The dainty little fae dragon was still asleep in the cave, and the wyvern's eyes slowly opened. He squinted when a ray of sunlight shone into them, but he didn't care; he was alive. He stretched his neck and moaned as his back ached, and he wearily sood up on the bends of his wings, gaining his balance by hooking his claws into the soil beneath him. He wanted to thank Galieth, but Galieth was also asleep still. He straightened himself, finally standing proud and tall once again, his dented armour hanging by the straps, he left the dank cave for fresh air.