This is a thing. It is one of the best things I've done. So here we go.
CHAPTER 1
It opened.
"Finally, it opened!'', thought Quetzalcoatl, "After scalding hours, countless days, maybe even atrocious months, it's open!" His wolf tail shot up, swinging back and forth. The door creaked open, its metal hinges squeaking ear-piercingly, the bottom of the huge, 7'2 door scraping some of the dry sand away. Quez dusted himself off and cautiously walked inside, grabbing his trusty pack of picklocks, pulled out a torch, plated with gold, and scraped it swiftly against the rusty floor. It sparked, flames dancing in the darkness. The door Quez took days to open shut with a loud thunk, but he didn't care. The young, tall, and very, very brave wolf tip-toed down the long hallway, the torch gleaming proudly. He was nervous. His teeth chattered softly. He took a deep breath and walked on. After inspecting the walls, all with tapestries painted on the stone walls, the drawings drips now dried, he approached another door. This one was wood, however.
"Oh, thank Azhi," Quez thought. He cracked the door open, ever so slightly, to see what was inside.
"Yep, there it is!", Quez thought to himself. The shining Dangour armor gleamed in the newly given light. Quez swung the door open, scanning the room. He tip-toed over to the Dangour armor, shield, and sword. A Dangour bow was hooked on the back, arrows ready to rip into the flesh of Quez's enemies. He took out a water bottle and a rag, and polished the black, spiked armor. He finished his job and the armor looked wondrous, at least to a poor one's eyes. Even the rich would be in awe. Quetzalcoatl lifted the headset and put it on his head, and it fit. His wolf snout came into a snarl as he looked fierce, slashing his claws at the dusty air before him. He snorted, and put the rest of the armor on, and clicked the bow, arrows, and sword into their sheaths. He grabbed the shield and held it up to his face, pretending to be in battle. Testing his and the armor's durability, he jumped high. The Dangour armor was surprisingly light, and he smiled, his teeth shining brightly. Quez grabbed his bag and set off, ready to take on anything.
Or so he thought.
CHAPTER 2
Quez walked along the cool sand, the moon gleaming. He thought it would be a normal night. He found some Sundak soldiers conversing around a fire, laughing and drinking mead. The wolf's nose could sent the untouched, most likely unwanted, different assortments of meats. He scavenged through the bag and pulled out unwanted supplies: dirty rags, ripped clothes, bad food, and dulled knives. Quez snuck past the drunken guards and into the tent where the food was. Quez stuffed and stole as much as he could: meat, veggies, water, and even some precious mead. He was about to leave when he saw the rich clothes the Sundak warriors wore under the armor He ran out, the guards' ears unable to catch the muffled sand crumpling beneath Quez's new armor. One guard, however, was completely sober, and heard the rattling of Quez's armor. He shouted the Sundak war cry and threw a spear. The spear hit Quez right in the back of his thigh, and the little wolf shouted in pain. However, he kept running, his dark brown fur starting to turn a crimson red. The black armor gleamed, blinding the sober guard, and he rubbed his eyes. By the time he had regained focus, however, Quez was gone, as well as a goodly sized portion of food, water, clothes, and weapons.
Quez knew he lost the guard's line of sight, but sprinted until he dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. He grabbed the spear, and with a single pull, it ripped out, and he cried in pain. Quez put the bloody spear in his bag. The armor slipped off just enough for it to land. He took the one rag he still had and ripped it to make it longer. Quez wrapped it around his bleeding leg, and it immediately turned red, soaked with blood. Still gasping for breath, Quez looked around, hoping to find another Ani-Folk like himself, snakes, birds, anyone who could help him. He was sad to see no one was around. Quez threw his head back and let out a bone chilling howl. It echoed across the vast desert plain, and rung in his ears. Suddenly, something responded. His ears shot up and twisted left and right, trying to figure out what and where it was. He howled again, and the thing roared back, significantly closer. Quez scanned the desert, but saw nothing. The thing roared again, and Quez slowly turned his head upwards to find a dragon, darker than death itself, flapping its wings across the horizon, the sun just starting to rise. Quez was frightened as the dragon landed only yards away. He looked up to meet the beast's gaze, and it looked down upon him. The dragon's head was feet away from Quez's nose, so close Quez could feel the dragon's breath. The beast said nothing while he put his head down, showing the spiked and scaled on its head. It continued its schedule as it scooped up the frightened, bloody wolf onto it. Quez held on tightly to the dragon's head as it raised its wings and flapped them wildly, forcing it upwards. Quez held on to the dragon for dear life as he and his possibly new friend soared along the sky. The dragon roared and Quez only prayed he didn't fall.
