Denair looked up at the enormous being that had held him captive for so many years.  The demon was fighting with others of his kind.  In his years as a captive, Denair had seen this many times.  He didn’t understand the monstrous beings but he could understand their tone.  There was some kind of disagreement.  His owner didn’t like something the others were doing.

 The fight, as most did between the beings, quickly came to blows.  The small wind dragen closed his eyes and covered his ears as roars and bellows thundered through the air.  Then his cage was knocked from its perch.  With a soft cry, Denair pulled up wind to soften the fall.  Still the wooden structure shattered.

 Shaking, he climbed out of the wreckage.  The demons had moved further away now.  His master and several others rolled and wrestled on the floor.  Denair, expecting to be plucked up at any second, quietly made his way to the doorway.  Not believing his luck he darted out the door.

 Again he summoned up his wind magic and vanished from sight.  Invisible he made his way down the hillside toward the crest of the Winter Mountains.  He doubted that he would make it over the mountains in the dead of winter, but anything was better than life as a slave to the demons.