After maybe half an hour of walking, the tribal men in animal skins holding my arms stop. I peer around, seeing only more trees. But I can smell something—people, I realize. I look back to see that the rest of the men are slowly dragging Astralux along by ropes tied to her front legs. The beautiful dragon is still fast asleep from whatever strange paste they had spread on her and tipped their arrows with. I can feel the slight pain through our shared bonds of her wounds, but it isn’t enough to wake her.
Leading this tribal group is a tall and sturdy man who wears an elaborate bone and beaded necklace around his neck. He stands nearby, watching as the men continue to pull Astralux close. Then he gives a whistle that sounds like an owl hooting. I hear a similar owl’s hoot from ahead. It must be some sort of signal.
(more…)