Apr 19 2020, 07:59 PM
Blight launched from Svartis almost at once, chasing the wisp that Bone had summoned. It didn't go very far, of course, but he went after it anyway, dipping and dodging this way and that as if to fight it, somehow.
The dragon hatchling grasped that his family was going to fight, though he wasn't picking up the finer details. He knew they wanted to beat up the thing that had harmed Svartis, though. Although he'd felt fear in his life, Blight had never known pain, so he was perhaps more flippant than he should have been when he declared, "I'll fight, too!"
The hatchling paused, and focused, looking around, for a moment. Then he turned away from the rest, and in a perfect parody of a dragon breathing flame, extended his neck and blew empty breath--or so it seemed--into the air. This breath, though, was magically-charged and full of foul bacteria; probably enough to give someone a real bad stomachache and a few hours off alone with their last meal. "SICK," he told them, very proudly, turning to stare back at his family.