Rage of the Rathalos (Saga)

[Samus Aran]

The dragon was tiring, that much was clear. Samus had taken a few potshots, but given the speed and distance, and the fact that she was simultaneously trying not to fall off the back of a pegasus, it felt more like a waste of energy than anything else. They’d been flying for some time now, at quite a lick, and seemed to be heading towards the mountains. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” said the hunter. “If it looks dangerous when we land, you need to back off. We’ll take care of the dragon.”

The soldier snorted. “You say that like I’m a civilian. But alright. I’ll have my men circle overhead and wait.”

“Good.” They were descending now, into a crag between cliffs. Stone passed overhead, blotting out the light for a second, and Samus felt her senses go on high alert. Then they emerged into a cave. The sun filtered in through large holes in the ceiling, casting light on the scene before them.

The Rathalos landed, staggering on tired legs as it fell forward. It was greeted. Another large dragon – this one green – rose and screeched gently towards her mate’s face. As she did so, Samus caught a glimpse of the ground beneath it. A nest.

“Go,” said Samus, and dropped from the pegasi’s back. It wheeled back around to leave the cave as the hunter dropped to the stone ground. Two sets of draconic eyes now glared at her.

“Get ready,” came the voice of Cindy, pulling out her hammer. “This is going to be hard.”

The cave shook, as the rage of the Rathalos - and the Rathian - concurred.