Northern Dragon
A white desert stretched across the immensity as far as his eyes could see. His feet took firm steps in the fresh snow. He was covered from head to toe. Beside him was a larger-than-average dog with a fierce look.
The snow was falling from the sky in piles. It was a sight like no other in Ragnir for a long time. If only he could build a fire and sit down on the ground for a moment to eat something. But the blizzard made it impossible to light any sparks around.
He did not care about being buried in the snow, his village had already been slaughtered, he did not care about life or death. He just wanted to be able to meet the gods, so he could kill them himself, that was all he wanted.
He walked a little further, when his body could no longer cope and collapsed. His fellow wolf who accompanied him tried to drag him to safety, and within minutes he too collapsed to the ground.
When the man came to, he was on the back of a winged creature of giant proportions. He immediately realised. This was the dragon of the legends that his ancestors told.
He was now on the right track to meet the gods.
