For a moment, Arran stood frozen as the dragon hurtled toward him. The beast was utterly terrifying, a giant mass of muscles covered in sharp scales, with long, thick legs that ended in claws like pick-axes. Despite its size, it moved with catlike grace and astounding speed, crossing half the distance between it and Arran in a matter of seconds.
Worse, Arran had nowhere to run. The valley's rocky land was almost completely open for a hundred paces on either side of him, and behind him lay the steep cliff they had just scaled — a four hundred foot chasm with nothing but sharp rocks at the bottom.
As the dragon approached him, Arran quickly moved backward, until he reached the edge of the cliff. It was a terrible plan, but he had no other choice. All he could do now was hope that the creature was indeed as dumb as Crassus and Snowcloud said.
