When one of his drakes went limp in the water, blood pouring out of its mouth and choking it, Baoht Zuqqa Roh roared. This was not communication; it was fury. Each of those drakes had taken a decade to train. He had named them after the progenitors of his brood. They were living relics, sacred, and the blessing of Lord Ifrit burned in their eyes. When Baoht Zuqqa Roh shouted again, the sand drakes recoiled, putting distance between themselves and the man. No more of them would be sacrificed on this hunt. Shan'Gai Chah did not deserve it.
"Your bite is small, but stings, child of man!" Baoht Zuqqa Roh three down his bow and spread his claws, showed his teeth, his great tail swinging behind him. He waited for the metal bolt that his prey was using as a spear, but to the Amal'jaa was still just an arrow. He would catch it and claw the man to shreds.
"Your bite is small, but stings, child of man!" Baoht Zuqqa Roh three down his bow and spread his claws, showed his teeth, his great tail swinging behind him. He waited for the metal bolt that his prey was using as a spear, but to the Amal'jaa was still just an arrow. He would catch it and claw the man to shreds.
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