Blood and Solace

I can’t get the smell of blood off of me, the blood of the innocents that I’ve killed. I scrub and scrub, but their blood is still on my hands. I hate it, and I hate myself.

None of them, not one, worried about being in my presence. Why would they? Dragons have always been the protectors of the shifters, the strongest and most fierce of us all. And yet, as much as I hate myself, as much as I know