Pevvele had flown for quite a while, and noted the changing of terrain. Her altitude had shifted to quite the height, something she had never really liked. Up here, breathing was near impossible, and she finally had to come down. The peaks of mountains reached towards her ominously, and she weaved through the gaps. Cold, cold, more cold...Ugh!
She landed with a soft thump, "K—I officially hate whatever this stuff is..." Pevvele shook her paws, snorting as the icy substance clung to her smooth pinkish-white scales, glaring through the blindingly bright surface. A gust of wind stung her eyes and she scrambled back with a yelp. Her claws couldn't get a grip, causing her to slide down the slope. Pevvele's heart seized with panic at her predicament! Her hind end hung off the small platform and she slid at an alarming rate! "HELP! SOMEONE! PLEASE!" She called out, her wails only answered by silence.

. . .

Fallen Angel shot up, upon hearing distant wailing, she quickly left her abode, her heart heavy with the harrowing thoughts of what she would find. Many who entered the Range Of Memories never made it out alive and she often found the treacherous terrains victims frozen solid, stuck in time as their final moments ceased. What, or whoever was trapped here, she didn't have much hope for them. But—she would do whatever she could. She could tell by the voices pitch, it was female, and quite young. Spreading her feathered wings, she broke contact with the ground, and honed in on her other senses. Sight would be of no use, but her "sixth" sense would. Just like a bat used sound waves, every species, (and subspecies/similar creatures) of the Fury genus, used echolocation where visibility was poor.

. . .

She could almost see the young dragon, and quickly reached down, grabbing them. "Hey, kid! You're okay." Despite the howling wind, she could hear them clearly. "C-c-cold..." was all they could muster. "You poor, poor kid."

. . .

Picking the young dragonet up, she took off, relighting her fire upon arrival. Placing the small one on a bed of Reindeer-Moss, she added more kindling to the fire, resisting the urge to invade their privacy, and study the satchel.
Instead, she left the cave, trudging through the snow as ice began to form on her feather-tips. Her cold resistant seal was broken, and her feathers became ruffled upon the wind. She could survive this cold, cruel world a bit longer.

. . .

(A/N: Heh, see what I did there?! EH? EHh? You don't care, do you?...
ANYWAY—see any MISSPELLINGS, TYPOS, IMPROPER GRAMMAR, OR OTHER ISSUES, LET me KnOw by SpAmMING My Name In THE COMMENTS!!!)

. . .

Okay, what the hell?!..
She stood speechless; as thousands of frozen corpses and dying dragons seemingly rained from the sky, smashing against the rocky cliff-face as would sleet against metal. But, possibly the weirdest of all was the fact that: above them, she could clearly see a large beast, black in coloration, as it soared past before diving down the ranges corner.

. . .

It was pointless now, whatever that thing was, it wasn't good news. But then again, Fallen Angel had been trapped in the range for several months, alone, and yet had flourished. Her species was accustomed to colder temperatures, but not as much as a Lightning or Storm Fury. Those species were born to live in the snow, it seemed like...Finally, after going about to try and find any survivors from the Great Downing. She returned back with a heavy heart. Most were dead, and others too far gone. But, she had saved one. Sure, it wasn't really part of the Great Downing, but it was better than nothing!

I see how the poor—oh, never mind. Hell with this! I'll...Check it out... The somewhat small Feather Furies curiosity got the best of her, and upon wrapping her wing around the dragonet, she opened the satchel, taking the ancient book in her forepaws, and flipped through the pages, pupils thinning upon studying the map. Well—the small one was...A quarter of a way to the Black Deaths lair!

Fallen Angel had little to no idea why she was inclined to helping the small one, but she felt it was a way to make up for the unfortunate events that had taken place in her youth. Perhaps the loneliness and exclusion from society had softened her, even just the slightest bit? She supposed that's what happens when a dragon is exiled for loving someone who isn't of their species...

. . .

It had been almost a week since Pevvele was rescued, and she still hadn't came too. Angel was growing quite worried, and couldn't help but pace the caverns length. Upon a small cough from the young dragonets nest, Fallen Angel skidded across the stone to lower her form, therefore introducing herself.

"PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T COOK ME!" Angel blinked slowly, her gaze traveling, before following the red eyed dragons gaze to the fire, where a makeshift pot hung. "E-eat you?! Why the hell would I—" she broke off, her gaze widening in shock, before she burst into laughter. "Kid! You don't really think I'd cook and eat you?!"
The Feather Fury sat down in-front of the trembling dragonet, whose gaze narrowed with cold suspicion. "Well—why else would you have an odd circular hole, and BE LIVING ALONE?!" Fallen Angel blinked slowly, a sigh escaping her mouth. The dragonet did make a good point, she supposed. Her species wasn't meant to live alone, yes. But she had been waiting here for her older sister for years, and was yet to find her after the unfortunate incident...Along with this, she still was waiting on Matthew, as proven to the discarded saddle in the corner of the room, still covered in dust. He told her he'd come back! Now, she had made it her life goal to find her sister, and find Matthew as well, but her heart was torn between her two closest companions.

. . .

The small dragonet stood up, her limbs shaking, before collapsing once more, knocking a few nick knacks off of shelving, where they landed on her back. "Kid! Kid! Hey! Kiddo?! You alright?" Angel raced across, nudging the coughing dragon. "M-my father...He's...out there..."
Angel nodded in understanding, but still tipped her head. "Young one, you...Were the only dragon still living! I-if you had a companion—" Pevvele interrupts with a hiss, "You don't understand! Olympus is out there, I can feel it!Please! You have to let me go! Please!" Pevvele begged, staring up at the golden feathered dragon with genuine sorrow. Angel returned her expression calmly, sitting down. "Kiddo, I'll tell you what...If you're feeling better tomorrow, we'll go look for this "Olympus", alright?" Pevvele sniffled, nodding.

"O-okay...I guess." Angels yellow gaze glimmered with satisfaction, and she handed the dragonet her satchel. "Tell me about this map." She began. Pevvele's gaze widened in panic, before she quickly recovered. "I-I-uh...It's uhhh—nothing?" She stumbled over her words, searching her brain for a believable excuse. Fallen Angels gaze narrowed, and she spoke sternly. "Now, don't lie to me..." Pevvele gave in, spilling the truth in quick succession: "I'm on a mission to find my father and save Vallaire from an evil creature with mind control abilities. The Black Death...It took over Vallaire's mind, and brought him to his lair...I'm also searching for my biological father, who's probably been worried sick about me for my entire life."

"Once again, we will find your father, I promise you this. First, what's your name, again?"

"Pevvele, the names Pevvele."
Angel nodded; swishing her tail as she peered out the entrance. "Kid. That might not be today. It's bad out there..." Pevvele nodded in understanding; still, she would disobey this dragon, if she found it necessary.
...
"My name, is Fallen Angel. Or, Angel, whichever you prefer." She gave a curt nod; returning to her own world as she peered once more into the swirling snowflakes drifting upon the harsh winds. "I will help you, no matter what lengths I must go to, in order to do so. But this requires your cooperation." The feathered dragon gave the dragonet a hard stare.

"Okay..." finally, Pevvele relented, lying down closer to the fire, staring into its flames as a moth would. The poor dragonet reminded Angel of a lost puppy. Fallen Angel sighed, fluffing out her feathers and lowered her form opposite of the pale dragonet, shutting her own eyes. Together, the whistling wind lulled them to sleep.

. . .

The approach of a dragon was given away by their loud, long claws, paws thumping like that of thunder. The center of this large cave descended downward, and emerging from its depths, a large; black, gargantuan beast of a dragon emerged, its beady yellow eyes surveying the expanse of smaller dragons which bowed upon his arrival. Skaaari was the first to come forward, craning his neck in order to fix his emotionless features on the Black Death. "Lord Vipirus..." Skaaari drew out his sentence, glancing downward. "Your plan has unfortunately been delayed." Vipirus' loud snarl shook the cavern, sending Skaaari back with a slight whimper of fear. "How so, Skaaari?" The large dragon lowered his front end, muzzle inches away from Skaaari's nose. He flinched, before meeting the Black Deaths gaze with an equally powerful expression. "The Feather Fury, the...Golden one, has taken the dragonet into her care. It's nearly impossible to infiltrate with such a careful and cautious dragon." Skaaari parted his jaw with a low grumble, sending Skaaari into a recoil. "B-but, it can be done! I promise it will be done. I'll get the dragonet and bring it back to you! Mark my words!"

"And how do I know what you speak is true?" Stepping back, Vipirus studied Skaaari, one talon tapping his chin with a thoughtful expression.
"Because, my lord...I have been faithful throughout the years, have I not?" He pointed out, gesturing to the makeshift cages which held skeletal remains, and barely alive dragons of many sizes. "Fine, Skaaari...Do not fail me again..."