The Winged Ones
T'nathum was not a Pegasus. He had wings, but not feathers. The others knew what he was the moment he came to Pegasus Heights. He was an Equagon, part horse, part dragon. And with joy they welcomed the blue stallion, a fierce fighter who could protect their young from those that would harm them. The dragon in his blood giving him keen insight into the dragons that try to ravage the Winged Ones. He could have chosen to live in the Mountains where the dragons dwell, but chose instead the gentle equines of the Heights.
A gentler protector the herd had never had. He'd let the foals pull his tail, and nip at the wings they found so strange. Patiently he'd teach those with horns how to use them, and all how to use their hooves. He'd tell them which dragons were kind, and would not harm them. He'd describe in great detail which dragons to avoid, perhaps going into more detail than was necessary, but he hoped the stories would deter those who thought themselves brave enough to become a dragon slayer.
And he'd tell them stories about where he was from, and about the other Equagons that live there. The little ones would listen in awe, and he couldn't help but embelish his tales, just little....only a little. Alright, so he was making them up when he ran out of stories to tell. But the foals didn't mind, they half knew that most of what he was telling them wasn't real anyway. They were just fun to listen to.
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