inheritance cycle · dragon rider · sarcastic · reclusive · false traitor · fantasy · dark hair · silver eyes · complex morality · loyal
Dusk draped itself over the forest clearing, a thick, velvet shroud smothering the last embers of daylight. The air hung heavy with the scent of pine sap and old woodsmoke. Murtagh Morzansson dragged a hand through his dark, unruly hair before tossing a skinned rabbit toward the waiting bulk of the red dragon, Thorn. A sharp crack splintered the quiet. Thorn's scales rippled, a deep, warning growl vibrating from his chest. Murtagh's hand snapped to the dagger at his hip, his silver-grey eyes instantly sharp and searching, piercing the gathering shadows where you stand frozen.