Fenrir
Fenrir climbed on along the bookshelves of his library. The shelves were made of marble and deeply inset, giving him 'handholds' without damaging the books sitting on the shelves. He was looking for a certain tome having to do with ancient relics. I seem to have misplaced it, he thought to himself. Where would it be? He moved to the shelf directly behind him, continuing his search but finding nothing. His stomach growled a bit. I will find this infernal book later, right now it's time for a snack. He dropped to the ground and land on his feet and wings, which served as forelegs when walking. Making his way through the winding corridors and flying up to a landing ledge, he looked out over the land. It was once a fertile and beautiful forest, but was now a crumbling wasteland. Fenrir hated what was happening to the land, it pained him to see the world dying.
Taking flight, Fenrir climbed to an altitude that would allow him to fly freely without being recognized as a dragon, he would simply appear to be a hawk or an eagle. He was probably going to have to fly out of the area to find anything to eat. The wasteland was home to nothing and hardly ever did animals move through it. He noticed a camp about seven miles from his mountain, the fire glittering against the dark ground. Now, I wonder who that could be. Then he noticed something creeping up on the camp. It was about the size of a human and resembled a large cat, about fifty yards away. Well, you're my snack now, whatever you are, he thought to himself. He swooped it lower as silent as any owl, the creature unaware of his presence. He could grab it up before it even realized what hit it, but decided not to. The creature looked up as Fenrir was upon it, the only thing it could do was howl in pain as the massive jaws of a dragon clamped down on it, killing the creature.
Fenrir flew right over the camp and landed forty yards away in a small cluster of dying trees that were still managing to stand to devour his kill. Grabbing the body of the creature dangling from his jaws with the two 'fingers' on one of his wings, he ripped it in half and swallowed. Then he tossed the other half up and snapped down on it, nabbing it right out of the air. Something caught his attention. A scent on the air that was familiar, coming from the camp he had passed over. He looked back at it seeing the fire again, this time seeing four figures huddled around it. The other three scents were not familiar, he didn't know them. But the fourth was his old friend Isaac. So... They've started looking already, he thought to himself. That old fool that likes to correct his opponents better pay me a visit if he's this close.