Cinava - Chapter Three by varekaifleur, literature
Literature
Cinava - Chapter Three
After Cinvava had consumed most of Laerdya's corpse, Draxylos and I went to dispose of it. I wrapped the remains in a sheet Mericreth had kindly brought in preparation and tied it, making sure that nothing would spill out and create a mess as I carried it. By the time Cinava had been done eating, the sun had just begun to rise, allowing us enough light to travel through the dense forest. We left the dragon to Mericreth, whom he took to extremely well. He even had curled up in her lap as if he were a house cat, sleeping peacefully when we left.
Draxylos and I walked to a part of the Western River that ran through the forest. The riverbank w
I was picking dirt from under my nails with my knife when Draxylos appeared from within the densely packed trees, his silver eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead and he was breathing heavily. He looked to me first, then took in the rest of what he saw; Mericreth reading from a thick, leather-bound book and Laerdya sleeping on the ground a few feet from him.
"Long walk?" I asked, referring to the sweat on his brow. I slid my knife back into place as I stood up from the rock, hearing the joints in my knee crack as I did so.
Draxylos nodded, wiping his face with his sleeve.
Laerdya sleepily opened he
I swiftly emerged from the forest, green leaves clinging to my moss-green, velveteen cloak. The setting sun delivered its rays through the land and made my dark blonde hair shine and gleam like honey as strands blew in the slight breeze. Hastily I tucked a stray piece behind an obscenely pointed ear, picked a leaf off my collar, and adjusted my sword, which was patiently waiting for blood at my hips. I was on a mission, and it was my first assignment in a very long time, and I was ready.
At 600 years old, I had seen plenty. I was alive when my town of Bosdertien was being established and when the original family was in control
The first night in Key West was the first night I was really going to party for the first time in my life. I'd just turned 21 and had been saving up all my money to go to Key West to have my first real drink. Probably more than just one.
Bright neon colors were the only source of light in the bustling, booming nightclub. I had brought my closest friend along with me, but as soon as we sauntered into the crowded club she wandered off, leaving me at the bar all alone. She was usually more social than I was, and I guessed that she was flirting up a storm with all of the tan, toned Florida guys, reeking of cologne and hair gel. I pushed past