The Beast in the Woods
We have all heard the stories of the beasts from the Human-Dragon war, the war between the ground and sky, where the in between was destroyed by fire. How they stole and hoarded sacred treasures, encasing them deep in vaults of stone. Of how with glee they hunted our young, carrying them off, never to be seen again. With large silver scales and sharp talons that could cut through flesh these terrifying monsters kept me awake at night. I never thought I would see one for myself, and yet there it was, asleep nesting on the ground. It must have fallen from the tree above as its face was grotesque, red and swollen. It was smaller than I’d imagined, I wonder how old this hatchling could be. Its scales hadn’t grown in yet, it appeared so naked without them. Small. Shrivelled. Disappointing. Was it male or female? There seemed no way to tell. We hadn’t seen any alive since the final days of the war and yet here one was. The last of the beasts. The last human-beast.