Skaaari sat on a stone outcrop above the fighting arena; black eyes narrowed as he watched the young dragons fight tooth and claw; perhaps this was his way of making up for the love he had missed throughout his childhood. Placing the pain in his soul, and inflicting it upon others, manipulating them; now—his son was becoming just like him. Skaaari didn't mind; death didn't bother him. Would it bother you, if you lost everything? Blocking the pain was easier said than done, but remaining so collected? Well—that was easy? Not exactly. If you were beat your entire life; surely you'd have some form of hate towards those who raised you? Perhaps disowned you, and rejected you. You were just a servant, after all...Replaceable. Expendable.
A wicked smile was plastered on his face; hiding the pain he felt; if his son lost...Ohhhh, he didn't want to think of the consequences. If he won? Well, let's just say, he wouldn't feel the wrath. Revenge was lovely; really. Happiness was useless; in his mind; an emotion that got in your way; regret; shame; guilt? All pointless. Anger; hate; fear. Those were emotions he felt. And it gave him the advantage over his peers.

He looked on in silence; the snarling kept the fight entertaining. Blood was spilled; blood from his unworthy tribe. The purest were cannibals; killers; emotionless souls of unruly powers. He enjoyed watching them be put to death; ripped from their limbs; eyes gouged out; tongues scattered; skulls crushed to thin fragments. The blood curdling screaming was enough to make a weak dragon hurl. The scraping of scales as the unfortunate victims were dumped into the abyss; the sound of their bodies slamming against rock; impaling their already shattered bodies. Fragile as a butterfly; they were. But even he feared a higher power...Vipirus; a colossal being classified as a "Black Death"...

Skaaari could recite every murder in perfect detail; cause of death; final words; time...You name it. Some would say he wasn't "there". Perhaps he had "issues", or other. But Skaaari was focused on keeping his tribe pure. Discarding the weak.

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"I want to go home; Vallaire!" Pevvele wailed; dragging her claws across the wall in an unchecked fit; Vallaire was seething; this child drove him crazy; finally; he snapped. "You have no home! It's gone! Olympus is gone! Suck it up!" He snapped his jaws shut; panicking as the dragonet made a strange noise; breaking into a long series of loud; teary wails. "Stop! Stop! I'm sorry! Okay! I'm sorry!"

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"We'll find them. Hopefully." Olympus looked at the doubtful Feathered Fury; amber eyes flashing. "It's my daughter! Of course we're going to find her!"
If only he could truly believe it. A sigh escaping his jaws; he slammed his tail against the ground; his limbs folding underneath him as he laid down; head on his paws. "Do you understand? Do you truly understand me?" Reality was questionable. At least, in his eyes. "Do you have any idea? The things I've seen? Faced?" His nose wrinkled; ears flattening against his white scales. "I have no family. I doubt that you know what it is to be an orphan!" The Feather Fury drew back; hurt flashing throughout her features. "Is that really you, Olympus?!" She stood nose to nose; her flanks heaving. Will he not let me help him? Why do I even try, why love him? Why...Love me? Olympus drew back; looking away guiltily. "I'm sorry...I—I just don't know...I don't want to lose you; or Pevvele." Herialea, still seething; narrowed her gaze; tail lashing. "Fine! I forgive you."
Great. Now she's pissed.
Olympus sighed; lowering his head to look up at her with his best form of puppy eyes.

"I said I'm sorry?" He pleaded; blinking eagerly. Star-Stalkers...Fine! "Fine. Fine. Let's just go." Shoving her way through the greenery; she leapt into the sky; her feathers sparkling like raindrops. Olympus went to join her. "Do you ever wonder; if there's more out there? Like—for instance; beyond the Phredimor Isles?" Herialea shook her head; glancing at the horizon briefly. "No. Outside our borders is nothing but Two-legged...Dirty; dragon slaying; resource stealing beings with little to no respect. I've heard stories—I've seen them poison my sister's mind." Her soft; harmonious voice immediately turned to one that was sinister; implying that perhaps more was to be said.
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"In due time, all will be revealed; and blood will run this landscape; Silas."

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