It is not so cold out here - and that is enough reason to lure the dragon out in his free time. The sand under his paws is loose, making his focus largely on walking and flexing his muscles. He had… gotten fat in his haze of drinking and eating. It would take time to return his form into something more powerful, but at least he had his size on his side. And time. Slowly, Roarke was recovering from the loss of his family. Perhaps the wounds would never truly scar over, perhaps they would always ache. He can get used to the pain, rather than having to numb it.

He walked, Head down, eyes glassy and paws sore, cracked and bloody. The child was just old enough to walk, just old enough to keep a straight line, but not old enough to know how to care for himself or to keep himself fed.

Father had lain down some time ago and not risen, ,so the boy had tried to find him something to eat. Something that would leave him to stand again so that they could continue to walk. Zayn stumbled, his limbs shaking from exhaustion and malnutrition as he shambled onwards.

In the distance,, he saw a form, and paused, squinting against the bright light. The charcoal pelt and fiery mane stuck out against the horizon and for the first time, he perked up. Steps moved faster, his thin, bony form moving forward with renewed gusto.

@Roarke

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A dark shape sticks out against the golden sand. The closer it gets, the more obvious the shape should not be out here at all. Roarke’s lumbering gait picks up until he’s close enough to the cub to squint down at him. He is a skinny, waifish thing. Unfed and uncared for, that much is obvious.

"Come here," when the dragon speaks, his voice is gentle, but it is a command. The type a father would use on his child. "Let’s get you something to eat and drink, and get you home." The claim is subtle, but a claim all the same. Even if this boy’s parents were still breathing - from the state of their son, they would not be for long if Roarke found them.

Fatigue, Starvation and the lack of training in the young child led him to follow @Roarke without question. Why? Because the brute looked enough like his father that he didn't question it. Simply expecting - assuming that the lion had risen from his slumber and found them somewhere to go. It didn't register that his deceased parent didn't have the same spots that Roarke boasted across his hide.

It only mattered that the predominant colors matched - and that it made sense. He desperately wanted papa back, wanted their life back and when it was presented to him, he simply let his heart paint the picture his malnourished brain believed.

Thus, the child pressed himself up against the beasts limb, leaning heavily, though his weight was slight, ribs easily noticeable. Exhaustion drew the boy under and he flopped himself unceremoniously onto Roarke's massive foot - where he often slept on his own fathers toes, sliding into a sleep of the nearly dead.

//exit via sleep and stuff//

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Integer lobortis purus faucibus nisi iaculis fermentum. Integer sodales sodales gravida. Mauris ut nunc ac dolor sollicitudin ultricies. Vestibulum nibh libero, imperdiet quis orci ac, porttitor volutpat lectus. Proin varius aliquam convallis. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Integer blandit malesuada purus sed sagittis. Proin nulla sapien, venenatis vitae lacinia sed, porta nec erat.

code by corvus