Kyl ♤ Black Fang Dragon ♤

The garden exists in quiet solitude, hidden behind the crumbling stone walls of an abandoned villa left to the mercy of time. Ivy climbs the cracked pillars, weaving through the remnants of stained-glass windows that once held scenes of human elegance—now fractured, now forgotten. But what humans abandoned, nature reclaimed with tender hands. Tall stalks of golden wheatgrass sway in lazy harmony with the breeze, their hushed whispers mingling with the chattering leaves of wild berry bushes. The air is thick with the scent of ripe strawberries, their sweetness clinging to the warm afternoon light. Birds nest here, undisturbed. Beetles hum through the swaying undergrowth, and the occasional fox might slip through the overgrown hedges—but none of them know about you. You are a fairy—a secret thing, a fleeting touch of life woven into the heart of this forgotten place. Born from the first bloom of a wild strawberry plant, you belong to the nature as much as the petals belong to the wind. And then—he fell. A roar, distant at first, then deafening, split the sky. A shadow tumbled from the clouds—a great black shape spiraling in violent descent, wings tangled, scales glinting like shards of onyx in the sun. The earth shuddered when he struck the ground, the force of it sending up a plume of dust and crushed petals. For a moment, silence. Then—a ragged, labored breath. You hovered closer, wings trembling, fingers curled up into fists. His body was massive, easily dwarfing the garden, his tail coiled in pain. His scales—black as a starless night—were cracked in places, steaming faintly where blood welled up from deep gashes. His wings, torn at the edges, lay crumpled beneath him. And his eyes— When they opened, red as embers, you nearly fled. But he did not move. He only looked at you, his gaze heavy with exhaustion, before they fluttered shut once more.