At the Edge of the Horizon (open)

Rheaorth was alone. He often was. Walking the boarders of the Firewing kingdom was how he spent most of his days. He liked being the first line of defense for his nation. It was an honorable position for him. Most days were spent up in the air, but a looming storm coming from the east made him think it was best to be grounded for the time being. The storm was far enough away that it wouldn't harm him if he took to the skies, but Rheaorth had enough experience with storms to know not to get in the middle of them. The largest scar at the end of his left wing was proof of his young stupidity. Being much older and much wiser, Rheaorth decided to play it safe.

After many, many years of patrolling the boarders Rheaorth knew the land and skies of these areas well. He knew that within a few hours he would arrive at a cave that was large enough to house him. He would make camp there until the storm passed.

(OOC: This is my first rp on this site so please do join me! Friend or foe is welcome.)

(Too lazy to get on Laceris. She is my FireWing, in case you're curious. ^-^)

It was a normal day for Laceris She was patrolling the FireWing territories, even though she was just a minute hatchling. The thrill of adventure and field study elated her, yet she wasn't sure why. She just really enjoyed watching and observing things.

Strolling along the pathway, she stumbled across another FireWing. Blinking, she watched them cautiously. True, they were a FireWing, however, she knew some FireWings could be hazardous; She had met many wild FireWings in her day, and although none had tried to directly hurt her, she never tried to get involved in their antics.

Cursith was gathering supplies for her forge, which was right on the border to the Firewings. No one even bothered to attack it, because it was really a waste. Now, walking back, with a load of branches, she trudged on. Cursith then saw two Firewings in front of her, a little one and a older one. When she saw them, she stumbled and fell, crashing into the pile of sticks. "Owww!" She cried as the branches clawed at her eyes.

Rheaorth occasionally knocked down a tree or crushed a boulder by accident while he marched along the reaches of the Firewing territory. Other than that, he was rather quiet aside from the rumbling of the earth below him with each step he took. In the sky above him, some small clouds were beginning to pass over head as if to escort the on coming storm. It was approaching faster than he had anticipated, but hopefully he would make it to his destination of the cave before the worst of the storm would hit.

Out of the blue, Rheaorth picked up a new smell. He had been so distracted by the wafts of oncoming rain that he hadn't noticed his immediate surroundings until now. There was another dragon near by, he could tell. It had been nearly three days since Rheaorth last saw another dragon. However, it's not like he missed seeing others. Rheaorth liked being by himself. He came to a full stop to focus on the scent and figure out where it was coming from and how far this dragon was away from him. There was nothing flying in the sky above him save the clouds, so it couldn't have come from there. Something was either following him or on the road up ahead.

Rhearoth let out a sigh through his nostrils that emitted smoke along with it. What did he care if there was another dragon? His instincts told him that there was not threat. He pressed onward once more keeping his focus on the area around him once more rather than only the storm ahead.

He noticed just a few yards ahead of him that a she-dragon had stumbled over herself and onto the pile of lumber she was carrying. She cried out in pain and clutched at her eyes in reaction to something. Rheaorth suspected they jabbed her eyes in some manner. She was much smaller than Rheaorth was. By the time Rheaorth had approached her, he scooted the sticks away from her and stacked them neatly for her to pick up once more.

Still clutching at her eyes, she could barely see. But a outline of another dragon, a larger male, came into view. Cursith glanced around for her load of lumber, but found it neatly stacked up, most likely by the mle. "Umm.. Thank you..." She said, embarrassed by her trip and crash. Curstih tried to pick up her sticks again, but found that she kept falling.

Laceris was watching the FireWings carefully, analyzing their every move. Her eyes burned with a desire to go talk to them, but she needed to stay hidden. She would be safest that way. After all, she still hadn't gathered all of her data, and she still wasn't one hundred percent sure these dragons didn't mean harm to her. Just because they were of her tribe didn't mean she couldn't find them aggressive. I mean, the statistics showed that there was a highly unlikely chance of them actually attacking her, and a less likely chance of them hitting her. She could calculate the distance it would take to dodge a blow from either side. She was small enough, and fast enough to be able to quickly avoid their attacks, with the right trigectory. She could easily get out of there before they even knew what was going on. At least, that's what Laceris believed.

But as Laceris was watching, she wasn't fully aware of what was behind her. During a border raid an hour ago, FireWings had been distracted by a group of rogues, trying to attack their territory. They had not, however, been paying attention to the lone rogue who had wandered his way onto the flaming pits that the FireWings called home. This particular rogue was cannibalistic, raised by wild dragons as parents, who had abandoned the ways of civilization. He didn't understand that dragons had lives, too, so he had turned to the life of a beast once again, not really caring for a civil life of hierarchy and rules.

Now he had stumbled onto Laceris, and seeing the tiny hatchling, he licked his lips. He wasn't about to pass up on a free meal, to indulged in her current observations to even notice him. With a quick slap of his claws, he ran towards Laceris. Lucky for her, she was able to sense the vibrations in the ground, and was about to run off when she heard the crackling of leaves, but was too late. Luckily, she had managed to run far enough so that he scraped the side of her body, leaving a bloody gash, but throwing her towards the members of her tribe. She screamed in terror and pain, her limbs flailing wildly as she crashed into the ground in front of them, crimson liquid oozing out of her wounds.

The wild dragon lunged forward, spit and foam drooling from its mouth, running straight towards Laceris, which so happened to be right in front of Rheaorth and Cursuth.

Rheaorth was done watching this she-dragon trip over herself and took a step along the same path he had been taking to get to the cave. He didn't have any more time for distractions or side shows. The storm was coming closer with every passing minute and would soon be upon them. It seemed as though today would not be Rheaorth's lucky day.

From out of the foliage behind him came a scream of pain and fear. Rheaorth craned his head around to find a young Firewing hatchling falling at Rheaorth's feet with blood dripping from her side. Rheaorth's eyes followed the line of blood to a hungry looking rogue dragon. The beast looked savage and full of ferocity, but he was much smaller than Rheaorth was and posed no threat to him. However, it was Rheaorth's duty to protect his fellow Firewings.

He turned fully to face the crouched rogue dragon. He stepped over the young hatchling so she was safe underneath him from her attacker. The rogue let out a hiss and roar at Rheaorth. The hatchling cried in fear and the clumsy she-dragon behind Rheaorth gasped. Rheaorth rolled his eyes, drew in a large breath and roared with all the strength of the loudest thunder. The rogue looked very startled by the magnitude of his concussive roar, but still he stood there prepared to strike.

"Take the hatchling," Rheaorth commanded of the she-dragon as he marched forward towards the rogue.

The rogue tried to fly around Rheaorth to get to the hatchling, but a large left claw from the mighty Firewing struck him down. The rogue yelped at pawed at his jaw as if it had been broken or dislocated, but Rheaorth was not done with him yet. He reached down, clamped his iron jaw down on one of the rogue's wings, and ripped the wing clean off like a leaf from a twig. Rheaorth spit the leathery wing out and watched as the rogue tried desperately to fly away. He could not get even an inch off the ground. Rheaorth considered himself a merciful dragon, so he put an end to the rogues life then and there by crushing his skull with one stomp to the head. He would not allow the creature to die slowly from blood loss. There was a chance that he wouldn't have died at all and might have gone after another hatchling from his tribe. Rheaorth wasn't about to let that happen.

With blood still fresh on his feet, Rheaorth turned back to the she-dragon and the hatchling. The she-dragon had abandoned her sticks in the middle of the path and took cover behind a nearby tree with the young hatchling crying in pain on the leaf covered ground. Rheaorth strode forward to examine the young dragon's wound. She was so tiny and much too small for Rheaorth to be of any medical use to her. He wasn't a healer in any case, but he had cauterized wounds many times after battles or fights for himself and others.

"She needs a healer," Rheaorth insisted the she-dragon in the low, almost monotone rumble that was his voice.

Laceris winced, and mewed. She could feel herself beginning to slip past the lines of consciousness and fall into a deep sleep. As much as she wanted to succumb to this feeling, to make the pain go away, she knew she couldn't. For if she did, she might never wake up again. So she tried to keep her eyes open, but she knew without medical treatment, she could die soon. She whimpered, and closed her eyes, panting in agony at the pain.

The young hatchling looked like she was starting to drift off. Rheaorth had seen the same look in many wounded dragons before death. He wasn't about to let her die today. Rheaorth laid out the hatchling as far as she would go without coiling back into a ball and held her there.

"This is going to hurt a lot, child, but it will stop the bleeding." Rheaorth warned.

Rheaorth extended the smallest of his claws on his free hand. Compared to the hatchling it wasn't that small as it was half her height. He breathed hot fire on it that would roast a bear instantly. Once the claw shown in bright orange with heat, Rheaorth lined it up with the hatchling's wound and pressed against her as light as he could. The hatchling's eyes widened with horror as she screamed in pain louder than she had when she was first attacked. Rheaorth couldn't blame her. Cauterizing wounds was a nasty thing to experience the first few times.

Rheaorth pulled his claw away, but the hatchling continued to cry. The she-dragon looked like she would be sick. Rheaorth looked up into the sky to see the storm looming dangerously close. It would arrive within the hour. He had no chance of making it to the cave before it hit, and this hatchling needed a healer. Rheaorth hated flying with a storm so near, but he had no choice if he wanted to save this child. He picked up the hatchling and held her in his massive left talon as his massive wings flung open and gave him lift off the ground.

(Still Cursith)
"Wait!" She rushed to Rheaorth, flapping as hard as she could. "I'll take the hatchling. I wanted to be a healer when I grew up, but the other dragons said I couldn't, because I was cursed with green stripes. I training in secret for a while, so I know the basics. Let's take shelter in my forge. It's very safe there from the storm; I even have a door."

(OOC: Is your forge big enough for Rheaorth to fit?)

Rheaorth looked passed the she-dragon and towards the sky. If she had a shelter nearby it was a safer bet than trying to brave the storm. Rheaorth could feel the burn scar from the last time he had gone through a big storm like that. He looked then to the she-dragon and nodded her on as if to tell her to lead the way. They headed off leaving a pile of sticks, a puddle of blood, and a dead rogue with a smashed skull behind them.

(Yeah. Cursith is not THAT small! xD)
Cursith lead the dragon and carried the hatchling to her forge, a cave with wood at the front to act as walls and a door.
(Short post before school!)

(OOC: Is there anyway you could add more to this? I have basically nothing to go off of here...)

(Sure)
Cursith lead the dragon and carried the hatchling to her forge, a cave with wood at the front to act as walls and a door. It was very rooms, with large fireplace in the back wall. Pots and many metals were displayed on shelves, and armor and weapons hung from the ceiling. "Welcome to my forge."