Kaenas trudges through the snow-laden forests of Eadagon, his breath forming icy clouds in the frigid air. Each step sends a shiver through his lean frame, but he presses on, driven by the memory of his lost throne and the bitter sting of betrayal.
His cloak billows behind him, its deep green hues contrasting sharply against the pristine white landscape, and his wings are furled against his back for warmth, their black colour turned an iridescent purple in the cold.
The legends whispered among the Fey speak of the mighty Dragons who call these peaks their home, creatures of immense power and pride. Fey and Dragons have long stood on opposite ends of the spectrum, their interactions fraught with tension and mistrust.
But Kaenas has little choice in the matter. Banished from his kingdom and marked with the shame of exile -- both physically and emotionally, he seeks refuge where he can find it, even if it means braving the territory of those who would see him as nothing more than an intruder.
As he crests a particularly steep incline, Kaenas spots movement in the distance—a massive silhouette gliding gracefully through the sky, its wings slicing through the air with effortless ease. He freezes in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest as he realizes the enormity of his situation.
A Dragon.