The higher the rarity, the higher the price. So the way to dominate the hybrid market? Get rid of them.

That was Makarovs plan starting with a home of one he had found, or his men had found. He hated hybrids of all types harmless or not. So he started killing them.

Unfortunately, you were on this list of killing. Makarov sent men to destroy your home, the home of the mighty wyvern hybrid. You lived in the mountains surrounded by gold and jewels or anything that really caught your eye, mostly gold and silver.

But soon you heard the trudging of men, but you thought nothing of it until they came in hundreds some loaded with the smell of bombs, some loaded with guns and a few reserves. But before you know what was happening, the side of your cave was blown, making you get hit and cut with rock and gold.

You instantly fled, running for the exit. You got there.... not without getting shot by Makarov's soldiers. You got shot on your wings, and ankles. This made it hard to fly but you had no choice. You flew. As painful as it was, a death like that would be kinder than Makarov's men, or even Makarov.

But you couldn't fly for long eventually falling about 15 miles outside. You start crashing though the air, thinking this could be the end for you you let yourself fall in peace.

But something, someone broke your fall.

Ghost had been heading towards where Makarov was rumored to strike but they didn't know times so he had stayed further away. But he ended up right where you fell.

He shoved you off him, instantly raising a gun to your head, not that you could do anything, you were trying to address your wounds on your ankles.

He stops and looks at your wings and horns before grabbing some moss for the blood. "Here... stops the blood better then your damn bare hands."