The mother was not surprised when something exploded two feet away from her, overwhelming her vision with the red and orange of fire, and she was thrown into an out-of-control spiral.

Panicked, she flopped her wings mid-air, to no avail (except to cause her to become quite dizzy) and continued to fall towards the harsh, rocky ground, unforgiving and in stark contrast to the blue sky, shaded grey and red. More wing flopping eventually allowed her to regain her balance, and crash-land slightly painfully.

There were innumerable craters defacing the ground scattered around her, all a terrible witness to the death and destruction occurring. Each was filled with blood, death, decay: It was too much to bear thinking about. But she had to, for the sake of her egg, because her egg could be in any one of these.

And yet… it could be anywhere, even crushed under a dead dragon. But, in her heart, the life of the egg pulsed, tied to her. It had to be alive.

She tired and landed again, but once she had regained her strength she spread her wings and took off, flying low, paying minute attention to the ground.

As she headed closer and closer to the battle, the number of stray arrows and explosives increased. She wondered at the arrows, though: If the humans had explosives, then what was the point of the arrows?

Her thoughts were cut short when a battery of weaponry blasted towards her. She was launched into a series of acrobatics which perhaps were not the most healthy choice for a dragon of her condition, but she didn’t care.

She landed once again and immediately dove to the left to avoid… it flew past her too fast to tell. She didn’t have time to duck again. An arrow pierced her wing, cutting through the delicate membrane and shattering the thin, hollow bone. Pain coursed throughout her wing and she was in agony. She couldn’t support herself longer if the arrow remained in her wing, and so she gripped the arrow with her teeth. A fresh wave of pain attacked her, but she pushed through it and slowly, painstakingly, pulled it out. The pain subsided slightly, enough for her to fly again, only for the sake of her egg.

An arrow flew by, almost hitting her, but sunk into the chest of another dragon. She could see his gasp of pain, and she knew that an arrow alone wasn’t enough to kill a dragon. Then the arrow exploded. Instantly the dragon was gone, vaporized.

She thought of the arrow which had hit her; if she hadn’t removed it, she would be dead. Even as she looked back, the arrow detonated, creating another crater, the symbol of death.

A shard of the arrow caught her wing, creating a thin slice over the skin. It flew past and dove into the ground, quivering. The heat of the shard seemed to engulf her wing, and she landed again, not succumbing to death only for her egg: it had to live, she had to find it.

She fell into a monotonous state, almost robotic, where she could only feel pain, only bear it. Her body continued moving, her eyes saw but she didn’t see.

She stumbled and fell into a particularly deep crater, filled with blood. It shocked her back into consciousness. She picked herself up, and painstakingly stood. She look around her, took in her bearings. She analyzed the crater she was in, and realized that she couldn’t get out until her wing felt well enough to fly.

Then, in the very center of the crater, she saw her egg. Triumph and glory showered over her, and she reached for it, not noticing the arrow which slid into the water inches away from her egg with barely a ripple. Then, the world exploded.