Snippet #2174063

The dragon stirred slowly, mind buzzing and stinging with false welts and sores. He didn't dare to open his eyes, nor move more than he had to. But he had to get out of the open, find Rania, and get to her. She wouldn't be thinking straight after the Queen's death, stars rest her lightly. Through sheer will, he blinked open his unfocused eyes and cleared the sleep from them with a few more blinks. Everything was doubled and blurry, and there was naught he could to to repair it. His consciousness had been badly damaged in the assault, the black dragons were fiercer than any he had ever seen and had a sort of unbridled hunger to get into the city. There had been nothing he could do to defend the inhabitants. He had failed, not only Crystacia, but the Queen and Rania.

Rania. He had to find her. Nothing was accomplished through vision, so he shut his eyes and used hearing and smell to guide him to his shaky feet. Naught could keep him from getting to her, from saving her. If he was in this bad of a condition, she would be in worse. His knees shook and wings quivered as he managed to become upright. It didn't last long. One knee buckled and he toppled forward to the ground, a chaotic pile of white and gold. He growled with frustration and tried again with more vigor, tossing his head with frustration at his weakness. His horns swung about, and he hoped no pedestrians were nearby. If anything it would ward off any black dragons that came to pick at him.

There was nothing you could do, now hold on, I'm coming!

(Note, he is unaware as to where he is)