Glory watched the wolf run away with a grim satisfaction. The fight was over and he was the victor - evil had been punished. But now that it was all over with, he suddenly felt all the burns covering his body flare horribly and he staggered forward from the pain. He lowered himself and folded his legs so that he was roosting where he had been standing, his wings spread uselessly at his side. Now that the enemy was gone, his weakness was on full display.
But he still had the energy to answer Dread's questions.
He shook his head, wondering if it was even possible to take on a whole group by himself if they were all like that.
Dread listened, and then--as best a dragon could--he shrugged. Though his tone and demeanor were completely indifferent, there was every possibility that he would think, later, on Glory's moral choices.
Maybe.
"I would have eaten. Less trouble, later," he growled. He didn't really care about the torturing thing--he'd never encountered that sort of thing and had no real frame of reference for it. His senses of empathy and sympathy were certainly somewhat dulled compared to other Gembound.
For Glory, though, now that the bird was near collapse, he finally realized that he was concerned--at least a little. He lowered his head down, craning it around to again sniff at the eagle.
"Do you want me to bring you to my den? There is food. And it is warm. Safe," he added. "Safe to rest, there. I think it bit you." He said this as if Glory was somehow unaware--very matter-of-factly informative.
He did not realize that Glory had also burned himself. It didn't really matter, anyway; an offer to share the den (even temporarily) was as generous an offer as Dread had ever given anyone, and he couldn't have offered much more.
@Glory
Glory chuckled at Dread's obliviousness to the morality of his decisions. While it wasn't actually that funny, it was nice to know that he, at least, was something steadfast and totally neutral. He would never be like the dragon, with strong opinions and nobility and honor. He could never stay so neutral, so self-centered. But he was okay with Dread being that way. He wasn't evil and he was reliable and a surprisingly good friend.
He nodded weakly at the dragon's offer, his pride thrown aside at this point.
The dragon grunted, considering.
"I will find some," he responded. "There is water in the canyon, but it is hard for me to fly there. Too narrow," he added. "But I can walk there, and bring some back." Even as he spoke he was moving forward, and after his words came to an end, he leaned down. Massive jaws yawned open, the dagger-fangs surprisingly gentle as he cautiously tried to pick Glory up--in his entirety.
He then turned, and began a thumping run across the stone floor, wings spread. A few beats and he was in the air, slowly rising with rhythmic sweeps of his body. A sinuous undulation rode through his form as he ascended, the eagle still firmly but carefully held in his jaws, his flaming eyes fixed upward on his den.
A few moments later he rose over the ledge, and then leaned back, tail raking back and forth to balance him as he slowed himself for descent. The moment his clawed hind limbs hit rock, the dragon lurched forward, his wings folding in to catch him. His neck stayed arched, so Glory wasn't flung about at this point--and then Dread extended his head forward, carefully spilling the eagle out. It had been a dry ride--the dragon's mouth was warm, and noticeably not too damp--so hopefully the bird wouldn't be slobber-soaked.
Eyeing over his shinies--the armor, the baubled stones, the singing crystals--and then Glory, Dread at last spoke with reluctance. "You may look at my shinies... and touch them," he grumbled at last, "but they are still mine! I will find water."
But after speaking the dragon simply stood there for a time, staring, as if hesitant to leave anyone else alone with his stash.
Or maybe he was giving Glory time to speak.
@Glory
Any other time and Glory would have been very much not okay with being picked up like a child. But he was exhausted, he was hurting all over, and he knew he wouldn't be able to fly with his wing in that condition. For a day or two at least. So he reluctantly let Dread lift him and tried not to squirm with discomfort as he was flown to the dragon's den. It was a horrible sensation, being flown around and not being able to control where he was going. He was very thankful when he tumbled onto the stone, flopping over pathetically.
He stumbled to his feet and staggered towards a nice looking dip in the rock, huddling himself down once he got there, sitting on top of his talons comfortably. His eyes drooped for a second, but he shook out his head. He needed to treat his burns first. He glanced over Dread's large collection and chuckled.
He looked up at Dread and blinked, suddenly a little bashful. He didn't often thank others for things and he didn't want to admit that he had maybe needed any help. But the dragon had performed honorably, in his opinion.
The dragon listened, a little blankly. He remembered "thank you," and that he was supposed to say it. He'd learned that very well.
But what was it that others said afterward? He racked his brain, for a moment, but came up empty, and so wound up staring for awhile at Glory before he responded. What he should have said was "you're welcome," or perhaps a quiet questioning of what had happened, or tending to the eagle's needs. Instead, he abruptly belted out--"It is good you are not dead!" and then turned, crawling his way right off the cliff's edge.
His wings unfurled and again caught air, and he swept down to find the eagle water.
He would be gone for some time; he'd have to search the gorge for a place to land, and then scoop water into his jaws. Eventually he'd return, spilling the water out onto the ledge before Glory. Except, by the time he got back, the exhausted bird would undoubtedly need to be awoken; but for now, the dragon had his task, and the eagle his... to sleep.
//exit Dread
@Glory
Glory chuckled at the dragon's response.
When he had left, Glory found himself unable to really stay awake for much longer. Trying to forget the horrific images he had seen from the wolf's magic and trying to think about something else then the pain on his body, he tucked his head underneath his good wing and drifted off to sleep. And his dreams were filled with fire and golden eyes and the snarling of wolves.
*exit