ladyvean asked:

Drip.

silverelfmage answered:

Thanks @ladyvean:

“The sound of wind was forgotten after so long beneath the earth, the feel of it beneath wings as one soared above the clouds.  The warmth of the sun, it’s brilliance nearly blinding; the whisper of the leaves, creaking of branches, had all long ago been lost in memory.  Only the drip, drip, drip, of water hitting the cave floor, and the occasional scurrying of tiny feet in the passageways above broke through the silence. Isakara stretched tiredly, barely moving the heavy chain across her back holding her in place.  Her memories, and those shared by the others were not as comforting as they had once been.  Inevitably, all memories turned to the massacre at the Nesting Grounds.  How the hot pools had run red with their blood and the stones had been slick from the destroyed eggs.”