There was only a few moments of peace before the distant sky erupted in flame. The waves rippled from the distant force of heat and magical prowess, crashing loudly against the stone fortress that Knell perched upon. His scarlet eyes were wide as he watched the show, breathless. That was what Dread was: a force of hellfire, powerful and godlike.

And-- it was important to note-- Knell was his son. What else was his father capable of? Curiosity and awe danced around his stomach like excited butterflies, and he leaned forward further until his weight swayed dangerously over the edge of the ledge as Dread's form appeared on the horizon once more. Teeth clacked together at the sight of the charred husk between his father's talons.

His jaws parted and he breathed out another super-heated breath, gemstone sparking, but there still was no flame. Not yet. He could feel his power ready and waiting to be let loose... He would bring fire, someday, too, on unsuspecting deer.

He rose, clumsily flapping at his father as he backed up to make room for the successful hunt.

Knell needed little prompting to come forward and snap his teeth at the burnt flesh, tearing the skin off with a keen hunger. He wasted no time in digging in, the taste of seared deer meat his first and suddenly favorite meal. (It would likely remain so for a long time.) He listened as he ate, though he appeared quite focused on tearing as much flesh from the bones of the carcass as he could.

There were more dragons (he assumed all of his family were dragons), but none had come at the roaring of Dread or the fresh catch of deer. Perhaps they were elsewhere...? Did they not want to see him? No, that couldn't be. He paused, craning his head up to peer at the distant cave-horizon.

"Where is family?" Knell asked, his tone sharp with impatience. "They miss me!" And how unfair was it to have such a pitiful welcoming community. His father was great, truly, but the rest of his family had failed to show up on the most important day of his entire life so far. The first and only one.

@Dread

Dread watched with a sort of indulgent, alertly protective satisfaction, much as a bird of prey observing his chick consuming its first meal while he himself mantled overhead.

His gaze was more watchful than normal, ember eyes flicking over clouds and distant trees, watching for any potential threat to his child. When Knell spoke, he looked down. "THERE WAS A BATTLE," he explained, neck-spines rising faintly like hackles at the memory. It was with the excitement of the memory, though, rather than nervousness or the like. "I FOUGHT THERE BUT CADENZA BROUGHT THEIR CHILDREN AWAY TO BE SAFE. THEY ARE LIVING WITH CADENZA'S OTHER DAD. THEIR LIFEGIVER." It was a little mournfully said; as far as Dread was concerned, Leo was by far the safer option. They had easily (in his mind) driven off the forces of Order and even Chaos, and there was none of that lingering mold here like there was throughout the rest of the caves. This was the place for dragons.

"BLIGHT IS. SOMEWHERE. HE SLEEPS DURING THE DAY. I COULD FIND HIM IF YOU WANT TO MEET HIM," he added; his magic would probably be enough to find the dragon's heartbeat-signature wherever he might be resting. "BUT THE REST WE CAN GO AND MEET ONCE YOU CAN FLY." 'They miss me' he left alone, because he wasn't sure what the child meant.

He paused, studying Knell again. "I HAVE MAGIC THAT MAKES THE AIR GO UP. WHEN YOUR WINGS CAN CARRY YOU WE CAN PRACTICE!" There was little Dread enjoyed more than burning things, but 'drifting on Leo's wild updrafts' was easily second on the list.

@Knell

A battle? Knell looked up at Dread, nostrils flaring. Cadenza had left to be safe... As though there would be a danger that could threaten them that his father could not vanquish? Perhaps Cadenza's children were of a frail, delicate sort. He considered this, blinking one eye and then the other.

The rest of the family-- well, Blight, at least, was a vague "somewhere". Knell had decided that the vagueness of Dread's replies were unhelpful and lame. He stifled his frustration for the moment, letting out only a disappointed snort.

"Blight sleeping," he grumbled. "He can sleep."

At this point, he was beginning to feel restless. His belly was full now, and the promise of being able to meet the rest of his family (shame on them for not being here, still!) was a good amount of motivation. He ran his tongue along his beaked maw, shuffling backward to rear up on his hind legs once more.

"Ready," ready to try, anyway. Knell didn't know the word "try", though, on a metaphorical level. He did know what failure was, but he had no intention of failing now that he had some time to rest, recover, and feast.

With a deep rumble in the core of his chest, he raised his wings and began to flap them, using all of the muscles through his limbs and into his chest. He kicked himself into the air, each down-stroke driving him a smidge higher and higher even with gravity trying to pull him back down.

"Practice! I'm ready!" He crooned, kicking his hind feet with a wild, reckless sort of eagerness. His tail swatted at the stone below as he strained to rise into the air above.

@Dread

Dread quickly shuffled to one side to get a look at Knell's technique. Almost at once he was bellowing advice, most of it useless. "YOU HAVE TO FLAP REALLY HARD," was what he started with, followed by the admittedly maybe-more-useful "YOUR TAIL WILL HELP YOU BALANCE!" and a couple other shouted directives.

Then it was on to fatherly 'help.'

Dread--who was a skilled and experienced flyer--occasionally (and mostly in times of dire need) utilized an upward blast of wind to keep himself airborne. If, for example, he were tackled or there was a downdraft, it could save his life. It didn't really occur to him that a violent gust wasn't the best way for a child to learn.

So when he roared "I'M GOING TO HELP," he really did mean it. He rocked back, wings sweeping backward and bracing before plunging forward in a sweeping thrust. Imbued magic sent a cascade of dust-swirling air to hoist Knell higher, in a coil of stormy wind.

It was, in his defense, an updraft of sorts. And it wasn't impossible to ride; it was just... a little abrupt, that was all.

@Knell