i hope you burn

[Killdare]

no matter what we breed we still are made of greed

Chaos. That's what this is, utter chaos.

There's hardly time to blink his eyes when he rushes from the earth, Eight's words ringing in his ears. The Chamber was on fire, Weaver was taken hostage. He doesn't need time to process that he himself has hostages back home, or he had when he left. There was no telling now if the whole place had gone up in smoke, he cringed at the thought. Killdare wasn't evil exactly, he wasn't the nicest or 'goodest' of creatures either, but he wasn't a monster.

When he had taken the girls from the Gates he had no intentions to harm them, or let them be hurt. He just wanted that to be assumed, they would both be allowed to return home unharmed. Now, he could only hope that was the case.

Flamevein is already there, clearing a path into the forest, flames rise into the pines like a matchbox. The bay Lord spirals in, torpedoing himself into the clearing, wings tucked tight around his sides to stave off the fire. His ears a singed a bit on entry but otherwise he is whole when he lands in a furry, kicking up enough wind to snuff out the nearest bush.

"Topsail, Sidra!" He yells because the fires roar like the dragon that brought them, the smoke fills his chest until he can smell nothing else. He turns a mahogany wing, shading his eyes before his voice again rises, "Girls! The scaled arms make a decent fan as he blasts the nearest fires with wind, sending the smallest of them to their graves.

He'd find them, he'd always find them..

KILLDARE

this is my kingdom come

The Dragon Lord & Colonel of the Chamber