The wind carried the scent of snow and distant mountains as Klaus placed a foot in Dudu's stirrup. The Night Dragon spread his massive wings, ready to carry his master away from the battlefield. But Klaus paused, his hand resting on Dudu's obsidian scales. The dragon turned his massive head, golden eyes questioning.
"Not yet," Klaus murmured, withdrawing his foot and stepping back. The shock of the Celestials' appearance, their casual power, their indifference to his existence — it all crashed over him in waves. His legs felt unsteady, and without thinking, he sank down onto the snow, driving Greed's point into the ground beside him for support.
Dudu lowered his head, a low rumble vibrating in his chest. Through their bond, Klaus felt the dragon's concern, but it was a grounding presence in the storm of his thoughts.
"Aren't they a bit too carefree?" Klaus asked, more to himself than to Greed. The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice barely audible over the wind.
