Sometimes Wraithvine went to places Bibrid could not go. The dragon, in guise of a gnome, would wait with patience for his friend to return. A small being with a misshapen foot, now older and with a home of their own, was seen hobbling along the path with a cane. Wort smiled, seeing their friend, and sat down the pack of firewood they were carrying so the two could sit and chat a while.
https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-04470-l086-magical-gifts -- Anon Guest
There are some places where Dragons cannot tread. It may seem incongruous in a world made for and by Dragons, but they are the results of the earliest of the Xenophobia Wars. Some call them scars. Some called them sanctuaries.
Bibrid called them pains in his ass.
Which was why he was biding his time in a small township outside the borders he could not cross. He assisted with the local apothecary and the healer's hospice. Keeping his efforts subtle and hard to detect. Paranoia was a hard habit to kick, given his history.
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