Drabbles of differnt things/Quets

Dragons. The protectors of the magic community respected and feared and worshiped by others. These powerful beings as well as the entire magic community live alongside humans who are unaware of their existence. Few know the existence of Dragons and magical creatures and of those few most keep a wide berth between themselves and the nearest one. However of the few who do know of them some have dedicated their lives to the complete destruction of their kind. One is the Huntsclan.

I'm half dragon!"

"You'd have to be, to have Fire Sight…."

"But…. But… that's impossible! I cannot be half dragon! I'm a member of the Huntsclan! I was born with the mark! I'm supposed to slay dragons, not be one!"

Jasmine shrugged. "From what Phoebe said, I figured it had something to do with a dragon… falling in love with one, I believe she said." She smiled. "What else is there to know? You're here because you love the enemy. You love the American Dragon."

Fu was still trying (and failing miserably) to get people to bet on his "mystical King card" (cough). "C'mon, people! This is a once and a lifetime opportunity I'm givin' ya!" He clasped his paws in a pleading position. "C'mon, show a dog some love, will ya?"

Jake had been caught. Chains dug into his skin, holding him to the ground and opening small wounds. His claws raked the earth as he tried to free himself, to no avail. He eyes burned with a light of desperation as the hunters parted and Huntsman prowled towards him. Jake's desperate eyes met the Huntsman's cruel ones. Huntsman lowered his Hunts-Staff, lighting it with energy, to Jake's throat.

"Now, American Dragon, your battle ends here."

Slay or be slain

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you apart," Rose rasped. Her aim wavered but held. "And blood relation doesn't count."

Huntsman chuckled. "Go ahead. Shoot me. If you have any trace of Thorn within you, shoot me. Prove that a part of you hasn't been corrupted."

"Shut the hell up."

"Why? You know it's true. You've betrayed your family, Thorn. And for what, I ask you? For what?"

He chuckled again, a sound that was quickly silenced when the pressure of Rose's Staff against his throat increased. His eyes narrowed.

"You want to know why I left the Huntsclan? Fine, I'll tell you."

Huntsman's eyes narrowed, but he didn't move.

"I never wanted to be in the Huntsclan. Never. But you told me it was my destiny… I was only what, six? I can't remember. But I was young and stupid, so I went along with it, because that's what I believed. I believed you." Her voice shook. "I went along with it, because it's what you wanted. And I hated it so much, but I never said so."

"I didn't want to hunt magical creatures. They didn't do anything wrong. And the American Dragon…" she trailed off, laughing, but there was no bitterness in the sound.

"And now. Now I'm here, and you know what? I regret nothing. I have friends now; true friends that care for me and are willing to risk their lives to save me." She pulled the Staff back slightly, and Huntsman gasped for breath.

"And the Huntsclan was never my family.

Your mother was in the Huntsclan."

Rose's eyes narrowed, but she stayed silent.

"Are you saying that she wasn't your family?"

"I don't even remember her."

"You are like her in many ways."

Rose's grip on her Staff tightened. Huntsman chuckled.

"I never imagined, however, that you would be harder to kill then she was…"

There was stunned silence as these words sank into Rose's brain and were absorbed, the meaning of them understood. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she stepped back as though she had been struck, her face twisting with shock and grief. "You killed my mother?" she cried.

"She was soft. She deserved to die."

"How? How?"

Huntsman laughed. "It was quite simple, really. After we defeated the changeling, she was exhausted. She had her back to me, and all I had to do was jump her." He laughed again. "Oh, she fought, like a wildcat, but I was bigger, stronger, and eventually I managed to pin her down and kill her."

"She didn't deserve that," Rose moaned. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"Oh, she did. She wanted to find your father, the lovesick wrench."

"My… my father?"

"Your father, yes… that idiot dragon."

Rose shoved her Staff against Huntsman's throat, making him gag, and green energy sparked.

Rose's eyes were like blue steel. Huntsman gasped as she pressed the Staff to his throat, green energy beginning to crackle and form.

"Go ahead, kill me," he rasped. "You'll be doing yourself a favor in the long run, Thorn."

"Don't call me that."

Rose pulled the Staff back, ready to bring it down for a killing blow; and looked up.

Huntsgirl stood saluted on a ledge above, gazing down upon them. Her dark blue eyes were wide with disbelief and fear, and understanding jolted through Rose like lightning.

The second vision.

Now Rose understood. Huntsgirl was seeing what she assumed was her cousin killing her father.

Jesus.

For a long moment, they stood gazing at each other, and slowly Rose understood that the distance between them now, caused by her place below and Huntsgirl's place above, was permanent. They were separated not only by miles, but by beliefs, beliefs that were so different that they could no longer look at each other as friends. Sadness welled in Rose's belly, clogging her chest and throat, and she looked down at Huntsman.

If she killed him, she would be no better then him.

Rose sighed. After a moment, she looked away from her cousin and pulled her Hunts-Staff from Huntsman's throat. "Get up."

He stared at her. "What?"

"I said get up."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I choose to." Rose leaned slightly against her Hunts-Staff. "It's called I win, you lose, I get to choose what happens to you, and I choose to let your sorry butt live." She pushed herself to her full height. "Now get up and get out of here before I change my mind." She turned her back on her uncle and walked away.

She did not hear her uncle leave, nor did she see Huntsgirl follow him. But she knew they were gone, and when a roar of triumph sounded below, she knew her friends had won.