The first trees close around Liz Thrush and the dragon, breaking the view of the village road. No riders appear between the trunks, and the grass muffles their passage.
Behind them, the bishop and his mounted party remain above the ravine, searching the cave and road. The villagers have stayed with them, watching the officers’ efforts.
the dragon
We have a little time. The horses cannot follow quietly through this ground, and the bishop will not risk scattering his men blindly.
The dragon lowers herself beneath the branches, folding her wings close. Her voice remains quiet, though her eyes keep returning to the slope behind them.
the dragon
His authority matters because people obey the robe before they examine the facts. If he names me a danger, the village will repeat it until it becomes law.
the dragon
My freedom matters because a cage would make his accusation permanent. He could question me, move me, and decide what answers the Church is allowed to hear.
The forest rises ahead in darker layers, offering cover and silence. For now, the dragon waits beneath the trees beside Liz Thrush, leaving the next move open.
Hear the dragon's account of the bishop's accusation