Wings beat down strongly in the gales, fighting against the element itself. Hard snow swirled around him, blinding in its whiteness, creating a fog. It shoved against him, leeching off his warmth, causing shivers to run down his entire length. Blundering around in the misleading blizzard, he lost his bearings, unable to take directions from any of the reliable sources of stars or sun. Forced to depend on his own sense of direction, he attempted to head in what he hoped was the right direction.

            A sudden squall caught him, its strength overcoming his frantic efforts. Thrown around in the wind, he slammed into a rocky surface, cold claws scrabbling uselessly against the unyielding granite, wildfire lancing through his entire body, especially in his spine. Stunned and dazed, he slid off the rocks, dropping to the ground, bouncing on the various ledges as he fell. Pain clouded his thinking, silencing any noise he might have made. The dry cracking sounds were muffled in the howling winds. Hitting the ground with a sickeningly wet thud, he lay in a heap of abraded and lacerated flesh, mind sunken within the deep black depths of pain and unconsciousness.

            Groaning weakly, he opened his eyes, taking in everything around him. Snow, stained a deep scarlet, piled in clumps on and around him. Coniferous trees were around him, some crushed in his fall, others missing branches or having limbs dangling within the chill frost. Feebly, he lifted his head, and immediately dropped back down.

            Agony, like molten lava, burned through his nerves, eating away at the edge of his consciousness. Desperately ignoring the pain, he tried to rise from the snow. Lifting one forelimb, he pulled himself up, only to collapse, his other three limbs either fractured or broken totally. Wounds, ripped open from his exertions, dripped red into the snow. The biting winds dug mercilessly into his body, swarming directly into his bones, enhancing his pain, coating it with an icy layer of cold.

            Low growls in his throat, he dragged himself forward, towards the mountain base where he was sure, he could shelter from the worst of the winds. Inching the suddenly long distance, he left a trail, bloody and easy to read. Wolves howled in the distance, the moon accepting their calls silently. Having crashed to the ground close to the base, he managed to cover the distance before his strength gave out, before he lapsed into a sub-conscious state. Crouching behind a rocky outcropping, the winds beat against it, howling their banshee cries. Sheltered against the winds, his mind turned to his injuries and other matters.

            Some of his bones were fractured, others cracked. Through agonising experiments, he determined the state of his condition and winced. His two hind-limbs were cracked, but not broken as he had first assumed. However, his forelimb was an entirely different matter. Any movement on it would send waves of dizzying pain through him. Broken, he guessed. His main body escaped such major injury, but he could feel his ribs aching with every breath. Wings, one dislocated and the other still in reasonable condition, were not too badly-off as well. However, the rocky descent had cost him dearly. Deep gashes ran in jagged lines across his flank and legs. His muzzle itself had a scrape and the rest of him was covered in bruises or abrasions.

            Whimpering, he rested his head on the ground, soft moans of pain escaping him. The pain was rapidly taking over and he was afraid, for his life, for his survival. Wolf howls echoed, closer this time. He knew they would be arriving, coming. Their fangs, normally useless against dragon scales, would be very effective against him in his injured state. Too weak to fight, too injured to move now, he was helpless. It did not help that he was losing the battle to agony. Slipping deep into his mind, he left the concerns of the world behind, taking refuge within memories.

It was the same day, many decades ago. He could remember, the first sound, the crooning he followed, eyes not willing to open yet. He felt the warmth emanating from one side, from the same place the sweet sound came from. Turning blindly, he stumbled on the rocky ground. Tiny blunt claws had no purchase, allowing him to plant his face onto the ground, setting off a loud wail. A comforting presence surrounded him, making him feel less unhappy. Warmth pulled him closer, wings fluttering despite their uselessness. Opening his eyes at last, he could see his mother. The same azure eyes, the kind laughter within them. Chirping happily, he flounced forward, nearly hitting himself on the ground again. Latching onto her, he nuzzled her with his muzzle, making soft crooning sounds, the same as hers. He remembered her carrying him gently towards a deer chunk.

Squeaking happily, he let go, hopping over towards it. Pausing in-between it and his mother, he turned to face her. Torn between indulging his stomach and staying with the warm comfortable presence that was his mother, he hesitated, no wanting to choose one or the other. She just smiled and shoved him towards the meat with a gentle push. He rolled forward slightly, a bit puzzled but glad that his choice was made. Bouncing ahead, he gnawed at it persistently, finally coming away with a sliver of meat in his tiny jaws. Turning to her, he chirped, swallowing it. Biting down into the chunk, he dragged it towards her, stopping only when he was sure it was beside her. Then, satisfied that he had both the comforting presence and the meat, he indulged himself. Gnawing off a few more slivers, he turned to his mother, squeaking imperiously. She smiled before finishing the chunk. Happy, comfortable and full, he snuggled close to her, dozing off. In the half-state between sleep and wakefulness, he felt her cover him with a wing. Warmth enclosed him and he slept.

What was that day…? I don’t remember the time…

A few years after his birth, she left the cavern and he never saw her again. She smiled at him as she left, her powerful wings carrying her away into the bright light. He waited, perched on the cavern entrance. His wait broken only by sleep, he waited. Days passed and when she did not come back, he left in search of her. Learning to survive alone was not difficult. His first few years were spent under her tutelage, hunting and concealment. He had explored on his own, seeing the wonders of the world as only the young saw it.

Returning every few days, he waited in the cavern, always hoping that she would return. A decade later, as he was leaving the cavern, fully-grown and finally bereft of hope, he saw a dragon in the distance. Surging into the air to meet the dragon, he was disappointed to find it was not his mother. However, by then, he had guessed though he had not wanted to acknowledge that she was dead. The other dragon, her brother, had confirmed it. Glancing back at the cavern walls, the same place he had spent his first years with her, tears filled his azure eyes. Shooting into the skies, he heading aimlessly away, the bitter knowledge searing itself into his mind, searing away the innocence he had kept from dying with the hope that she would return.

When did she die…? I don’t remember the day…

He met her, his beautiful mate. Together, they swept across the seas, explored the continents, never staying one place for too long. Then, two or three years back, on the anniversary, she brought forth two young dragons. A grey and a black, one taking after him and the other, a mix. Leaving every day to bring back enough to feed them all, he was kept busy. However, the winters made it harder, forcing him to search further. The latest winter… on their anniversary… today…

Today… was the same day… that I met her, that I lost my mother, that I was born… and today, is the day… I will die…

The 19th sun of the mid-month…

He did not hear the wolves, nor did he feel it. Their sharp fangs dug deep into the carrion flesh but he did not flinch. He was too far gone.

19th sun of the mid-month… my curse, my blessing…