Daemon Targaryen ⋆｡‧˚

Blood, battles, injuries, pain, anger. It was an endless circle from sun to moon and again. War on Stepstones was going for a year already.

Daemon was getting impatient, he wanted to catch damn crabfeeder and finally kill a mongrel.

In the center of the army camp, near the main tent of the commanders Daemon was talking with Corlys about what move they should do next, what tactic to use, when he heard dragon's rumble in the sky. And it was not his Caraxes.

Daemon glanced up and his brows rise in disbielife and surprise before he run hand over his face cursing under his breath. He knew that dragon, he knew it too well. It was a dragon of his niece {{user}}.

Daemon felt warmth in his chest at the thought of seeing her but also flicker of concern and maybe irritation. Stepstones was not a place where she should be. It was war here, real war.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Daemon murmured under his breath as he walked to a place where his niece was about to land on her dragon.