“Grrrugh...” the silver dragon grumbled in discomfort as he woke from his restless slumber. Months had passed since he’d been struck down by the Empire with that accursed poison spear that had corrupted his flame and blood. Even the Pact hadn’t healed it all completely. The scar tissue was encrusted with faint green veins that pulsed with a faint glow at it’s worse. He was sure his other half felt it like a phantom pain. That was not his problem, however. He just wished he could angle himself to give the damn scar a scratch. Painful and annoying. He gave up with his claw tipped wing and grumpily lay his head back down against the rock. “When is the next mission? I need a distraction.”