Zeir could hardly hear his comrades' shouts and screeches. Rays from Phoenix flooded the meadow in a searing light, stretching to him. It was the fire bird's way of calling him over. The pulsing, magnetizing invitation became too strong to resist. Of course, there was also the risk of being scorched alive if he wouldn't comply.
Phoenix rested on the lush grass, softening the light from beneath him. In this way, he was able to preserve the delicate vegetation. His gleaming wings glided with practiced elegance, emitting just the right amount of light toward his followers.
Sliding gently from the top of the mountain, Zeir landed before Phoenix. The glittering yellow eyes settled upon the platinum fur, warming the scales beneath the purple outline as it strolled along the War Wolf Dragon's pelt.
