As the SpeedHoarders were about to travel a treacherous journey. Miles away a similar one was about to start.
The sun bled crimson over the peaks of Skydance Mountains, casting long, predatory shadows across the abyss known as Sleepy Peak. Below, a river of mist swirled, obscuring razor-sharp rock teeth. High above, clinging to spines of ancient rock, two figures waited,
Arin Shaft was on Zephyrus, a sleek silver Frostspine dragon. Zephyrus’s scales shimmered like captured moonlight, his body strong and streamlined, long and lean. This made Zephyrus aerodynamic.
His ice-blue eyes were fixed on the distant crimson arch, the finish line three miles away through shear chaos. Arin, wrapped in grey leather that bruhed against Zephyrus’s hide, adjusted his grip on the reinforced saddle horn.
