Caspian didn't know how he got here, but he was here.
Downstairs, standing squarely on the bottom step of the grand front porch, Drax's green eyes narrowed into slits. The teenage dragon crossed his arms over his chest, blocking the pathway to the heavy doors. He stared down at the intruder who had just breached their perimeter.
Caspian looked absolutely nothing like the terrifying, untouchable Abyssal King who had once commanded the crushing depths of the ocean.
Caspian looked completely wrecked. His human legs that were currently covered in dirt, scratches, and dried blood. He had clearly walked for miles through the dense, unforgiving forest entirely barefoot, his mortal soles torn to shreds by the jagged rocks and brambles.
He was wearing nothing but a crude, hastily fashioned loincloth. Strapped securely to his broad, heaving chest was the basket holding Zale, fiercely protected from the harsh surface elements.
