As you sit in the open, a large shadow flits over the sun. Not the hazy shade of a cloud either. The shape casts a pure black shadow over you and the ground surrounding for a moment, then is gone. Shaking your head you grab two sticks, and a nearby bit of broken vine (hoping it's not too dry to be effective).
Carefully you place the two sticks on either side of your wounded joint, and begin to wrap the vine snuggly about the entire thing. And boy does it hurt. Maybe because you're so focused on gritting your teeth against the pain you don't question the sudden rush of wing rather like a landing bird... but this would have to be one BIG bird to create that much air.
Dust clouds upwards, much to your irritation. Turning your head back to see what the source of all the flying dirt is, your eyes are met by an unsettling sight.
A dragon... or more appropriately a wyvern lowers it's head to peer at you with eyes as large as beach balls. Hints of forest green dominate the huge irises as it trills deceptively like a songbird. Wings of deep russet are held at half mast, sharp tines like the spokes of an umbrella hold the spandexy skin outward to pocket air. It's skin isn't scaled as you might think, but rather a very thick skin, like that of a rhinocerous,and as blue as an ocean lagoon. Eyelids split from on the verticle blink over the eyes as it surveys you again.
It's really a pity you can't run... then again, it probably wouldn't have done any good anyway. Afterall, a hungry wyvern is something to be reckoned with.
