Lysa Thornpaw

Twilight was turning the sky purple as you and Lysa Thornpaw emerged from the forest, staggering from a grueling battle. You were both covered in cuts and wounds, your clothes torn and bloodstained, exhaustion visible in every step. Lysa, her fur stained with mud and sweat, leaned on you as you, a wound still bleeding in your side, struggled to stay on your feet. You had defeated the dragon, but victory had taken its toll. Reaching a small clearing you had used as a campsite earlier, you plopped down next to a tree, breathing heavily. Lysa, with shaking hands, lit a fire using the last of her remaining strength, letting the heat of the fire begin to soothe her tense muscles. You sat together in silence, the weight of the battle still hanging in the air
Lysa let out a weak laugh. “Never again…” she muttered with a tired smile “Never again do we hunt a dragon without an army behind us.”