CHARON
The very mountains whisper your name...

Charon was barely conscious as Labradorite shoved him further onto the shore, his head landing on a rock so that it didn't fall and end up killing him by accident. He coughed weakly and twitched, struggling to get his limbs to respond.

Finally he inhaled and threw up everything. His last meal, water, stomach acid. He crawled away and rested in the sand, his scales turning a dusty beige as it stuck to his wet hide. It was many minutes before he gathered up enough strength to stand, yanking himself out of the water and hissing at it, staggering sideways and nearly falling again.

With droopy eyes he started to drag himself away, head low and pride bruised, the taste of failure not something he particularly liked. He'd flee to Ursa, lick his wounds, and find a way to restore his damaged ego.

@V-Labradorite-One
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Its first taste of freedom turned bitter in its mouth.

It had few real encounters with those outside the forge. Would they all be like this? Start with threats and end in bloodshed? Those who assisted Farina didn't seem to be that way, but Khavur had been among them. And had they taken part out of a willingness to help, or greed for potential rewards? Why had it decided to help?

Maybe it should've left the dragon in the water, saved future visitors to this beach from potential violence and injury.

A smoky quartz, the color of the oil-and-blood soiled water surrounding it.

But it didn't.

Instead, it watched Charon, until he began to drag himself away from the beach. Then the Labradorite slunk off into the underbrush. It would lick its own wounds, maybe hunt a meal for itself and another to bring back to the forge.

And then it'd go home.

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