ORIGIN

Dread considered this question.

"Fast," he decided gruffly--and at once lurched into motion. Hopefully the unsteady nature of his barreling forward, on wings and legs, would be enough to convince Siren to grip for her life--because Dread, himself, wasn't a mature enough adult to be any sort of decent babysitter and mention as much.

When he'd picked up speed, he leapt into the air--wings catching the warm Monoceros wind, powerful beats bringing him upward. The ground fell away--but he did not go too high, aware that Siren might fall, and be wounded quite badly if she fell from enough of a distance. That said, simply to keep his wings from brushing the ground required a height that could well be fatal.

Monoceros passed by in streaks of orange rock and twisted trees. In the distance, the Twister howled over the dark gap of the Gorge below. But Dread didn't circle back, didn't wander around for Siren to sightsee. They had a goal to get to.

He swept forward, a neat glide and a slight banking bringing him around toward Glory's forge. A moment more of flight and he carefully drove in for a landing; instead of rearing back and landing on his feet, he instead barrelled forward, keeping his angle the same so as not to throw Siren off. When at last he'd come to a stop he paused.

She was too small to feel on his back. "ARE YOU STILL THERE?" he demanded, twisting his head to try and peer back. "This is it."

A shake of his neck, spines clattering, purely to scratch some itch or other. He turned to peer down at the child who had now dismounted, and something new--something he'd never felt, some vaguely protective instinct--flickered through him, here-and-gone. "Yes! Or if he is not, he will be." He gave a huff, smoke coiling up from jaws and nostrils.

"Wait here for him, if he is not in his forge. GLORY!" he bellowed, his roar echoing over the rock--but there was no response, and Dread shook himself again. "I will return and check on you!" He didn't exactly say why he was leaving. "Stay hidden here, and you will be safe." That faint protective urge again.

The dragon reached his massive head forward, going to offer Siren a gentle nudge--reassurance, perhaps? "MAKE GOOD SHINIES," he then--demanded? Encouraged? It wasn't exactly clear, but it was probably far too loud this close to the kid.

The dragon then turned away. "Tell Glory that I brought you here!" It was important, he thought, that Glory know this was a friend--and more than that, to take FULL credit if she somehow turned out to be useful. It didn't occur to him that Siren might steal everything in Glory's forge while he was out.

Oh well.

Dread turned, charging over the sand and leaping into the air again, wings beating bass thumps as he flew back off, toward the Gorge and out of sight.