Osthato Chetowa saw the likes of two humans make there way up the mountain. Although Striker was but a ping of annoyance, he brought the struggling baby dragon up near his mouth and punched holes in his wings by barely biting into them. Because Striker was young, the membranes weren’t fully developed and so this was a very easy task. All the more so, because they were easily reparable with the help of time. He sat him down on the rocky ground, I wouldn’t try running if I were you. The holes in your wings wont allow you to glide very well. The second you step foot of this peak, it’s a straight drop from here on down.
He passed over the little one and faced his assailant. With the quick trick and whip of his tail the sword was out of Berethin’s hand, and he was hanging upside down. Be still, he said blowing a ring of smoke into the struggling human’s face. He turned to face the new acquaintance, I’m neither lord nor ruler of these dragons, but I am of these mountains. Speak quick lest you meet the fate of this human, he hung Berethin over the ledge of the mountain waiting for his response…