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His sire had been bedridden for weeks. The cub had heard rumors that he wasn't sick, just afraid to show his face. His dam and Lies talked sometimes, and both were incredibly - sometimes brutally - honest, especially when it came to the topic of his sire.

As Dead trundled past the lake close to their camp, he saw a familiar flash of red, violet, and black. A ketucari, fishing. Curious, he approached, only to see that it was, in fact, his sire, head dipped low. Dead smiled despite himself, it had been a long time.

"Papa, you're back-"

Before he could finish his sentence, a claw came down across his face, staggering him. With bleary eyes, he looked up at his sire, looking over new bright marks and fancy feathers. Just like the Dragons. Dead would be even more of a letdown now.

"Don't call me that," Spat the new Dragon before twisting up into a fierce smile. "Now, get in line. I am risen and I want to greet my people."