A woman, a female elf with dark auburn hair raced out onto the battlefield from behind a boulder. She lifted her arm as if she might stop his father’s dragon from falling from the sky. “God, no…please…no,” she screamed. Lachlan adjusted his grip as MacAndrew dove, and prepared to leap for his father.
She shot a glance skyward. Their eyes locked for a fraction of a second. The horror worming across her face hit Lachlan in the chest, and he swore out a curse. No one was close enough now to save the king.
This snippet’s from an action scene in my WIP, Chalvaren Begins, with the Fighting Dragons of Chalvaren.
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I’m curious if you feel the same urgency Lachlan suffers while he watches his father fall from the sky?