Weyrfall

All was dark and the canvas bag swayed with the footsteps of the ones carrying it. A trio of voices could be heard over the faint clink of the chains binding the dragon's forelegs, hind legs, and muzzle.

"So you brought the Master's newest purchase?" a first male voice called.

"Yeah but this one seems half dead if you ask me," stated a second.

"She pro'lly won' even las' a week," grumbled the third. The second and third voices were closest as they carried the canvas bag.

"Stick her in with the red runt then. All the other cells are full and he will not be a loss if the worst happens," came the orders from the first.

Muted grumbling came from the other two as their footsteps echoed off the stone brick walls. The soft rasp of well maintained metal hinges sounded then more footsteps on stone. The canvas bag was sat on the floor without much fuss as the scrape of metal across stone sounded. With the carry rods removed the bag fell open. Two pairs of footsteps made a hasty retreat and the clang of metal on metal sounded behind them.

The canvas was still covering most of its captive but the first thing the red dragon saw was an ashen white wingtip. He moved off of his straw nest to uncover the rest of the pale creature. The chains bound not just the muzzle and claws. This one also had tail and wings bound as well. That only happened when the captives were feral or violent. Lucky for him this one seemed to be unconscious.

Several scales littered the canvas and small trickles of dried blood came from under the binding rings. The red one reached out a clawed hand. The moment he touched one they all started to fade as the spell that created them deactivated. He could now see the damage left from the spell's chains when a voice called out to him from two cells down.

"That one is special. Do not let her die, young one." The voice was raspy from disuse but carried a weight of authority.

"Yes, matriarch. I will do all I can," stated the red. He went to a corner of his cell to retrieve a shallow wooden bucket of water and some clean cloth. When he returned he started to wipe clean the wounds left from the chains. As he worked he became aware of eyes watching him and a low growl.

His hands froze in midair as he locked eyes with a pair of amber orbs glazed with pain and fatigue. "Were you the one that woke me?" came the harsh query from the pale dragon.

"I mean you no harm. I only wished to stop any further damage and prevent infection." The red's head had dropped low in a non-threatening gesture, his eyes breaking contact with the amber ones. The pale dragon noted the bandages. His care had been gentle. "You have my thanks." came a wispy reply before falling softly back to the canvas, unconscious once more.

The red had treated the worst of the injuries however he knew there would be more scarring to go along with what was already there. 'The stones of the floor will rob what little warmth she has left' Thinking this the red decided to slide the canvas against his straw nest. It took a great effort for him to move the few feet needed. He was smaller than average and had none of the muscle mass like the other captive males.

He gently slid his arms under the pale one's side and minding the wings, placed the other dragon in his nest. Exhausted, he collapsed face first on the other side of the nest. His last action before sleep claimed him was to extend a wing over the pale dragon to share some of his warmth.

Both were unaware of the stirrings around them. Whispers abounded of the new arrival. Some could still smell the faint scent of sun warmed scales coming from the red's cell. Those captured from the wild almost never appeared in this den. They had too much fight or went crazy before being relocated. The fact that the matriarch of the den took an interest didn't go unnoticed either.

As masters go, the one owning the den was not as harsh as some. There was ample room for wings to stretch in the cells and all needs were tended to by either magic or well trained staff. There was even a dome over the den building that allowed for flight. All had learned not to fly too close as it gave a great shock when brushed against. Some still had scars on wingtips or tails from the current running through the translucent barrier. Magic could not be avoided when one had a powerful wizard as a master.