And then she saw him, a man of medium height, enshrouded in an epicurean crimson robe adorned with intricate symbols and crests, in languages long forgotten. The hood was drawn deeply over his eyes, obscuring his face, and she could see only the man's granite-like jaw, with a mouth featuring lips that looked as if cut from a mountainside. Tegain stopped dead in her tracks and looked from the dragon to the man, then back again. She waited for the man to address her, or at least acknowledge her, but when he didn't, she spoke to him, “Who the hell are you?”
He stood still a moment before answering, “I am a monk of the Wyvern Robe, and I am the one struck grievous with shame as I watched you make a mockery of the process.”
Process? What process? Tegain didn't know. What she did know was this man had insulted her, and she returned hotly, “Oh, I embarrass you? Let me wallow in guilt for two seconds before this dragon,” she hooked the thumb of her good hand over her shoulder, “makes a tidy afternoon snack out of me. You gonna do something to help, or are you just gonna stand there like some useless lump?”
The man looked up at Mama Red and made a subtle movement with his hand. At that point, Mama spread her massive wings and took flight with one mighty push off the ground, soaring quickly until she disappeared into the clouds.
Whoa. Tegain was unable to contain her bedazzlement.
The emotionless man strode forward and addressed her with all the animation of a stone, “I cannot tell you how disappointing it is to see the Chosen One bonding with a useless runt. It is obvious your poor decision has doomed us all.”
She didn't care what powers this man had over dragons. At that current moment, she was ready to knock his block off, and even leaned in aggressively, until his features softened into what might have been a smile. He sighed and said, “Nevertheless, let's get you into a robe of your own.”
It was at that moment that Tegain remembered she was completely naked from the waist up, and suddenly she really was embarrassed.