It came up the cliff face the way a tide comes up a beach. Slowly at first, and then all at once.
The heat arrived first. It rolled over the lip of the ledge ahead of everything else, and the sweat on my face dried before it could run. The stone under my boots started to tick like a pot left on a stove.
Then came the light. The orange glow below us turned yellow, then white at the centre, and I had to squint against it.
Then the head.
One claw hooked over the edge, then another, and the rock under those claws went soft and ran like candle wax. The head that came up after them was longer than Light's wyvern had been from nose to tail.
It was the same colour as the young ones. Old coals. But on this one, the lines between the scales weren't cracks. They were rivers. Orange light moved thickly inside them, like something being pumped through a body.
Its eyes opened. Both of them.
'…Well. At least it's properly awake this time. Very considerate.'
