The shattered smoke-dragon unravels into thin black ribbons above the dunes, and the red crescent’s pull goes slack. Huarti stands with one hand sunk into the darkened sand, while Annika Mal slows beside him, her gaze turning toward the distant nursery silhouette.
Annika Mal
I feel it still. A steady pulse, under the ground. The hatchlings are answering what happened out there.
The air is quieter now, stripped of the harsh pressure of corruption. The clean ring around Huarti’s hand remains etched in the sand like a seal, while the broken streamer-clouds drift lower toward the camp.
Huarti
The warding has loosened. The brood can feel it.
The Nomad Envoy keeps a respectful distance, black glass tablet lowered at her side. The Lead Scout lingers near the rock edge, half-ready to flee, but the danger that drove him there is gone.
Nomad Envoy
Then your hold reaches farther than steel or fear. The child things in the nest know when the air changes.
Annika Mal glances from Huarti to the nursery, her posture easing as the wind settles. The walk back begins at an unhurried pace, all sharpness gone from the moment.
Annika Mal
When we return, let them settle first. Then tell me what you felt when the pulse changed.
“I take red dragon form by speaking in dragon "Assul Ahul" translatted, "be true ((red)) dragon" and fly to the nursey with haste”
SUCCESS (Good Agility, rolled -2)