A Slave of the Past (Open)

Atarijor XVI landed at the southern-most end of the SeaWings' beach. He had flown here nonstop from the IceWings' territory. The humans living there had chased him off rather than accept his service, even when he spoke to them in their tongue. The Wyvern's wild-born brethren had unknowingly forsaken him. No matter which settlement he went to, Atar was chased away with threats of death. The humans into whose servitude he had been born, it seemed, had vanished. All he wanted was to go back to the life he knew. This one, living among his own kind, was unfamiliar. It scared him. And yet... going back to being a slave scared him as well. The poor beast was confused. He was tormented by nightmares and just wanted peace. He had searched to no avail for the two dragons that had escaped captivity with him. Things might be a little better if he could just find them. Maybe they had fared better and could help him adjust... Or maybe they were suffering like he was. Atarijor looked around and started walking along the beach. Maybe there were some humans here that would take him in.