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Vellana never ran...

Never... but this... this was too much... She was barely aware of the warm liquid pouring from the gash in her neck, the searing pain that nagged from her poisoned bloodstream.

She had weakened the monster, was it a monster? Looked like it. She had weakened it with several thousand volts. But it wasn't enough, she wasn't enough. Not alone.

Dammit.

How could she allow herself to be so damnably weak? Wasn't it enough that she let herself be stung?

The dragoness tore through the desert, trying hard to breathe in spite of the sweltering heat that rose in waves from the cracked surface of the ground. Maybe she could find some spot to hide, wait until it was dark. Or the... thing pursuing her would just find her.

Heart pounding out of her, chest she ducked into a shallow indent in a nearby rock. Not an adequate hiding spot, should the creature decide to take more than a cursory glance in this direction, but enough to buy her some time.

Hopefully.

Still, she couldn't quite steady her breathing, or calm the heaving of her stomach. It wasn't hard to hear the thing drawing closer. No. She wasn't safe here. It would be stupid to remain.

With a deep breath she was off again, bolting toward the oasis. She knew where it was. Sort of. With any luck, the guards at the outpost would be there and prepared to help her. All there was was to hope. That they were there. That innocent caravans weren't.

Damn.

She couldn't lead it to the oasis. She couldn't take the risk. If even one person got killed... No. Dammit.

The bronze dragon fired off another fleeting bolt of lightning toward her opponent. A satisfying screech met her ears, fading as she put distance between them. Not dead. Certainly not dead. But not happy. Close to death? She hoped so.

"s**t!"

A curved tail swung toward her again, warning against every moment she wasted trying to rest. Even a second could end her life. A dragon ended by some mundanely poisonous creature in a desert. It was impossible to get much more pathetic than that.

She could smell the thicket. The dense scrubby mass of spines that grew on the edges of the desert. Easy enough for her body to wriggle in, only the slightest tearing of clothes and skin as she found her way into the thickest depths of the brush. She could hear it thrashing about, trying hard to follow her. A hissing laugh of relief escaped the dragon's throat. It couldn't break through. Another soft barking laugh as the rustling died down and the adrenaline began to wear off, leaving only the dull burning ache of the poison in her system.

"Damn..."

If she could just make it home, she could heal herself. It wouldn't take much. A poultice draw out the venom, herbs to ease her breathing. She knew she was going to survive.

She always had before.

The sunset blazed crimson through the forest fire's smoky haze. The dark would be upon them soon.

The smell sickened her, she wished it less familiar but every year it came, acrid and foul. It was renewal she had to tell herself. Without the yearly blazes thinning the forest it would only be worse. More kindling for the flames. Vellana stalked through the black and red of the burning wood, there was no reason to mourn. No reason to grieve for what would be born again in the spring. Every birth was awash in blood, after all.

Better the trees than the creatures that lived in them. She had to remind herself of that as she blackened her fingertips on the bark of a dead tree. A few curling, burning wisps rained down from above, smoldering bright before fading to a dusty grey.

The birds had all flown at the first sign of a blaze, clever creatures. A lot smarter than some of the supposedly more intelligent forest dwellers, remaining in their houses until she forced them out. They probably hated her for it, if they even realized that she was the source of the blind terror that had driven them forth. She couldn't be bothered to care. If their lives were saved by fear so be it. They should be grateful.

The sun had sunk below the horizon, leaving only a weak sliver of light through the shadows. The deep red of the flames licked at the darkness, as though trying to fight it off. Watching it from above, from her perch in the trees she could almost imagine the forest was a living creature, the flames its blood running through it. The smoke... it's breath, steaming on a cold night.

Maybe a red dragon, glowing with the anticipation of a hunt in the morning to come.

It was tiny, the little owlet that squeaked frantically from the base of the tree. It was damn near miraculous that it had survived the heat and smoke. Perhaps it was the fall that had saved its life, bringing it safely beneath the veil of smoke while breaking its little wing.

Poor creature. Vellana had no way of knowing if its mother had survived the blaze, but there was no way that she could leave it to suffer and die on its own. It hadn't seemed hungry at first, but with its wing gently bound against its body, and mild pain herbs applied, the little bird had grown eager to eat the soft stewed and shredded meat she had prepared for it.

Still, the bronze dragon couldn't help but smile as the owl slept, huddled down against the feathery nest she had set up for it. The baby would be awake soon enough, it never seemed to sleep for long. She supposed this must be what parenthood was like, never more than a moment's rest from caring for it. Putting its box on her bed hadn't done all that much good, just kept her awake in paranoia that she might roll over onto it. Or that she might discharge electricity in her sleep and kill it. Its home would be on her side table. For now.

She couldn't bring herself to put the helpless bird in a cage. It hadn't done anything to deserve that. And her own convenience couldn't justify it. Especially since it seemed that all it wanted was the warmth of contact. She was more than happy to oblige its wants. It had already lost so much, giving the love it desired, well, that was only being a decent person to a little lost bird.

Vellana didn't realize that she had dozed off when the squeaks of her charge woke her. Gently lifting it from its nest, she held it softly against her chest until it quieted down. It was only a matter of lightly warming the food over the stove to prepare breakfast for it. Might do to come up with a name other than "the owl" or "it". Saffron might be a good fit given the owl's predilection for eating through her saffron supplies if left too near them. Little Saffy eating her namesake.

"Saffy? You like that name? Saffy?"

The owl tilted her head, looking curiously at Vellana.

"You'll get it." She laughed a bit, "I just hope you're not a boy, don't want to confuse you!"

Saffy twittered a bit. In spite of her little bandage, and everything else that had happened, the bird nearly always seemed in good spirits. Vellana almost found herself envious of her ability to maintain a happy disposition. "Want to eat some more meat? Hm?"

She pushed the dish toward the owlet, who rather contentedly got back to work on it.

It was funny, almost, she hadn't known Saffy existed just a few weeks ago. But now, she didn't want to imagine her little house without her.