Linger

ROSCORRO He lay atop a flat roofed building, a giant gargoyle watched the lad below. Massive wings rested at his side, strong and powerful. Capable of carrying a beast of his magnitude through the sky. They were the proud wings of a raptor. Colored gold on their top before it faded to brown, than black at the tips. With that orange gold the feathers shimmered blue, like the flicker of flame dazzling the eye when light hit them. Spine lined down his back while horns covered his face. The longest protruding from the top of his forehead growing smaller until it was a ridge of spine along his snout. Ear, long like that of a bobcat, remained alert atop his massive head. The color of dark earth, darkness, and snow the stallion stone out against the white of the building he had made his perch. A long, black hairy tail (like unto a serpent's) draped over the end of the building. A wicked mace, attached to the end with leather straps, glinted in the dim light. His forepaws, the paws of a great dragon, also hung over the edge the orange scales like motel gold glistening. Eyes, the same color as the storm clouds overhead, watched the boy as he struggled against the rock. They had watched him for days atop this same perch. Ever watchful over the lad as he focused all of his energy on growing stronger. From his vantage point on the rooftop the tribrid could see the land surrounding Vynter, see anything that sought to harm him. He was single minded focused on his task. As such he was unaware of anything around him. Easy prey. He had never seen his little buddy fixate so determinedly upon something. Normally he was easily distracted. But since gaining his wings he was eager to build the strength necessary to use them. Admirable. Though the stallion wished he would take more time to take care of himself. Collapsing everyday out of exhaustion was not good for one's health. You needed to pace yourself. Though it seemed Vynter heard none of his words. So the protective Clydesdale set to keeping watch. Not only looking for danger from the outside, but from Vynter himself. The moment he would fall he would swoop down to help. With the constant storms it was not hard to collect water. One just needed a method for gathering it. On the second day Roscorro spent his time searching for such a thing. He eventually found some old pots that still held water well enough. He kept them were they could collect rain water over night and had finally gathered enough for one to drink they fill three times over. With the coming storm they soon would be refilled so he was not concerned with preserving it."Vynter, come drink." he called, though he didn't expect him to hear. If he did look he would see Roscorro gesturing towards the steps that lead to his perch. They were worn and cracked, but still provided a decent ramp for the yearling. "Talk." But You Cannot Break My Hope! I'm Still Undefeated!

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@Seiji @Vynter