So I decided to write a short story. It does include violence and mentions of death, so if your sensitive to that kind of thing I suggest you not read the ending.
The skies were empty, with dark clouds covering the stars. Shadows moved along the ground, rustling the bushes far below. It was a cold and empty night, something very rare, as there was almost always bloodshed, war and grief. Nothing could be heard apart from my wingbeats. The emptiness felt more dangerous and terrifying than a battle, with dragons clawing at each other and blood staining the grass. What a perfect night to be ambushed, to be left to die, with no one around to help. I cursed under my breath as my tail hit a rock, sending ripples of minor pain throughout my body. Exhausted, I perched on a rock, resting my tired wings. I focused on my surroundings, and only then I heard wingbeats. The scent was unfamiliar, then it hit me. An enemy, stronger than me. I was frozen with fear, in my mind i said goodbyes to my friends and family. A flash of burning light hit my scales, blinding me. I couldn’t see, and felt claws tear into my chest. My body was numb, i let out a few shallow breaths before all feeling left me.