It seemed like a normal morning for the young blue dragonling within the confines of the shelter he'd fashioned from various fallen twigs, leaves, and branches, which helped keep him warm enough through the cold winter night. A thin layer of snow lay across the ground and blanketed the trees and the small makeshift home, having stopped falling a few hours earlier; not that the dragon would've been able to tell.

As dawn begin to break, red light streamed out from the horizon, illuminating the snow in a soft red glow and disturbing the dragon from his sleep, which happened to be facing out in the direction that the sun was rising, something he'd intended, though now he found himself not so willing to get up.

Growling lightly and cracking his emerald, reptilian eyes open, he yawned widely, revealing a row of short but sharp ivory teeth lining the top and bottom of his mouth. Trudging out slowly into the snow, his body radiating a small amount of visible static electricity for a few moments as he forced himself to wake up fully, he sniffed about the snowy ground, shaking a bit of snow off the end of his beak-like snout once when it got too close to the ground, glancing around carefully to find any hint of anything nearby, forest animals or otherwise.

Snorting once, he began walking off to the side, leaving the slowly rising sun at his right, the rays glinting off his dark blue scales and leathery, yellow-tinged wings, spread almost fully in preparation for any circumstance possibly arising where he might need them. Barely catching a squirrel in his field of view, which was trying to forage through the snow for any sign of food with the break of winter arriving and didn't seem to notice him, he approached it cautiously until he was confident that he'd be able to get it, something that didn't take long.

Opening his mouth wide, he let out a small bolt of electricity, which hit the squirrel, causing it to jump and shiver slightly, stunned from the sudden charge of lightning through its body. Quickly taking wing, the young dragon flew as fast as he could toward its prey, catching its tail within his mouth just as it recovered from the stunning bolt and began to run away. Taking the caught tail in one of his clawed hands, helped by the fact that his front legs were reverse-jointed, he reached out his neck and clamped down on the creature's neck, quickly ending its struggle for the sake of the dragon's breakfast.

Quite content with his morning meal and now fully awake and ready for the day, he wandered off to the nearby falls, the rushing water refusing to be halted even in this cold season, leaving the twig- and snow-covered ground in favor of more rocky terrain by the lake at the base of the falls, which was half frozen over away from where the water continued to crash down on it. Unconcerned by the fact that it appeared someone had been here recently from the footprints he saw in the snow a short ways away, footprints that both came and left, meaning whoever it was was probably well since gone, he brushed aside some of the snow beneath him, laying down on the hard ground and enjoying the sound of the falls, the light of the sun bathing them in the reddish orange glow of rising dawn, thinking of what he'd do to pass this new day. Perhaps pay another visit to Lomedor in search of a job, or maybe just spend the day in this form exploring.

A large red dragon flew through the skies, the snow made it hard to fly and the constant pounding of the snow made seeing difficult. Murtagh snorted snow from his nose, a large blast of fire lit up the skies. Murtagh smelt the scent of one of his kind, Murtagh dived down to the ground. His huge claws dug into the ground. Murtagh had huge spike running down his back, his wings were massive and his muscles were stronger. He was an excellent fighter. Murtagh folded in his wings a followed the scent, it smelt small. Probably a youngling Murtagh thought. Murtagh knew these parts of the forest like the back of his hand, he knew every fault and every shortcut.

Murtagh wondered the forest for several minutes until he saw a small dragon. Murtagh stopped and looked at the small dragon. “What is a youngling like you doing by yourself here?” Murtagh asked. Murtagh walked closer to the youngling, he sat down and studied the dragon. Murtagh knew how his kind acted, he was always stubborn to younglings because they always fooled around, but everyone was a youngling once and they played with each other.

Murtagh stood tall, he had broad shoulders and his muscles showed. He could easily take down someone twice his size, but murtagh had no intention to do that. Murtagh felt snow softly hit his back, he smiled. Murtagh liked winter, but it always made it harder to hunt. Since most of the creatures always sleep during the day and bearly came out at night.

Upon seeing and hearing this new dragon land in the forest nearby, powerful wingbeats blowing away the snow and a large weight crashing down onto the ground, Cody got up quickly on all fours, backing up. Another dragon...he'd never known or met any dragons but his father, and didn't know whether he should make a general impression of them from that evil creature that caused his childhood to be so difficult and lonely, forcing the child in a sense to take his own mother from himself.

“What is a youngling like you doing by yourself here?” the creature asked after it walked out of the forest and looked down to the young half-dragon in his natural dragon form. If nothing else, the creature was, while large and intimidating, not so much so as his old father. Clearly not concerned about the young creature, the dragon sat nearby, studying the young dragon whose eyes would display a piercing quality, and more intelligence than one might expect from a creature his age, regardless of species.

"I'm allowed to be by myself if I wish to be, that's how I always have been for two years," he screeched somewhat defiantly in the only language truly suitable for a dragon of his size, their natural draconic language. It wasn't until he was older and larger that he'd be able to speak other languages in this form, something that he patiently awaited so that he'd be less worried about others seeing him in this form.

"If you need to know, though, I'm just resting for now and planning out the rest of the day in terms of what I'll do," he said, in reply to the question that the dragon had asked of him earlier. Slightly nervous, static energy could be seen crackling around him lightly, a natural trait for a lightning dragon such as himself.

Hearing the youngling speaking in their native tounge, Murtagh knew that younglings couldn't speak other languages until they were older. Murtagh hadn't met many younglings in his time as a Adult. Murtagh saw static crackle around the youngling, he looked nervious. Murtagh was excatly the same when around large dragons, but everything around him started to burn. Murtagh didn't know excatly what caused it, but it must have been the fire burning inside of him and rushing down through his claws.

"I was just like you when I was your age. I thought I could look after myself until I got into a fight with a Lupine four times my size. I could take you hunting young one" Murtagh replied in their native tounge, Draconic. Murtagh spoke many languages, it often helped him when he argued with beings that only spoke their native tounge. Murtagh yawned, a small ball of flame hit the ground. Murtagh stretched his wings, the tree branches move out of the way as Murtagh pushed them out.

"May I ask how old you are. A dragon of your size must find it easy to hide from the beasts that roam at night" Murtagh said in Draconic. Murtagh flicked his spikes out on his wings, the skin felt like velvet and was easily ripped by claws. He hit a tree with his wing, a lump of snow hit murtagh in the face. Murtagh shook his head, he hated living in the forest, it had it's a advantages and its disadvantages. Murtagh's ears pricked up, they were being listened to. "Make your answer quick. Someone is close, probably a dragonslayer. A youngling like you doesn't want to end up on someones plate or being used at medicines" Murtagh said.

A dragon like Murtagh would contain alot of valuble items. He would be the main target but the hardest to take down, but a dragon like this one infront of him was worth less and easier to kill. Murtagh knew, he had travlled to several cities were roamed in his human form, a herbalist had talked to him about it, and had offered him money for any information leading to a dragon.

The young dragon raised a brow slightly, insofar as he actually could in this form, at the dragon's offer to take him hunting, feeling a little suspicious of it. Hunt for what? Him, perhaps? Or humans or something of the like? That's certainly what his father would have done.

No, enough thoughts about his father. That was just one dragon out of undoubtedly many; he couldn't judge others by such low standards as he'd set toward that evil creature, who'd scarred his hands quite effectively in his human form, only very barely visible in his current form.

"I'm eleven," he said in response to the dragon before him's question, knowing full well that that wasn't anywhere near so old in dragon standards as by human standards, but then humans tended to rarely live even a century; dragons had a few to survive through without too much difficulty.

Before the dragon even mentioned it, however, Cody glanced over in one direction of the forest, catching a scent, very light but still there, over in that direction, wondering why he hadn't before. Someone was there, maybe they'd even followed him, but who they were and whether or not they were a threat remained for him to see. A dragonslayer, the dragon said...that was a definite possibility, but there was only one way to really find out, and that was to catch sight of them.

Opening his small, beak-like maw wide, he let out a mild bolt of electricity to streak off in that direction, a trio of thin, light blue zigzags lighting their way above the snow and travelling in a generally straight path toward where the young dragon believed the hidden listener to be. While the bolt wasn't enough to do any actual damage for a dragon of his age, it would certainly get their attention, and be loosely attracted to metal on them if it came close enough to the bolt for a possible quick, mild stun. Sure, he was being reckless by drawing them out, but he was a kid, intelligent or not, and often let his curiosity and confidence in his intelligence get the better of him when he really shouldn't have.

Murtagh watched the youngling send out a bolt directed at the shadow in the distance. Murtagh shook his head, the youngling didn't know anything about stealth or keeping your position hidden. Why does this always happen Murtagh thought. Murtagh ready himself, a ball of fire grew in the bottom of his throat. Murtagh felt the presense of this person move, they obviously didn't know the art of stealth. They hadn't covered their sent and the skills of the hunter seemed to lack certain elements.

Suddenly, a hooded figure jumped from a tree towards Murtagh. Murtagh pierced the man with his tail and threw him to the ground. His massive right hand pinned the man to the ground. Murtagh released a bloodcurdling roar which frightened the man that he soiled himself. Murtagh threw the man at a jaggered cliff, the man hit it and fell to the ground. He hit the ground face down, the ice around him turned red from the blood. Suddenly, a arrow hit his scales. Murtagh let out a dark and deep bloodcurdling roar that would be heard for miles. "Go. Fly to the skies above, I will follow you" Murtagh said in Draconic. Another arrow hit his scales, but this time higher. "Now!" Murtagh yelled.

Murtagh swung his tail at the ground. A wave of snow was sent in the direction of the dragonslayer. It was followed by a fireball from Murtagh. The fire was so hot that it would melt through anything. The fireball hit someone, he knew because someone screamed in pain. They would die a painfull and slow death. He wasn't happy though, he knew there would be more, Dragonslayers worked in packs. To confirm a kill, but they picked with the wrong dragon to fight.

Even the young half-dragon Cody would admit at this point that he was being foolhardy and overly reckless, but it didn't matter. There were dragonslayers about, a group of beings that he harbored a particular dislike for, good-natured or not. If they were going to hunt dragons without regard for the lives they were taking or whether or not the dragon they were hunting was evil, which as far as he knew they did, then he'd oppose them however and wherever he could.

Even if opposition from him really wasn't saying much, him being such a small dragon and having no real fighting skills in either of his two forms, much less actual combat spells or abilities.

Growling at seemingly nothing in particular, he bit himself lightly on the foreleg, anything he could do to get his mind off the fact that he was, indeed, weak. Of all the things his evil father had taught him, one would've thought that how to fight, or at least how to kill, something the elder dragon was good at, would've been one of them, but unfortunately neither was, the lessons perhaps having been saved for when the youth was older and stronger, but cut short upon the dragonslayers' arrival.

This other dragon, however, certainly did know how to fight, skewering the first attacker with his large tail and tossing him against the cliffside, killing the man quickly and effectively after Cody had drawn him out with the small discharge of lightning breath.

Then a thought came to his quick, quite packed mind. Fire. That was what the other dragon was quite readily spewing out from his significantly larger maw. That mixed with the snow continuing to fall made water, which anyone could tell you conducted electricity quite well.

"I'm not leaving, I'm going to help!" the young dragon screeched out in one of his native tongues, vaguely noticing someone else nearby, someone that didn't seem to be with the group of three dragonslayers. Or, more accurately, two, since one was now dead, smashed almost beyond all recognition and lying at the bottom of the nearby cliffside half on the frozen part of the lake beneath, have submerged in it, some rock fragments surrounding it. It was a direction that young Cody wouldn't be looking anytime soon if he could help it.

Now the other two dragonslayers had revealed themselves, a swordsman covered in bright steel armor and a mage of some sort, wearing a rune-adorned cloak and holding high a strange-looking red staff. The mage seemed to turn his attention to the large red dragon, drawing together the snow nearby into sharp shards of ice spaced out so that they wouldn't all be taken by one burst of the fiery breath, but the swordsman came at him, smirking evilly, Cody backing off slowly.

"Come on, it's not gonna hurt, just one quick swipe," the man said in almost a comforting tone, swinging his longsword to the side to accentuate and display the final word of his statement. Little fear was shone in the dark blue dragon, however, apart from the electric discharges around his body growing in frequency, something he couldn't control even if he wanted to.

Allowing the man to get close, to the point where he rose his sword to deliver one, finishing blow to the dragon, Cody let loose the electricity that stored itself inside him once more from his open, tooth-ridged beak, a bolt shot off at his pursuer, four small zigzagging streaks of electricity this time instead of the earlier three, a small boost garnered from the increase in electricity now surging throughout his body. Hoping that the armor wasn't well-insulated, he got this particular wish, the bolt hitting the center of the chest-plate dead-on as if drawn to that particular spot, forcing upon him a mild seizure that caused him to drop his sword with a loud clatter to the solid stone ground that Cody had cleared out to lay on earlier, the tip of the blade catching the edge of one of his wings slightly. Ignoring this, he swung his wings down as hard as he could, propelling him quickly up and forward, mouth still wide open, to clamp his small but sharp teeth down on the unprotected bottom of the forearm of the man's right arm, piercing through the cloth and skin, the sickening taste of red blood now in his mouth as he was smacked away with the other arm, landing hard on the ground but getting up quickly enough, staring defiantly at the 'slayer, whose right hand now didn't seem to be responding well to the commands he was giving it.

Murtagh shook his head, this young dragon was too eager and would probably get himself hurt if he kept getting into fights with people stronger than him. "If you get hurt, It's your fault" Murtagh replied in his native tounge. Murtagh focused on the mage, this would be his main problem. The mage had made an Ice ball to protect them from his fire ball. Murtagh fired another fire ball at the mage, but this time he would follow through. Murtagh raced towards the mage. With a flick of his tail, he flew up just before the fire ball hit the mages defense. Murtagh took the mage by suprise, the mage was slammed to the ground by his huge paws.

Murtagh roared at the mage. "I think I will have you for dinner" Murtagh said in there language. The mage tried to free himself from the strong hold of Murtagh's, It was no luck. The mage was pinned down to the ground by Murtagh's large paw, his claws were pinned into the ground. Murtagh took no hesitation, he dug his claws into the mans face. Murtagh let go after a few seconds. The man lay dead with a pool of blood around him. He couldn't sense anymore dragonslayers. Murtagh raced back to the youngling. "We must leave, More will come. And by more, I mean three times the amount of men that we just fought" Murtagh said. He hadn't noticed the human until now.

Murtagh blew a small fire ball at him which hit him in the head. The man fell to the floor and Murtagh drew his wings, he was ready to fly.