Varkarth Bilewing was having the time of his life. This was his first sanctioned strike. Normally, the elders told him not to bother with the humans. Too stringy to eat. Too loud and runny away. Too…beneath notice. They were like a nest of bees—annoying if provoked, but not worth the sting unless they started buzzing where they didn’t belong. But this? This was different. He wasn’t just hunting. He was declaring. Dominance.
