Frostbite’s Story The icy wind howled through the frozen peaks of the IceWing kingdom, but Frostbite barely noticed. Perched on the edge of a jagged cliff, his dark, shimmering scales gleamed faintly in the moonlight, a strange contrast to the snow-covered world around him. His wings, patterned with frost-like swirls, unfurled slightly as he gazed down at the valley below. Frostbite was an outcast—not because he was a hybrid, but because he didn’t belong anywhere. The IceWings thought he was too sneaky, too secretive, like he was hiding something. The NightWings saw him as too cold and emotionless, with none of their clever charm. “I don’t need them,” he muttered, his breath visible in the icy air. But deep down, he couldn’t shake the sting of their rejection. As the moons rose higher, their silvery light cast long shadows over the snowy terrain. Frostbite’s sharp eyes caught a flicker of movement—a group of dragons trudging through the valley below. Intrigued, he leaped from the cliff and glided silently toward them, his black scales blending into the shadows. The group was made up of IceWings, but they looked battered and desperate. Their leader, a tall dragon with frost-covered horns, was arguing with another dragon, her voice sharp with panic. “We can’t go back! The Titan’s Gorge is cursed—everyone knows that!” Frostbite landed silently a few tail-lengths away, his claws crunching softly in the snow. “What’s so cursed about it?” he asked, his voice calm but cutting through the frigid air like a blade. The group spun around, startled. Their leader narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?” “Just a curious dragon,” Frostbite said, tilting his head. “But if you’re heading into the Gorge, you’re either very brave or very foolish.” “It’s none of your business,” she snapped, but her voice wavered. The others exchanged nervous glances. Frostbite’s sharp gaze softened slightly. “Look, I’m not here to stop you. But I know this land better than you do. Let me help.” The leader hesitated, her claws digging into the snow. “And why would you help us?” “Because,” Frostbite said, a hint of a smirk playing on his snout, “you’ll probably die without me.” The dragons grumbled, but eventually, they relented. As they set off together, Frostbite felt a strange flicker of warmth in his chest. Maybe he didn’t have a place in either of his worlds, but out here, in the wild, he could forge one for himself. And if that meant walking into a cursed gorge with a bunch of strangers, so be it. Little did they know, the Gorge’s curse wasn’t what they thought. Something far older—and far darker—was waiting for them in the shadows. And Frostbite’s true strength, the icy blend of NightWing mystery and IceWing resilience, was about to be tested like never before.
I tried shading, but you can't really see it T-T
