Nothing almost ever fazes Clyde, not after how they grew up. The hollows in wasteland, even in all their distinctions, can’t actually compare to Vorkalth. The dark monsters were just driven on the instincts to kill, but it’s different with people when they are swallowed by the dark.
There are far a lot of worse things than death. Needless to say, it’s not his own end that he fears. It’s the people’s that he loves.
Although everything has an exception and this being in front of him? He shivers at the sight of it. It feels like standing against a god, against a mountain. And he’s just a mere werewolf. He feels fear creep up upon him with just gazing at the dragon’s side, feels terror as he took the beast all up where his eyes could see.
The nocturnal dragon is preoccupied at the moment,
