cocked its head, staring inquisitively. Berseth cleared his throat, preparing to speak. His voice was barely a rasp, and he cringed at the soreness in his throat. Guess he was sicker then he thought. The Banescale huffed at him, nudging him with its snout, before turning and padding farther into the cave. It paused a little ways in, looking over its shoulder and chirping at him, seeming to ask a question. Was he supposed to follow? He heaved himself to his feet, trudging slowly after. The creature chirped again, a happy sort of sound,  and continued farther into the caverns.

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