Author Note: This was written as a part of my studies (Creative Writing course) so nobody needs to worry about me 'abandoning' writing Godzilla's bride. The story is still in the works and progresses slowly. It just didn't fit the course assignments given themes (betrayal, loss, great expectations, or own theme if you had a suitable idea). I chose Loss as my theme as also fit my plans for this story, but I suppose you could also see fragments of some of the other themes in there.
This snippet about Grimize takes place in a future point of the story. At the end of the war he was separated from Tissal Riversong, the kender woman he reluctantly befriended during the war. After the war he tries to make his way to Kendermore in hopes of finding his friend. This may be considered a rough draft as the story has a long way to go before reaching this, and this may or may not end up being a separate story once I get that far. Grimize is not mentioned by name, because I knew the teacher would ask us why we chose the names we did and if we knew our characters well enough to say what they ate for breakfast or what kind of clothes they wear. I know everything about my characters, and I'm kinda disappointed he didn't ask anything about Grimize other than why I called him 'draconian' (he assumed I wasn't aware of its usual meaning).
Working title: The son of a dragon
The dragon-like man stood up, stretching his wings and arms before shaking off the morning dew condensed on his brass-coloured scales. Cripple-Wings, the crow that had kept him company for several months now, was already pulling the straps of his rucksack, eager to get some of the dried meat hidden inside. He limped closer and shooed the bird further away. A while later he tossed a few scraps of meat to it and scolded it: "Fat crow, stop being so greedy. I might mistake you for food if you grow too fat."
The crow paid no attention to the draconian man. He huffed at the bird and sunk his razor teeth into a chunk of boar meat. He usually ate meat quickly, but this boar's meat was one of the few exceptions he made. He savoured the sweet taste of revenge on the flesh as he carefully felt the progress of the partially healed wounds on his left leg and thigh. The boar caused the wounds, so it was only right that it now helped heal the wounds. He even licked his clawed fingers clean before reached for the closest bottle for a drink. He took a sip and instantly spat out the vile concoction he had finished brewing a few days before. He fought to keep down his food as his body was reminded of the violent hangover the brew had caused when he sampled it. "Urgh, wrong bottle, I thought I got rid of this stuff yesterday." He poured the contents to the ground and reached for bottle that actually had water in it and flushed the disgusting taste out of his mouth. The crow cawed as if it was mocking the draconian. "Stop laughing, Cripple-Wings, before you give me another headache."
He flushed and filled his bottles in the nearby stream. The chilly morning made his movements slow as he gathered his meagre possessions. Mist still shrouded the scenery in foothills of the mountain he was planning to climb that day. The climb would take a several hours, but by jumping off of the mountain he could glide over a long stretch particularly rough terrain and save several days of travelling. He carefully adjusted his rucksack so that he could use his wings freely. He lifted the crow onto his shoulder and headed towards the mountain. "You just sit right there. Once we get high enough we can glide far away and you stretch your wings on the wind once again. Who knows, with all the time we save by gliding, maybe we can reach Kerdermore by the end of the month. What do you think, Cripple-Wings?"
The crow stared at him silently.
By noon, they stopped for lunch. An eagle soared in the sky as the draconian and the crow ate a few scraps of meat. The lunch break didn't last long as the eagle swooped down and took away the crippled crow. The draconian's mind was fogged by the familiar madness of war and he leaped after eagle carrying his friend. When he woke from the red haze of war, next to a headless eagle, he found himself clutching the lifeless crow.
Later that day, he leapt on to his wings and began gliding towards his destination. A single feather from the crow's tail was strapped to his rucksack.