Extracts

Abandoned story section/ practice with scene setting

Fight fire with fire

The trees swayed gently in the breeze that wound its way through the forest like a serpent. The animals within its depths wandered around almost aimlessly, with only one reason why. Stay away.
An aura of nervousness and tension hung over the forest, as the girl stood beneath a tall fir tree. The hazelnut brown mass of hair on her head hung down to her shoulders like a waterfall,and her eyes like pools of irish green  
glinted with a meaning that was hard to read.

Lyra had many enemies. Most were kept to the ground, without a companion such as hers. they were limited to horses, the "brave" fools thinking they could withstand the fire she rained down upon them. Some of her enemies were her own kind. Humans. She had no love for them, no respect. At the age of nine, her entire village was destroyed by raiders. so why would she care for them? Lyra was lucky. Fate had something planned for her: a legend to forge. She survived thanks to its mercy. But ever the stubborn girl, she often refused to credit the gods and their deities, instead giving it to the charred, terrifying creature that was currently lurking like a giant bat in the sturdy branches above her. His glowing amber eyes never leaving her small form, as guttural growls vibrated in his throat. His wings were clinging to the tree trunk, claws gouging at the bark.Lyra glanced up at him, locking her own eyes with the dragon ones above. Eyes like molten gold, but speckled with red flecks like drops of fresh blood. It was almost as if his eyes could pierce your soul, and tear it out of your body to join the other pitiful ones he snatched. Lyra had named him Didomhnaich. Reaper, in her language which was primarily Scottish gaelic. She spoke english, but could never abandon her mother tongue fully.

Dragging her eyes away from the hellish ones above, Lyra listened to the world around her. The soft breath of the dragon, the chirping of undisturbed birds, the rustle of trees and grass and the patter of the quickly approaching rain. And yet.... none of it could ever drown out the sound of the vast flames claiming her home, the strangled screams as all she had known was stolen from her...

A large force pushed her from behind, wakening her from her living nightmare. Although he was vicious, the rider of storms, the breather of death, he was gentle and caring for her. He towered above her, and he could crush her under his feet.
But he did not.
Lyra ran her hand along the rough muzzle of her best friend, feeling the grooves and ridges of his coal black scales. He made a soft purring sound, calming down now that he knew she was fine. 

"i know theres no point in thinking about it so much, but... its hard to forget." Lyra muttered more to herself than the dragon. One of her mentors she had learnt from had told her "theres no point looking back, your not headed that way." And while she tried to heed that advice, she couldnt help but overthink the past.
"nevermind then." she smiled as Reaper clambered down the rest of the tree trunk, landing behind her and curling his neck around so his face rested just below her chest.