[Gift] The 11th Hour | Memento

The woeful peregrine had caught her rider’s ire, and Ritual fell hard and fast upon them, perfectly merciless. Only once the deed was done, and Ritual sat over the body, heart still sprinting in his chest, breath coming fast, and blood on his mouth, did he really look around.

In their last moments, the peregrine had run for their safehouse, sheltered in the side of a mountain. The door was a narrow fit, but it never needed to close again, so Ritual used his bulk, the shards on his tail to break the frame open, and he squeezed his way inside.

Shelves lined the walls, mostly necessities lest the peregrine intended to hide, but there were a number of items gathered from traipsing across the Chronoscape and returned, here, when they were no longer useful to be carried. Among the stolen books and technology, Ritual found a quetzalcoatl’s skull. Ritual bared his bloodstained teeth. In a display case, there were feathers from an assortment of dragons, and next to them were crude sketches of each dragon with an arrow pointing from where the feather had been taken.

Destroying the collection of mementos ensured that whoever came upon it next could not claim the macabre collection for themselves, could not, then, turn to hunting quetzalcoatls and dragons themselves for some sick pleasures. And Ritual took delight in the doing, more than he had in the body outside.

A lesser dragon would take something of the peregrine’s body for himself, some sick trophy. Instead, Ritual left it there, and took his pride with him. There was nothing here to reward him for a job well done.