DESERT ROSE THIRTY-FIVE
broken bones, set at home
They were almost there. One final leg and they'd be out of Hell itself. They were going to survive- all they had to do is glide and keep going. Thirty-Five took a moment to drift closer to the ground, resisting the urge to pant out the rest of his water. Another assessment was in store.
Slowly, the dragon tilted his head, conserving the muscles at the base of his neck for the long flight. He couldn't see his brother. Waves of heat prevented him from looking too far into the distance, though he could swear he saw that new Overseer. They'd be going to the finish, to welcome the survivors.
If only Thirty-Five could see who had survived. He didn't have time to worry over the blue fox, though, as movement caught his eye. A champion- one he faintly recognized. With eyes narrowed, he banked towards them, soaring on the heat lifting from the white salt below.
Quietly, he stayed by them, eyes picking them out as a dark splotch against the searing salt. He didn't know if he could trust them. They were so close to the finish, anything could happen.
Thirty-Five flicked his ear in thought, feeling his gem rub against the flesh around it. He could do something and sabotage them, guaranteeing his safety. The question was, though, how? There was nothing to do in this forsaken mineral desert. If he tried to kick up salt, maybe, or he could pry up one of the broken bits and lob it at them. That could work, but it'd take some effort to pull it up. The ground around was cracked, yes, but he'd risk burns even touching the ground. As for kicking up dust, the salt was probably way too packed to do anything with it.
It didn't hurt to try.
Sucking in a breath, Thirty-Five angled himself just ahead of the bird creature, wings beating to keep him up off the ground. Alright. One last push of energy. He didn't offer any word as he reached out his limbs to run on the ground, cursing and cussing loudly as his bare feet pressed into the loose, hellfire salt. This better be worth it. Lapis better be planning something.
Thirty-Five grit his teeth as he angled his wings forward. Even the act of extending them was pure pain. Right, this was just like flying. He just had to fly... Forward. While he ran. While getting as close as he could to the Lapis.
The dragon inhaled deep before giving his wings a few powerful flaps, hissing under his breath as he tried to kick up the loose salt into the competitor behind him. His claws were already kicking up a minor amount, and with the flaps he added in a double-leg kick with his hind legs after digging them the best he could into the ground. Hopefully the salt would pelt them or even get into their eyes or mouth. He didn't intend to hurt them permanently, at least, more just trying to force them back a bit and away from him. He couldn't trust the Gembound out here. Some distance didn't hurt, even if he had to force the other party to give it.
Satisfied, Thirty-Five angled his wings back down and used his speed to lift back off, his muscles screaming in agony as he gave two beats to rise into the air. Instant regret washed over him as he felt bile rising in his throat, his mouth betraying his wills and dropping out his tongue in a hearty pant. Heat flushed through his ears and across his stomach as he returned to his previous location, eyes and teeth clacked shut with lips parted to breathe heavily. He just had to make sure the feather didn't fly out.
He had to will himself not to cry from the pain. Water would not go to waste on such useless actions.