Bold is Cynder.
I looked at my scales upon my back, each were turning a glossy black, my wings turning deep, wine-red. I shivered and lay down, coiling my tail around my leg. I shut my eyes and saw her. Spyer. She was gazing at the sky with her enormous eyes like a little dog. Her eyes seemed to be sparking silver amongst the purple mist. Her wings were folded. She looked so little and cute. I felt tears prick my eyes.
Stop it!
Xander awoke though it was the middle of the night. He was dark and coal-coloured, the most sinister jet black.

Xander: To be honest, I don't flaming care what freaking kind of dragon I am. Just PUSH off Cynder!


Xander: Get off me you little git. Spyer's only been dead five minutes yet you expect me to want to snog you!?

Xander: Too right I don't!!!

I stormed out, flapping my new black and red wings. I flew for miles and miles, over a mountain capped with snow, but one of the gnarled old trees snagged on me and I tumbled down to the craggy ground. I felt skin under my scales flush scarlet with anger. I looked down into a silver puddle shimmering like glass in the eerie moonlight. I thought it was my shadow, but my scales on my face had turned black, with a gleaming metal sheen. My eyes were blood red, my horns and claws were jet black too. I now saw that the insides of my wind was a shadowy purple, the skin torn. I blinked at the puddle, the reflection did too.
It was me.
I yelped. I knew it was coming but I hadn't expected it to be like that. As I yelled a burst of sharp fear breath flew through my mouth. It felt oddly cold against my jaws and snout, and let out a piercing scream that echoed long through the bitter air.
I got an urge, and urge to create chaos. It was revenge.
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