Stepping down from his fine horse he stood and as the early rays of dawn broke, the light hit his auburn hair turning it to flame red. An Elven figure, he was attired in green and brown garb, his slender body graceful and strong, stood for a moment, allowing his senses to drink in the dew fresh morning air.

For many days now he had carefully tracked them, their trail unmistakable to his keen Elven senses. His hand reached for his bow and readying an arrow he stepped out of the shadow. With quiet step he approached, his eyes beheld her form; no longer majestic or invincible she trembled in misery before him.

Sad eyes begged for release, he raised the bow once more but he had no lust to kill her.

He lowered his bow, then filled with great pity he stepped forward and clasping her giant flank he hugged her. Looking down she gazed into his deep brown eyes and for a moment sorrow mirrored there.

She was a pitiful sight her back raw where the scales were lost, her wings torn and shredded Her noble face bruised and scarred, but she would not rest, she had one duty still to do, one overpowering desire she must fulfil. Stepping forward she lifted one of the tiny forms about her feet and with the gentlest kiss she carried it to where her mate lay.