The sun had barely risen, casting a golden glow through the forest as Hookfang sprinted through, his breaths sharp and labored. His boots pounded against the damp earth, kicking up dirt and leaves, but he paid no mind to the sting in his legs or the ache in his lungs. His thoughts were elsewhere—back to last night.
The attack had come suddenly. It had been chaos, a test of everything he had trained for. And in the midst of it all, he had fired his first shot—a clean, calculated strike that sent one of the beasts plummeting into the darkness. His first dragon. His first kill.
But when the battle ended, he hadn’t been able to find the body. It had vanished into the night trees beyond the village. He needed proof. He needed to see it with his own eyes—to stand over the carcass and know, without a doubt, that he had done what he was meant to do.
A twig snapped beneath his foot, yanking him from his thoughts just as his boot caught on something hidden beneath the leaves. He barely had time to curse before he was falling—plummeting forward as the ground disappeared beneath him.
Dirt and loose rocks sliding under his hands as he tumbled down the steep slope. His body twisted and turned, momentum dragging him downward until—CRACK—he landed hard at the bottom of a narrow canyon, his back slamming into the earth.
For a moment, all he could do was lie there, gasping. His head spun, his vision blurred, but the sharp pulse of pain in his ankle brought him back to reality. With a groan, he tried to move—only to feel the sharp pull of resistance.
His foot was trapped.
— “Shit—”
he hissed, gritting his teeth as he twisted to look. A pair of jagged rocks had closed around his ankle, pinning it in place.
Hookfang let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wild red hair. Just great. Now how the hell was he supposed to find the—
His breath caught.
Slowly, cautiously, he looked up.
Just a few feet away, a dragon stood before him.