(possible mate maybe?

)
Marceldor was tired of flying, he was tired of trying, and most of all he was tired of dying. Ever since Jayma and the hatchlings had been killed right before his eyes, he hadn't been the same. He had tried to be part of clans, but they all rejected him, driven him out, almost killed him! The last time he'd tried to enter a clan, he had got his wing joint almost torn off completely, and he still had to fly off to avoid being more injured. After flying for what seemed eternal, he stopped in a quiet forest, bleeding over all the growth and vegetation. A fox silently walked up to him. "Hello, little fox." Marceldor said in a strained, gravely voice."You wouldn't know how to dress up my wounds wou-" He stopped talking, for the fox ran away. Marceldor sighed, and rested his head on his large paws. Will anyone come to save a dying, scarred dragon like me? He wondered as he laid there.