Atop a mountain sat the half frozen city of Chima. Due to the cold weather, and the blizzards that attacked the buildings on a near weekly basis, living up there was difficult at best, but the citizens made do with what they could. While most towns were bustling with life, and roars of the citizens, Chima was often very quiet. In most cases, the only sounds that could be heard were that of snow being crushed under feet, as the people ran to their destination, and that of the bitter cold winds that seemingly enjoyed spreading misery to those foolish enough to leave their homes.

Tonight was different streets were bursting with life, as dozens of citizens had joined together with torches and any sort of tool they could find on hand. As the sun began to set below the horizon behind the mountains near the cliff side town, a mob of cheetahs began to chase two dragons out of their village, each trying to shout over one another.

The older of the two dragons, a bulky green dragon with a deep brown underbelly and gray horns that would remind someone of those found on top of a ram, had given up on trying to stop the hoard of former friends and neighbors, choosing to listen to their demands to leave or meet whatever fate the towns people felt appropriate. He used his large paw to push his much younger companion along, nearly smothering him in the process, and pulled the purple dragon out of his stupor.

The mob had chased the duo past the large gate built into the wall that protected the city from the monstrosities that lurked beyond. Once the two were past the city limits, the mob had stopped, blocking the main entrance into the city. The green fugitive looked down at the young purple drake by his side. Despite the large shadow the mountain had cast over them, the fires from the torches the mob carried made it easy for him to see the look of disbelief and heartbreak that was written all over the purple dragon's face. The green dragon dug his claws into the snow, and he looked back over to the mob and bore his sharp teeth at them.

"Is this really fine with you!" The green dragon shouted over the crowd, silencing each of them. Now holding their attention, he gestured to the few beams of fading light that poked over the top of the mountain. "You are sending us to our death here, can't you at least wait till morning to throw us out?" He tried to plead with the townspeople, hoping that they would listen to some reason. Other than the bone chilling cold that could freeze even the most hot headed fire dragon, once night fell, monsters and other horrors loved to come out of their homes to hunt. There were few sightings of such creatures due to the fact that not much could actually live up there, but to forget about them completely would be foolish.

From the mob, a single cheetah walked out in front of them all to face the dragon duo. He pulled down his thick red hood, revealing his orange fur. Seeing him, a low growl escaped the green dragons maw. "Prowlus! We have done nothing wrong, let us back in!" The cheetah shook his head.

"You, Greven, have brought that purple blight to our town, and it's about time we removed the both of you."

"It's been three years! Three years and Spyro has shown no signs of harming any of you!" Greven shouted over the increasing winds. The only thing that was keeping him from shivering from the cold, was the burning hatred for everyone who stood in front of him. He glanced at one of the townspeople he recognized. "Salis, Spyro helped you rebuild your roof when the snow collapsed it." The cheetah rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say or do.

Spyro tapped Greven's side with his tail. "Greven, let's just go." Spyro's body shook from the cold, and he wanted to leave before it got colder, but the earth dragon didn't listen.

"Femic, Spyro helped you hunt game for the town dozens of times. This is how you want to repay him!" Hearing his name being called out, the hunter looked away, also conflicted as to if they really should spare the two this cruel fate.

Prowlus heard a quiet chatter of the people behind him begin to brew, as they started to doubt what he had convinced them of doing was truly right. He let out a small huff and turned towards the crowd. "Need I remind you all why we live in this frozen waste land!" His loud cries silenced the mob. "Malefor came to our village, and also showed nothing but kindness and aid, only to stab us all in the back." He pointed to an older looking female cheetah. "Dilila, how many of your cubs did he slaughter?!" She balled her paws into a fist, but looked away. Prowlus turned his finger to another cheetah standing near the front. "Gret, how much time and effort did you put into building our city, only for it all to be destroyed in mere minutes?!" The cheetah opened his mouth to speak, but his words never came.

Prowlus turned back to face the two who held his ire. "Those of us who survived retreated to this frigid hell to escape you dragons. We let you stay for a time, but how much longer before Spyro turns on us all? How much longer before we are forced out of our homes yet again, and where would we even go next? I've warned you all for three years that this welp will only cause us harm. Please, don't falter now!" The townspeople began to speak to themselves yet again. Looking back at his people, Prowlus still saw doubt amongst them.

"How about recently? How much longer does it take for our brave hunters to return home? Those two drove our food away because they demanded to be fed their weight, and now the wild game has moved!" The people fell silent. Feeling successful, Prowlus turned his attention back to the dragons.

Greven watched the people of Chima with a burning rage in his eyes. Despite his own best efforts to convince the people otherwise, they still refused to move aside and let them back in. He scanned their faces trying to find someone who might side with them, but they all held nothing but looks of uncertainty. Greven opened his mouth to try and argue further, but Prowlus interrupted him. "If you do wish to live another day, then I suggest you start moving," he said, raising a finger and pointing to the purple dragon.

Greven glanced down at his friend, and saw that he was shaking violently from the cold, icicles hanging from his horns, and his eyes were shut tight, as he breathed small puffs of fire to try and keep him warm without using too much energy. Another guest of bitter wind blew, finally reminding the earth dragon that he two was beginning to freeze. He looked back at the crowd, and still no one moved. He let out a small growl before saying in a hushed tone, "fine, have it your way." He nudged Spyro with his tail. "Sorry to keep you waiting, let's hurry out of here." Spyro gave him an approving nod and the two began to take their leave.

Prowlus put his hood back over his head, hiding away his smirk. It was a long fight for him, but he couldn't have wished for a better outcome.

"Wait!"

A voice shouted from the crowd, surprising everyone, especially Prowlus. Greven stopped to look back while Spyro kept moving, needing a place away from the wind soon. Greven saw one of the cheetahs from the former angry mob push past everyone and run up to the large dragon and handed him a small orb. "Here at least take this." the cheetah held the object up for Greven to take. It was a ball of leftover bits and pieces from a recent kill. Since there were no trees near their home, they often used hairs, grease, and other parts of their hunted game to make these balls which were used as fuel to start fires for those days that the never ending winter grew too hard to bear without one. "I hope this will help."

Greven gave the cheetah a scowl, but still took the small ball. "You'd give us a chance to survive, yet you won't stand up for us? You are no better than the rest of them." The cheetah seemed to shrink at his words before returning to his friends and family, avoiding the glare that Prowlus gave him. Turning around himself, Greven hurried along to catch up to his purple friend.

The two did their best to trudge along as quickly as their stiff and cold muscles could let them. Due to the terrible weather most dragons dare not live in such a place, but both Greven and Spyro felt like of all places, this would be more accepting of them. This wasn't the first time they had been chased out of a city. This would make it the seventh time this had happened to the duo.

Normally Spyro would be lumenting right now, mentally damning himself and asking himself how he could have done better, and why Greven even puts up with this. However, the high winds and the low temperature made it nearly impossible for the purple dragon to think of anything. His body had gone numb, his mind going blank. Snow started to pile up on top both dragons, ice forming below that. Flying would be impossible at this point as well, as parts of their wings were now frozen to their side, and forcing them loose could cause damage. Not that this was a major concern to them right now.

More importantly they needed to find shelter, something to get them out of the snow, and away from the wind. Spyro's eyes began to grow heavy, and he tripped, knocking himself into Greven, who wasn't doing much better himself. "Get up, we need to keep moving." Greven mindlessly said. He had no plans of dying here that night, but he was losing hope fast. He had stopped for a moment to help his friend back up. Spyro began to wonder just how long they had been walking. He looked up and between the dark clouds, he saw one of the several moons that floated above their world.

While Spyro was doing this, Greven took another moment to try and find something to keep them a little warm and he thanked the ancestors when he saw what appeared to be a cave, one that wasn't terribly far away. He nudged Spyro. "We are almost their Spyro, please just hold on." Spyro said nothing and did his best to follow Greven.

Once inside, they slowly walked as fast as they could into the cave before huddling close together for whatever warmth they could find. Greven placed the small ball onto the ground in front of them. Doing his best, Spyro lit the orb on fire, and soon enough they felt a tiny bit of warmth bath their chests. It wasn't much to keep them going any further down the mountain, but help stave off the cold a little for now. The ball sizzled and popped as the grease from the unwashed hair and other bits sizzled. It smelled horrible, but the two grew used to such smells. If it wasn't for these things, then Spyro and Greven would never have been able to live up there for so long. They had to burn several daily just to survive, but no one seemed to mind too much. Spyro did his best to think about his time at Chima, at least to keep his mind off the cold that threatened his life.

They both helped hunt and manage the rations, and everything else asked of them. Spyro specifically remembered a goat fur blanket that one of their neighbors made for both of them to use to help keep warm at night. He cursed himself for not taking it with him before they fled. Like Prowlus had mentioned, Spyro had noticed that while hunting they had to travel further and further for their meals, and that the hunters had to bring home more to feed the two dragons, but he had hoped that if they were helpful enough, that the people would just accept this kind of hardship.

Now it was time to find a new home yet again, assuming he got to leave this cave alive. His body still shivered and shook, the fire doing very little to help the rest of his. His eyes started to drift close, but he shook his head to try and stay awake, worried that if he did close them then he would never open them again.

"W-wh-where-t-to-ne-xt Gre-v-v-en?" he asked, wanting anything else to think of. The dragon beside him shook his head.

"D-don-t kn-know y-et. To, c-col-d."

The cave fell mostly silent again, minus the crackling of the fire, and the sounds of them quivering as their bodies tried their best to warm up again. As luck may have it though, their salvation walked into their cave, but this wasn't the sight they would have asked for. They turned their heads towards the mouth of the cave as they heard the heavy footsteps of something coming in. They couldn't quite make out what it was, as the fire hardly illuminated the cave, and the moonlight didn't extend that far either. All they could tell was that it was big, and walking towards them. Greven narrowed his eyes trying to figure out who their guest was. His eyes began to adjust slowly, but it was enough to make out who the newcomeber was.

"O-o-rc." Greven did his best to whisper to Spyro. Both dragons did their best to stand, with Spyro struggling more than his friend. In most cases two dragons could easily defeat a single orc, but with their strength and energy nearly depleted, something as easy as an orc, could prove challenging.

As if just noticing the two dragons himself, the orc let out a deep growl which grew into a roar. Spyro barely made out the shape of some object in the orc's hand being raised up. It ran at them, each foot step shook the floor under them. Greven made a barrier of stone in front of them just as the monster tried to crush them with its club. The orc smashed through Grevens defence with ease, pelting the two with the debris. Spyro tried to run around to flank it, but his legs weren't responding quickly, making his dash more of a light limp. The orc swung his club wide, catching Spyro as he tried to move, flinging the purple dragon a few feet away.

Greven headbutted the orc, his horns digging into the beast's tough skin. It stumbled backwards a bit, but remained on its feet. It let out another roar from the slight pain, before smacking the earth dragon with his club. Greven fell, his side aching from the blow. He looked up just in time to see the orc raise his club above his head, but Spyro jumped on its back and sank his teeth and claws into whatever skin they could find in the dark.

The orc thrashed about, trying to throw the dragon off him. It didn't take the creature too long to free itself from Spyro's grasp, and it let out a painful roar when he did so. Spyro was tossed to the floor, becoming dazed as he landed. He shook his head, only to realize that he held something foul tasting in his maw. Spitting out the chunk of skin and flesh, Spyro looked up just in time to see the orc raise his club yet again.

Jagged rocks shot from the ground, stabbing into the orcs side, and it let out a grunt in pain. Wounded and scared for his life now the orc began to pant hard before it started to run away, wanting nothing of the two dragons anymore. Spyro stepped aside, not wanting to be trampled by the monster. He stood there watching it about to leave before Greven jumped in front of it, and mauled the orc, using whatever strength he had left in him to rip it apart.

Once the deed was done, Greven slugged himself off the beast. Breathing hard, he slumped over, his body screaming in pain. While the fight didn't last very long, walking around in the cold took a much larger toll on him than he originally expected. Spyro walked up to his friend. "Are you going to be alright?" Greven merely nodded, and did his best to sit himself back up. Happy to hear that, Spyro turned his attention to the now dead orc that laid beside them. "Think you can move away a little?" The purple dragon asked of his friend.

"Yeah… just…. just give me a moment." Greven whinced, as his body screamed at him for moving around more. Once he moved a couple feet away, he let his body fall to the ground again. Spyro walked over to the small fire they had, and thanked the ancestors that what was left of the ball didn't get crushed during the fight. Using his ice breath, he put out the fire. Picking up the remainder of what was their source of warm, he placed it atop the orc carcass. With a few puffs of fire, the ball reignited, and slowly began to travel downwards to the body. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Using this creature's body as fuel for their fire didn't sit well with Spyro. He listened to the oily and sweaty skin pop and sizzle, skin curling and blackening as the flames creeped further and further across the body. Worse yet was when the fire reached its face, and began to boil the whatever liquid still remained in his eyes, until there were two unsettling pops. Spyro looked away, unable to take watching the gorey scene, and tried his best to mute the noises. This wasn't the first time they had done this sort of thing, but he wished it was the last. At the very least they had a bigger fire to keep warm now.

The purple dragon laid near his friend still facing away from their new campfire. Greven draped a wing over him, hoping that it would help a little, even if he was basically just placing a cold wet blanket over the boy. Spyro gave him a small smile nonetheless and nodded. "Thanks." Greven nodded back.

They both waited till they warmed up before speaking again. "So, I think we'll try Warfang next." Greven suggested.

Spyro tilted his head. "Why do you think that? Isn't that the dragon capital? What makes you think they'll accept us there any better than here?"

"Yes it is the capital, but more than dragons live there. They have tones of diversity of all sorts of races. Cheetahs, moles, apes, and yes of course dragons. So, I'm hoping that if they can co-exist, then maybe they would be more accepting of us."

"You mean me." Spyro shot back, to which Greven gave the younger dragon a look.

"Spyro, i'm sticking with you, no matter what. Trust me, I wouldn't have nearly frozen myself if that wasn't the case."

Spyro couldn't argue with that, but it didn't sit right with him that he was putting his friend through this. Greven slowly stood, his body fighting against him as he rose up. He shuddered as he got a large whiff of the campfire. "I'm going to see if this cave has any red gems clusters around. I need to get away from that horrible stench. I'll be right back." Spyro didn't say anything as Greven walked past.

Spyro placed his head between his paws, and tried to figure out what he should do. He knew he was holding Greven back from a much better life. Due to the actions of Malefor, not many people trusted Spyro, and those who did at least a little were eventually convinced otherwise by someone. He didn't fully blame them for their fear of him. From what he had heard that Malefor did terrible things.

According to the stories Spyro had heard, Malefor started out more like a hero. He went around to nearly every city on Avalar, and did what he could to help out. He would stay a few days before leaving for the next. Then one day, his scales turned black, and his eyes glowed a bright white, which nearly hid his irises. His attacks were chaotic, and he ran around a village for a while before leaving for seemingly no rhyme or reason.

To make matters worse, Malefor didn't just hurt or kill people. From what others had told him, Malefor entombed dozens of dragons into a black crystal statue. Why and how he did that was a mystery to everyone. To make matters worse, he just vanished one day. Nearly seventeen years ago was the last time anyone saw him, and only a year after he disappeared was when Spyro's egg was laid.

People had a good reason to fear him, and Spyro knew that. Which was why he was both confused, and saddened by the fact that Greven decided to be beside him through all of this. It was Greven who actually raised him since he was an egg, though they weren't related by blood. Greven told him that while he was visiting a city to meet up with some of his friends, he saw that the whole village was engulfed by fire. He ran into the inferno to try and help and that's when he found Spyro's egg, alone, and unattended. So he took the egg and fled. He didn't know who Spyro's real parents were or if they were still alive even.

Since then, he had raised the purple dragon as if he was his own child, teaching him how to fly, how to speak, how to read. He helped him with his earth element as well, but had to force others into teaching Spyro the other three. From there the story was always the same. They would live in a town for a while, before being forced to leave.

Living in Chima was actually the longest time he spent in a town, and he was starting to think he was going to be accepted there. His heart sank. He thought he had made some good friends there too. Till he saw them in the mob that is. Spyro knew that Greven also was hitting it off with several others as well, which was all the more reason Greven should have stayed and just let them throw him out alone.

He considered arguing with Greven again about leaving him, but It always went the same way. Greven would insist on staying with Spyro, but would never give a reason as to why he wanted to stick around the purple drake. Spyro shook his head, wanting to clear his thoughts. He was too tired, and sore to even bother such fruitless arguments again. Spyro sat upright and closed his eyes and began to concentrate on the sound of his heart beating.

"Bu-bum, bu-bum, bu-bum, bu-bum."

It was beating smoothly, but that wasn't what he was listening for. He did his best to clear his mind, and listened.

"Bu-bum, bu- bu-bum, bum, bu-bum bu-, bu-bum, bum."

A second heartbeat, this one slower, more mellow than his own. He never knew whose heartbeat it was, only knowing that it wasn't his own. It felt distant and yet he could hear it as though he had placed his head against someone else's chest. The sound scared him at first when he first discovered it, but over time it gave him a form of comfort. While most people showed malice towards him, he knew he could rely on the soft heart beat to keep him in unjudging company. He had asked Greven if he knew anything about a second heartbeat, but he had no clue.

"How's our mystery friend doing?" Greven asked as he returned. He had seen Spyro do this sort of thing all the time whenever the purple dragon was nervous or anxious about something.

Spyro opened his eyes and looked up at his green friend. "Still fine, nothing has changed."

Greven scoffed and laid down with ease, making Spyro assume that he had found a cluster. "Lucky basterd. Whoever they are, they seem to live a pretty relaxful life." Spyro could only offer Greven a smile for his complaint. "Oh by the way, I found a red gem cluster not terribly far into the cave. It should be easy to find, but if you do get lost, the smell should be enough to lead you back here." he finished with a groan, as he smelled the air filled with the scent of a burning body. Spyro was more than willing to find it, as his body didn't recover much now that they had a real fire now to keep them warm. He got up to find it, when Greven stopped him. "Look Spyro, I know that a lot is going on right now and that…" he paused and shook his head, choosing something else to say. "I know things will be better in Warfang. Just trust me."

Spyro gave him a small nod. Despite all the hardships they both had gone through, Greven was always there for him, even if he wished he wasn't sometimes. "I know. I trust you."

I hoped you all enjoyed this new project of mine. Yes I know this whole setting isn't anything new for me, but trust me, I do have big plans for this story. Starting off, I need to ask you guys about how I had the two heart beats typed out. I wasn't sure if that was the best way to have that set up, so I want to ask if you guys have any better ways of showing that. As always, I would love to thank you all for reading this chapter.