That was a mistake. Her vocalizations prompted the ire of the group again. They turned to her and she saw fire in their eyes.
Which reminded her of her most important defense.
Assa opened her mouth wide and belched flame. She swung her head around as best she could so that she sprayed heat in a circle surrounding herself.
The figures jumped back. The effort at fire breathing exhausted Assa immediately. She felt weak and small, but she had established some territory for herself.
She panted, gasping for air. Her wing sent pain signals to her brain. She turned her attention to the tear and without thinking, relying wholly on an instinct completely foreign to her, yet completely embodied in her, she breathed fire onto the wound.
Her skin seared and blackened. There was pain: sharp and cut
