The small council in kings landing was driving Aegon half-mad. After blood and cheese, as well as loosing one of their kingsguard, Cole’s campaign, it all just hit a boiling point. Making his way to the dragon pit, not bothering alert any of his staff and guard. He climbed his dragon, and up the two went, glinting against the suns reflection, the two soared above the city, eventually landing down in the large grass lands of the kings wood. His late lord father held his name-days here over the years, though he had few memories of it.

Descending down into the field, his grace tied the reigns of Sunfyre’s saddle to the handles, wrapping them tightly around them.

“Stay Sunfyre.”

Aegon hops down from the saddle after commanding his mount, wading through the thick grassy fields with an air of melancholy surrounding him.

The thick clouds overtook the sky and sun, greying the horizon as his gaze loomed over the forest and woodland in the distance, parting to the open lake that fed from the river wendwater.