Sol, the mighty, scaled terror of the wild, was prowling through the dense jungle when she came across something truly horrifying. The dense underbrush parted before her like an unwelcome guest at a banquet, revealing a grisly scene.

A nest of raptors, gleaming in the faint light that filtered through the jungle canopy, was feasting on a freshly slain Galminus. The raptors, their ferocious beaks buried deep in the carcass, were so focused on their meal that they didn't hear Sol's heavy steps until it was far too late. The air was thick with the stench of blood and the guttural noises of tearing flesh.

Sol's eyes glowed a fiery orange as she crouched, her claws sinking into the soft earth. She knew she had to act quickly. These creatures were swift, cunning, and far too aggressive for comfort. But Sol, as a drake of unparalleled strength, had no fear.

With a mighty leap, she hurled herself into the fray. Her wings flared as she landed atop the back of one of the raptors, sending the entire group into a chaotic frenzy. The raptor beneath her bucked, its head snapping violently from side to side, trying to dislodge her. Its sharp claws scraped against the scales of her chest, but Sol wasn't deterred. No, she was far from it.

With a determined, almost lazy motion, she dug her claws into the raptor's thick, scaly hide. The creature screeched in an ear-piercing cry, but Sol was unbothered. In fact, she was enjoying the show. The other raptors froze momentarily, eyes wide, realizing too late what had just happened. Sol was no mere predator – she was an apex force of nature, and they were about to learn it the hard way.

The struggling raptor beneath her twisted and thrashed, its tail whipping around in a desperate attempt to fling Sol off. But with a cruel smirk, Sol leaned forward, her claws slicing through the raptor's hide like a hot knife through butter. The air was filled with the sickening sound of scales splitting apart, followed by the raptor's agonized screech. The poor creature, unable to escape, felt the life drain out of it with one swift, devastating slash.

As the raptor's body slumped to the ground, the remaining packmates, who had been watching in stunned horror, erupted into a chorus of shrieks. They backed away, their eyes wide with fear and confusion, realizing they had just lost one of their own. It was as if the very essence of their unity had been shattered.

Sol stood tall, her claws still embedded in the lifeless body beneath her. She swiped them clean, then flared her wings once more, casting a dark shadow over the cowering raptors. They quivered, sensing the inevitable.

"Is that the best you can do?" Sol's voice rumbled with amused menace, though it was more of a chuckle than anything else. "A little more fight and a little less crying would have been nice."

The raptors, now filled with terror at the death of their kin and the sheer audacity of Sol, didn't need any further encouragement. They scattered, vanishing into the jungle with barely a trace. Not a single one of them dared to challenge her.

Sol stood victorious over the fallen raptor, its body still twitching as if it couldn't quite believe it was dead. She gave a final, dramatic snort, as if to say, "Well, that was fun, but I've got better things to do."

With a satisfied smile, she spread her wings and soared off into the sky, leaving the jungle to its mournful quiet, where the only sound left was the eerie, distant call of a lone raptor – the last of its kind – echoing in the trees.

SCENEBREAK

The thick, savory aroma of Ian's soup hung in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the outdoors as he took another spoonful, savoring the warmth. It was the perfect comfort on a cool, quiet morning, especially after the wild chase that had left them all a little battered and bruised. As he lowered the spoon, he glanced up, meeting Alan's eyes with a sympathetic look. The older man was sitting across from him, still nursing the twisted ankle he had suffered days ago, but there was a gruff resilience in his face.

"Are you doing alright?" Ian asked gently, his voice breaking the comfortable silence between them.

Alan's lips curled into a slight grimace, and he leaned back slightly, trying to mask the discomfort that still lingered. "Yeah, I'll be fine," he grunted, giving Ian a dismissive wave as if the injury was nothing to worry about. But Ian could see the stiff way he moved; it wasn't nothing.

Before Ian could press further, the door to their small, makeshift shelter creaked open, and Ellie entered. She looked every bit as fresh and alive as ever, despite the slight shiver that wracked her frame. Her damp hair clung to her neck, still damp from a river bath, and her cheeks were flushed from the brisk water she had just emerged from. She carried a steaming cup of tea in one hand, its scent mixing with the herbal undertones of the soup.

"I took a shower in the river nearby," Ellie said, her teeth chattering slightly as she smiled at them, the coldness of the water still apparent in the way she moved. "It's really brisk."

Alan hummed thoughtfully, clearly impressed by her resilience, though he didn't show it much. "Now, do you have any papers on that thing we saw two days ago?" His voice was low but urgent, and Ian could see that his curiosity was still running high. The incident had been heavy on their minds ever since. The enormous shadow they had glimpsed in the trees, the inexplicable screech that had torn through the night—neither of them could shake the feeling that what they had seen wasn't just another animal.

Ellie, ever the researcher, nodded without hesitation. She set down her cup of tea on the table and rifled through the stack of papers she'd brought along with them. There was a certain calmness to the way she worked, as though even the oddities of the world were just another puzzle waiting to be solved. After a few moments, she pulled out a single page and handed it to Alan.

"Here," she said, her eyes sparkling with interest as she looked between the two men. "This is about drakes and dragons. That's what we saw, right?"

The paper was filled with detailed sketches and descriptions of creatures from folklore and old texts—dragons, drakes, wyrms, and other legendary creatures that had long since been thought of as myths. The illustrations looked too real to be anything but accounts of actual creatures. Alan took the paper from her and stared at it for a long moment, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowed in concentration.

"That was what we saw," Alan finally murmured, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief. The words settled like a weight in the air, and a shiver passed through the room. Ian could see that same ripple of excitement and apprehension stir in Alan's chest. It was there in the way his hand trembled slightly as he traced over the drawings, the way his gaze shifted back to the vague memory of the beast they had encountered.

Ellie, clearly as entranced as Alan, sat down beside him, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of the paper. Her mind was already racing with questions. "How could it have been so close to the village? Why didn't anyone else see it?"

Alan's throat worked as he swallowed hard, still trying to process it all. "It had to be," he repeated quietly, as though reaffirming something that didn't quite make sense. But the truth of it was undeniable. They had seen something incredible, something that blurred the line between myth and reality. And now, the thought of it lingered, hanging over them like the breath of a storm waiting to break.

The moment seemed to stretch, their minds alight with the implications. There was an undeniable shift in the air, a charge of something both dangerous and thrilling. The riddle they had just begun to uncover had the potential to change everything.

"What do we do now?" Ian finally asked, his voice low but with a note of both excitement and uncertainty.

Ellie looked between them, the gears of her brilliant mind already turning. "We study it. We learn as much as we can. We find out where it came from, what it means, and why it's here."

Alan glanced up at her, his face full of that familiar, determined fire. "Then let's make sure we're ready for whatever comes next."

And just like that, the world outside their small shelter seemed a little less safe, but a lot more exciting.