“He wrote to clarify things,” he begins to explain, “Admetus was in a rage, much like he always was.” A heavy sigh falls from the wyvern before he continues. “He wanted to kill the Wanderers of the Dreki before they decided to rise up as the Ocranians have.” The Prince grimaces, his teeth bared at the revelation. Dragons didn’t kill without provocation, despite what the humans seemed to believe of them. They only ever protected themselves from assaults. Even vengeance, no matter how warranted, wasn’t allowed. Not even the wyrms hadn’t sought revenge for their fallen brethren, yet the dragons were considered the monsters for nothing more than the way they look. “Cruor tried to talk him down but he wouldn’t listen.” Islwyn pauses and the weight of his words slow them both. Oryn stops, his shoulders heavy with grief. Cruor would be branded a traitor, a killer, worse, a kin-slayer for protecting humans. The same humans who would happily wipe out his kind for nothing more than existing. “He had no choice.” Islwyn says, his voice barely a whisper on the breeze. The silence between them grows until Islwyn lets out a guttural growl, clearing the air of the sadness they both feel at the loss of another of their kind.