In the vast temporary shelter, dragons awakening from their mental slumber gathered together, dragging their exhausted, scarred bodies. The giant sun gradually climbed to its highest point in the sky. Even in this frigid polar region, the warmth brought by sunlight somewhat dispelled the chill lingering amid the ruins of war—though the cold wind still blew endlessly across the land, Melita felt a measure of reassurance and warmth within the shelter.
She was not sure whether that feeling came from the damaged yet still-standing high walls around her, or from the surviving kin within her line of sight.
Some of the Dragon Flock gathered in the shelter remained in their dragon forms, receiving limited treatment or "repairs" in that state. Others stayed in Human Form to conserve strength and supplies, while making room for everyone else—these ruins were not large and offered very limited shelter. If every dragon assumed their true form here, there would certainly not be enough room for them all.
Beneath a half-molten Metal Giant Tower at the center of the shelter, Melita spotted the Red Dragon Carador. She stood at an elevated spot in Human Form, her fiery red hair and beard especially conspicuous amid the crowd. Several clansfolk bustled nearby; some tended to the wounded, while others seemed to be trying to repair machines dug out of the ruins.
"Melita!" Carador spotted the approaching blue dragon from afar and cried out in delighted surprise. "You're alive!"
"You're alive too," Melita said with a smile as she looked at her senior from the council—Carador was a trustworthy old Red Dragon, and Melita had often partnered with her on missions since several millennia ago. "Where's Takdam?"
"Dead. We found his body," Carador said, her tone carrying a trace of sorrow, though there was far more numbness beneath