27. The Needle Woods

Long before any creature could remember, tall, rough pine trees had been densely rooted in these evergreen hills, solemnly guarding the quickly flowing river traversing the mysterious land. Thorn fled low upon the dark green, needled canopy. The deeper the Misty Mountains he went, the faster and more relentlessly the stream rushed. The color of the trees became even darker and the mist grew thicker, making it blurry even for a dragon’s eyes.

The wound left by the sharp arrowhead had left him helpless. After it had ripped off one of his scales, rope detached, the deadly weapon was still buried deep in his flesh, inches away from his heart and dipped in some sort of poison. Thorn could feel the poison coursing through his body quickly, creeping along his veins. The pain was sharp, and he felt a deadly ache deep in his dragon bones. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as the anguish at losing Leila.

When he finally made his way back to the sky, Leila had already disappeared into the rushing wate