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Description
He was unusually quiet as he was lead to his certain doom by none other than Rufus Seirra. His tail was restrained tight against his back with rope, an uncomfortable and undignified position. His arms were tied together at the wrists, but this wasn’t as humiliating.
His shoulders began to ache and the brim of his hat pressed down on his sensitive ears. He heard Rufus’ soft steps behind him and couldn’t subdue the feeling that he was going to feel the dragon’s sword between his ribcage at any moment. Rufus had said he’d put in a good word with the authorities for Zorua’s sake, but he knew better. Rufus didn’t care one bit about the safety and well being of the Ringleader. He would probably execute him himself.
“Keep moving.” The Ringleader scurried forward at Rufus’ command, not realizing that he had stopped. They were now walking through the trees of the Dark Woods, every tree making some gruesome face at the Ringleader, as if mocking him. They were headed for a small port town on the border, ships making there way to and from Tarqua everyday. The Ringleader’s insides squirmed unpleasantly as his vivid imagination showed him all the horrible things the townsfolk would do to him for killing that family. “They deserved it…” he mumbled, not aware he was speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’d happily do it again!” he spat more forcibly.
“I heard,” Rufus interrupted, prodding the Ringleader in the back, “say anymore and I won’t be able to say a thing to help you.”
The Ringleader mumbled something along the lines of Rufus’ horrible sense of humor. He felt his tail struggling against its bonds and the familiar panic began creeping over him. What would they do to him? Lock him in the dungeons with only moldy bread to eat as the guards laughed and called him a murderer? He didn’t kill anybody, well, he did but they were nobodies.
“They were nobodies!” he shouted over his shoulder at the fighter, that being his excuse for what he did.
“They were somebody and you’re testing my already thin patience,” Rufus responded, his gaze boring into the back of the Ringleader’s head.
The panic was overwhelming. Rufus’ cold words sounded like the death sentence to the Ringleader, and he stopped, trying to pry his hands free, his tail thumping against the small of his back in attempt to break free of the ropes. “Ringleader,” Rufus said warningly. The Ringleader either ignored or didn’t hear him. He slammed his wrists against a nearby tree, the sharp bark fraying the rope. He heard Rufus say something but the words didn’t register in his panicked mind. He suddenly realized his hands were free and he dove one into his inside pocket as he heard the sound of cold steel being pulled from its sheath.
He slowly turned, his hand still against his chest. Rufus’ arm held his sword right at the Ringleader’s neck. “Perhaps I should stop giving second chances, hmm?” he muttered, his eyes sharp. The Ringleader stood frozen, staring at the angry dragon in front of him, all thought wiped clean from his head. His eyes shifted from side to side as he tried to remember why he had defied Rufus and brought down his horrible wrath. His fingers brushed against the soft material of the hidden bag in his coat and he remembered.
Before Rufus could react, the Ringleader tore his thin cane-sword out of the bag and smacked the sword at his throat away. The momentary surprise was gone in an instant, and Rufus threw his weight behind the sword, smashing their blades together. The Ringleader was pinned to the tree that helped him escape, his mind working up into panic again. His tail ripped free of the ropes and slammed its fist into Rufus’ knee. Rufus sidestepped to avoid the impact, releasing the Ringleader from the tree. He continued to dodge as the Ringleader’s frenzied swipes came again and again without pause. Rufus noted the manic look on the once frightened face and knew he was walking on edge.
He slipped under the Ringleader’s tall reach and tripped him with a well-aimed kick. The Ringleader’s sword flew out of his hand, but was then caught immediately by his tail. Rufus barely had time to flip back as the tail stabbed the sword at him. The Ringleader pushed to his feet and hurtled himself at him, his face contorted in fury. Rufus steadied his feet and brought his sword back, then stabbed forward as the Ringleader crashed into him.
He felt an agonizing pain in his calf even as his sword stabbed into the Ringleader’s side. The Ringleader had his hand clamped around Rufus’ neck and his tail twisted the sword that had stabbed into Rufus’ leg. He grit his teeth at the pain, then slammed his head into the Ringleader’s, sending him stumbling back dazed. Dragon fire burst around Rufus and spun around his sword arm as he tried to ignore the pain. The Ringleader fell on the ground, the tail thrashing wildly as it had lost the sword. Rufus saw the panic back in the Ringleader’s face, but no longer felt any pity for the Wanted.
The Ringleader stared at Rufus as he lunged at him, the dragon fire lighting up the dark clearing. Time seemed to slow as he knew he was going to die, that he was going to break his promise to Zorua. He had known he was a disappointment, even if the boy had loved him. New purpose dawning on him, he reached into his coat again and snatched the bag.
Rufus did not pause as he saw the sudden movement. He swung his flaming sword down on the Ringleader, but from the small bag in his hand burst a sickening gray smog. Rufus stumbled back as the smoke swirled around him, blinding his view. Shapes began to form, crude shapes of clowns, Ferris wheels, crystal balls all swung around him, making him dizzy. Shrieking laughter tore through his ears and a creeping madness began seeping over him. The circus shapes spun faster and faster and Rufus had a fleeting thought that this must be what it’s like in the Ringleader’s mind, then he was thrown into oblivion.

A small tapping woke him up. He groaned, turning his head away from the nuisance and a Pidove took flight, his perch on Rufus’ head disturbed. Rufus frowned slightly at the grass, then jumped to his feet, looking wildly around. The small clearing in the Dark Woods was empty, except for a small glimpse of red in the grass. He reached down, and picked it up.
It was a clown nose.

Description
He was unusually quiet as he was lead to his certain doom by none other than Rufus Seirra. His tail was restrained tight against his back with rope, an uncomfortable and undignified position. His arms were tied together at the wrists, but this wasn’t as humiliating.
His shoulders began to ache and the brim of his hat pressed down on his sensitive ears. He heard Rufus’ soft steps behind him and couldn’t subdue the feeling that he was going to feel the dragon’s sword between his ribcage at any moment. Rufus had said he’d put in a good word with the authorities for Zorua’s sake, but he knew better. Rufus didn’t care one bit about the safety and well being of the Ringleader. He would probably execute him himself.
“Keep moving.” The Ringleader scurried forward at Rufus’ command, not realizing that he had stopped. They were now walking through the trees of the Dark Woods, every tree making some gruesome face at the Ringleader, as if mocking him. They were headed for a small port town on the border, ships making there way to and from Tarqua everyday. The Ringleader’s insides squirmed unpleasantly as his vivid imagination showed him all the horrible things the townsfolk would do to him for killing that family. “They deserved it…” he mumbled, not aware he was speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’d happily do it again!” he spat more forcibly.
“I heard,” Rufus interrupted, prodding the Ringleader in the back, “say anymore and I won’t be able to say a thing to help you.”
The Ringleader mumbled something along the lines of Rufus’ horrible sense of humor. He felt his tail struggling against its bonds and the familiar panic began creeping over him. What would they do to him? Lock him in the dungeons with only moldy bread to eat as the guards laughed and called him a murderer? He didn’t kill anybody, well, he did but they were nobodies.
“They were nobodies!” he shouted over his shoulder at the fighter, that being his excuse for what he did.
“They were somebody and you’re testing my already thin patience,” Rufus responded, his gaze boring into the back of the Ringleader’s head.
The panic was overwhelming. Rufus’ cold words sounded like the death sentence to the Ringleader, and he stopped, trying to pry his hands free, his tail thumping against the small of his back in attempt to break free of the ropes. “Ringleader,” Rufus said warningly. The Ringleader either ignored or didn’t hear him. He slammed his wrists against a nearby tree, the sharp bark fraying the rope. He heard Rufus say something but the words didn’t register in his panicked mind. He suddenly realized his hands were free and he dove one into his inside pocket as he heard the sound of cold steel being pulled from its sheath.
He slowly turned, his hand still against his chest. Rufus’ arm held his sword right at the Ringleader’s neck. “Perhaps I should stop giving second chances, hmm?” he muttered, his eyes sharp. The Ringleader stood frozen, staring at the angry dragon in front of him, all thought wiped clean from his head. His eyes shifted from side to side as he tried to remember why he had defied Rufus and brought down his horrible wrath. His fingers brushed against the soft material of the hidden bag in his coat and he remembered.
Before Rufus could react, the Ringleader tore his thin cane-sword out of the bag and smacked the sword at his throat away. The momentary surprise was gone in an instant, and Rufus threw his weight behind the sword, smashing their blades together. The Ringleader was pinned to the tree that helped him escape, his mind working up into panic again. His tail ripped free of the ropes and slammed its fist into Rufus’ knee. Rufus sidestepped to avoid the impact, releasing the Ringleader from the tree. He continued to dodge as the Ringleader’s frenzied swipes came again and again without pause. Rufus noted the manic look on the once frightened face and knew he was walking on edge.
He slipped under the Ringleader’s tall reach and tripped him with a well-aimed kick. The Ringleader’s sword flew out of his hand, but was then caught immediately by his tail. Rufus barely had time to flip back as the tail stabbed the sword at him. The Ringleader pushed to his feet and hurtled himself at him, his face contorted in fury. Rufus steadied his feet and brought his sword back, then stabbed forward as the Ringleader crashed into him.
He felt an agonizing pain in his calf even as his sword stabbed into the Ringleader’s side. The Ringleader had his hand clamped around Rufus’ neck and his tail twisted the sword that had stabbed into Rufus’ leg. He grit his teeth at the pain, then slammed his head into the Ringleader’s, sending him stumbling back dazed. Dragon fire burst around Rufus and spun around his sword arm as he tried to ignore the pain. The Ringleader fell on the ground, the tail thrashing wildly as it had lost the sword. Rufus saw the panic back in the Ringleader’s face, but no longer felt any pity for the Wanted.
The Ringleader stared at Rufus as he lunged at him, the dragon fire lighting up the dark clearing. Time seemed to slow as he knew he was going to die, that he was going to break his promise to Zorua. He had known he was a disappointment, even if the boy had loved him. New purpose dawning on him, he reached into his coat again and snatched the bag.
Rufus did not pause as he saw the sudden movement. He swung his flaming sword down on the Ringleader, but from the small bag in his hand burst a sickening gray smog. Rufus stumbled back as the smoke swirled around him, blinding his view. Shapes began to form, crude shapes of clowns, Ferris wheels, crystal balls all swung around him, making him dizzy. Shrieking laughter tore through his ears and a creeping madness began seeping over him. The circus shapes spun faster and faster and Rufus had a fleeting thought that this must be what it’s like in the Ringleader’s mind, then he was thrown into oblivion.

A small tapping woke him up. He groaned, turning his head away from the nuisance and a Pidove took flight, his perch on Rufus’ head disturbed. Rufus frowned slightly at the grass, then jumped to his feet, looking wildly around. The small clearing in the Dark Woods was empty, except for a small glimpse of red in the grass. He reached down, and picked it up.
It was a clown nose.