The world was full of things that ‘should not be’, that pinged the senses as inherently wrong, inherently divine. Or less divine, and more demonic, depending on your interpretation of the Song of Creation. Falin looked up at the winter dragon, squinting as the sun refracted through translucent ice.
It was ignoring her, as dragons were wont to do, focusing on consuming the new fallen snow. It had already made some headway in the snow banks, giant gouges ran the length of the two larger drifts from where the beast had rolled.
With a crackling sigh it stretched out again, flattening against the side of the hill then carefully rolling up and over. The new snow compacted and stuck to the side of the dragon in a way that sent shivers down her back. When it rose the new material was already being incorporated, changing from shadowy translucence to a more transparent hue.
Over the course of a winter the dragons could easily grow six to fourteen inches in diameter. In the northern lands they measured growth in yards.
But this wasn’t the northern ice flows, this was lower kingdoms that saw snow once a decade. Which was why she’d been assigned to keep an eye on the town’s newest resident. From what she’d heard they were mostly harmless, save for the damage they did collecting the snow. They ate nothing, attacked nothing, just rambled from bank to bank in a monotonous litany of stop-drop-roll.
There had to be a purpose behind the unusual snowfall, a reason why the lower kingdoms had been invaded by these seemingly harmless giants… and Falin was going to find out what.
Falin: Latin, Strong Leader