Lord-Governor Kang (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
governorkang) wrote2015-01-31 08:32 pm
governorkang) wrote2015-01-31 08:32 pm
Second memory for MoM
[The chamber Kang is currently in is very large, and lit only by a handful of candles. It's all the light the many young draconians need to see, though - they have much better low-light vision than humans. There are no doors, and the walls are just tall enough that climbing is required to get out; everything, including the ceiling, is made of rock as if the location of the chamber is underground. There are scorch marks and charred bone fragments everywhere, and only piles of hay for sleeping.
All of the draconians in this chamber are entirely unclothed with bright bronze scales, horns that are barely more than nubs, and injuries that range from minor to severe. There are, strangely, no corpses, though at least one of the younglings looks as if it is on the verge of death, emaciated and its wings completely shredded.
Kang is sitting on the little patch of hay he has claimed as his, with his back to the rocky wall. He's nursing a cut on his leg and watching all the others, hissing at any who accidentally get too close to him. They all back off quickly, knowing better by this point than to start a fight with one of the largest bozaks in the group.
Everyone stops at the sound of footsteps and laughing voices echoing in the distance with their heads upraised. Their nostrils twitch at the smell of fresh meat, as if they haven't eaten in more than a day, and almost every single draconian starts sizing up those around them. Only the most severely injured don't react, having given up any hope.
There is never enough food for everyone.]
All of the draconians in this chamber are entirely unclothed with bright bronze scales, horns that are barely more than nubs, and injuries that range from minor to severe. There are, strangely, no corpses, though at least one of the younglings looks as if it is on the verge of death, emaciated and its wings completely shredded.
Kang is sitting on the little patch of hay he has claimed as his, with his back to the rocky wall. He's nursing a cut on his leg and watching all the others, hissing at any who accidentally get too close to him. They all back off quickly, knowing better by this point than to start a fight with one of the largest bozaks in the group.
Everyone stops at the sound of footsteps and laughing voices echoing in the distance with their heads upraised. Their nostrils twitch at the smell of fresh meat, as if they haven't eaten in more than a day, and almost every single draconian starts sizing up those around them. Only the most severely injured don't react, having given up any hope.
There is never enough food for everyone.]