Iron Dragon

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A flutter of movement caught Jason’s attention and he stared into the distance, searching for the gradient of heat that his dragon sight would show, but came across nothing. The longer he stared, the more certain he was that he had seen something.

It was difficult to make anything out against the steadily circling wind. It tossed snow and ice into the air, swirling it around. Gripping his bow, Jason crouched low, gliding along the snow. His bearskin jacket hung open, letting some of the snow in, the bite of the wind not bothering him as it once had.

His stomach rumbled but he ignored it, trying to focus. It did no good to worry about food until he completed this hunt. If he failed, it would result in more than him going hungry.

Clear your mind of everything but the target.

Twisting away, he tracked along the snow, the way his father had always taught, but the shifting wind made it difficult to follow any footprints. He had to rely upon his ability to find movement and the gradations of heat, though those weren’t nearly as common as they once had been.

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