Passengers in the rearmost seats of flight 656 never felt a thing as the tail section of the jumbo jet was suddenly wrenched up and off. Suction tore through the cabin as it decompressed; abruptly, though, the rush of air halted. Only a few of the passengers had time to turn and see a massive, bright-red dome plugging the hole before it surged forward, tearing seats free and flinging shrieking bodies ahead of it. It crashed through the length of the rear cabin, smearing some hapless souls against the walls as it passed, crushing others tightly against the bulkhead. For a moment it rested there, pulsating, a large crevice at its tip dripping clear fluid, and during that moment, a stunned silence hung over the cabin.

The screams began anew as the red dome withdrew and then slammed forward again, collapsing the bulkhead and bursting into the center cabin. The fuselage crumpled behind it as it began to pump, like a piston, each stroke driving it further and further into the aircraft, piling up more and more bodies ahead of it as the passengers clawed their way forward. Soon there was nowhere to go, and the pounding dome began to batter the packed humanity, compressing them into a tighter and tighter space. Very few were left alive to see the crevice at it tip suddenly quiver and yawn open, gushing gallons of a thick, white fluid which filled the First Class section. It burned, like acid, and the suffering of the writhing survivors was mercilessly cut short as the aircraft finally came apart.

Havoc moaned as his pleasure poured forth, and rested, his only movement the beating of his wings which held him aloft It had been beautiful. More beautiful than he could have ever dreamed. This would be the first of many, he knew. Dragons often mated dozens of times during the brief season, driven by a lust that, once kindled, could barely be controlled. And he had been without for so, so long. Gradually he began to grow more aware of his surroundings. His vision cleared at last.

WHAT???

His roar of surprise quickly turned into an angry growl, and he tore the bizarre shining object to pieces between his claws. What was the meaning of this? Where was his mate? And what in the world was this flimsy metal shell doing up here?

Havoc hurled the wreckage aside and looked around. Only now was he realizing that things had changed. Everything was strange. The sun was oddly-colored. The magnetic fields he sensed were all wrong. What was happening? Where was he? This could not be real. Not after he had waited for so long. Not when he had finally found his ideal mate!

Arching his back, Havoc dove down through the clouds. The landscape he saw below him when he broke the ceiling had changed also. It was grey and rocky, rather dismal, and quite definitely not the same land he had just left. Burning with disappointment and the unquenched mating-urge, but curious nonetheless, he backwinged and landed in the midst of a maze of stone towers and canyons. It stank here, worse than his own breath did after an accidental backflash. It was a stale, smoky smell, mixed with decay. How had he gotten here?

He took a step. Something crackled wetly under his foot, and looking down he noticed for the first time the buzzing activity all around him. Tiny figures milled about, shying away from the foot that had landed in their midst, and swarmed in a confused mass all along the floor of the maze. Now he could hear their tiny, high-pitched squeals. Annoyed, he lashed out with a kick, sending dozens of them sailing, and then he bent and scooped a few up in his foreclaw for a closer inspection.

A disdainful sneer crossed his muzzle when he brought them to his face. Humans! So, these crawling little vermin were responsible for this outrage. He had had his share of trouble from them in the past, but this time they had gone much too far. How dare they steal him away from his mate, when he had been so close? And how dare they mock him with the indignity of that flying metal contraption!

With a grim smile, he closed his fist, squashing the insolent little pests into a sticky mass which he cheerfully licked from his fingers. So, the humans presumed to toy with a dragon in his mating season, did they? Very well -- so be it. He would play their little game.

And he was going to enjoy it.

The floor of the rock canyon was carpeted with thousands of squirming little bodies that crunched underfoot as he walked on them. He paid them no heed, intent for now on finding something to quench the burning in his loins. His eyes soon fell upon a likely target: a long, metallic serpent crawling along the ground. It seemed about the right size, and if it was at all like the metal plaything he'd found in the sky, it should provide him at least a momentary amusement. He would see to the humans afterward.

Striding toward the serpent, he stooped and grasped it by its head; to his surprise, it came loose. The whole thing, he realized then, was assembled in pieces, and as he lifted this first segment to his face he could just barely see countless tiny eyes staring back at him from within its transparent sides..

Havoc let out a mirthful roar. "Well!" he bellowed, placing his eye right against the thin metal shell to peer at the panic-stricken humans packed within. "This is most interesting. So, little ones, Havoc has come, as you desired." He tossed that first segment aside, and placed a foot on either side of the remaining ones which lay idle below him. "And as your call removed me from my mate's side, I think it only fair that you perform in her stead." His member, needing very little urging in his current state, had already slid forth from its scaly housing. Slowly, he lowered himself to all fours, and crouched down.

The second car of the train was instantly flattened as the dragon's haunches settled upon it, the passengers within shrieking in short-lived agony. Scales as hard as steel grated on the roof of the third, pinning it in place, as the dragon's mammoth penis pressed against and then burst through the end. Havoc rumbled delightedly at the feel of countless little bodies wriggling against his most sensitive flesh as it pressed against them. It was an unexpected pleasure. "Ahhh, yes, that is nice!" he hissed, and digging his talons into the ground, he began to thrust, his organ driving itself again and again into the screaming mass. He was aware of other little forms darting around his hands and feet; for now, though, he ignored them. "Don't run, humans," he chuckled. "Don't tire yourselves. You will all serve as mates for me before I am through." He thrust harder, beginning to pant, his tongue curling up over the top of his muzzle. The caress of so many limbs and faces against him drove his passion rapidly higher. Within moments, he loosed a roar that shattered glass great distances away. His seed spewed violently into the coach, wave after wave, until it rolled from the empty windowpanes in a surreal opaque tide.

Havoc drew a deep breath and relaxed, rising up again to his feet with the crumpled train car, dripping semen and gore, still impaled on his erection. He laughed when he saw a few hapless survivors writhing at his feet. Coated in his cream, they shrieked and flailed as the flesh was slowly eaten away from their bones. "Poor humans," he said mockingly. "Is the dragon's seed not to your liking?" He stood and watched them until they died, and then with a twist of his hips he sent the coach hurtling into the side of a nearby building.

But the ache was still there. Deep down in his loins, gnawing at him, having been only partly appeased by the humans in their metal snake. The play had been satisfying, yes, but it was not enough, not a substitute for a proper mate, and this made him all the more resentful. Growling, he stooped and snatched up the surviving train cars, twisted them to wreckage in his hands, and tossed them away. Then he turned his attention to those who had escaped his initial assault, and were now fleeing through the concrete canyon. "Mindless insects," he spat as he watched them weaving their way around the massive prints he had left, not thinking in their panic to try to hide. With only a few steps he was upon them.

The humans squealed and veered away from his foot as it crashed down to the ground beside them. He took another step, chuckling scornfully as the entire pack veered again, and he began to walk forward very slowly, herding them side to side with each footfall. "Oh no! Oh no! Look out!" he said in a mocking voice. "The big dragon is going to step on you!" His taunting added to their terror, sending them into even wilder flight, which only added to his sport. He lifted one foot and swung it over them, allowing it to hover long enough for the nimblest of them to escape from its ominous shadow, and then he left it fall. For a moment he simply rested there, feeling the little sluggards writhing beneath it, and then shifted his weight onto it, feeling them pop one by one before the ground finally gave way. He did this over and over, step after step, thinning their ranks until only one remained. This one darted out from underfoot one more time before he managed to trap it under one huge toe. Rather than crushing it, though, he slowly lifted his foot and strode ahead, leaving the shivering man unharmed in his wake.

"Your speed earns you your life," he snarled over his shoulder. "Now run, and tell your fellows that Havoc Emberwing has come to teach them what it means to trifle with a dragon." He moved on then , striding purposefully along the now-deserted street, searching for further sport, and further relief.

Far from the scene of the dragon's rampage, a lone man was fighting his way along streets packed with fleeing citizens, but unlike them, he was clawing his way closer to the carnage. Professor Nordon paid almost as little attention to the mob around him as the dragon himself did; his mind, numbed by guilt, could only focus on trying to stop the massacre that he had brought on.

My fault. The words echoed in his head. My fault. Like a hot branding iron. My fault. Unceasing, unbearable, until he wished he could take his own life and silence them. Indeed, he nearly did, until he heard the monster speak. The newscast had been brief, but it had been long enough for him to hear the ungodly voice bellowing out taunts and challenges, before a shadow had fallen over the reporter and the picture had faded to static. The dragon spoke. And if it could speak, then perhaps it could be reasoned with. How, though, to make such a monster listen to him?

It will listen, he told himself. It has to listen. Because I am the only one who can send it back.

Ahead of him he could hear the crash of buildings being torn asunder, and thousands of screaming voices that were nearly drowned out by the angry giant's roars. My fault. For the hundredth time he stumbled, nearly crushed beneath the weight of those words alone. He had to move faster; every second meant hundreds of lives. He prayed that the dragon would pass closely enough for him to catch its notice....and that it would spare him long enough to hear his plea.

It did not take long for Havoc to catch up to the fleeing populace. He found them swarming through a wide corridor that ended in a cul-de-sac from which only two narrow channels afforded escape. The resulting bottleneck trapped thousands of them in a seething, screaming mass. Again he had to marvel at their infinite stupidity, and for a brief moment he felt sorry for them.

It was a very brief moment, though. As dimwitted as they were, these little pests were responsible for his missing a very crucial opportunity, and he was not about to allow them to go unpunished. He strode forward slowly into the thick of them, amusing himself simply by crushing them underfoot. The scent of blood reached his nostrils as the number of dead rose; it created another stirring, this time in his belly, and he was suddenly reminded of how long it had been since he had enjoyed a proper meal. It was hardly a concern, as the humans were quite handy for feeding more than one type of hunger.

Havoc crouched and then dropped to all fours. His head swayed side to side on his serpentine neck, weaving over the mob below him. He thought at first that he could pick and choose, with so many, but soon he realized that at their size it would be a waste of time. With his jaws gaping wide, he lowered his head and thrust it forward through the crowd, shovelling dozens of writhing bodies into his mouth. He swallowed them whole, as is a dragon's habit with small prey, and took a moment to enjoy their frantic little struggles as they slid, still alive, into his stomach, before he took another mouthful. With their sheer numbers trapping them in their corral, he was able to eat slowly, a rare luxury for him, until his belly was full. Even then, it seemed as though he had hardly made an impact on their ranks. Such a shame, to be full so soon, when so many were still alive.

He would have to remedy that.

Rising again, he took a moment to lick away the remains of those who had fallen beneath his hands, and then he arched his neck downward. His mouth opened wide. The air before him began to ripple with waves of heat, which soon exploded in a titanic fireball. Flames roared downward and flowed along the street like a river, silencing the screams of the crowd and leaving behind a sea of charred, crackling flesh.

Havoc smiled as he surveyed his handiwork. Cooked meat had such a pleasant aroma. He realized that in all his long life he had never bothered to try it, so he stooped to pick out a sample. As he did so, he felt raindrops pattering on his back.

No, not raindrops. Curious, he stood and looked around, and a few more struck on his arm. It was fire. A rain of fire. He watched in momentary confusion as more and more little orange puffs burst against him, barely marring his scales. "Well, well," he said with a grin. "At last they decide to fight back." He swiveled his head side to side, scanning the streets and rooftops below, but couldn't locate this new adversary, until he felt a burst on the crown of his head. That could only have come from...above.

Looking upward, he noticed a flock of tiny silver fliers buzzing overhead. They looked like miniature replicas of the mockup dragon that the humans had used first to taunt him. Puffs of smoke rose from under their wings Havoc followed them with his gaze, fascinated. "How clever," he said aloud. "They mimc the dragon." He saw that they were flying lower, embolded no doubt by his lack of movement. He swiped his hand through their midst, hoping to grab one, but missed. A second try, and he managed to snatch one from the air. Its wings crumpled in his fingers, a surprising fragility, and as he brought it to his face for a closer scrutiny he saw a tiny human squirming on its back. "So that's it!" He poked curiously at the flier, and was startled when flame sputtered from its back and its human rider was thrown, saddle and all, into the air. As he watched, a plume of white silk rose from the saddle, leaving the rider drifting like a seed on the wind.

Havoc laughed and caught the plume between two fingers, lifting it up high so that the shrieking rider dangled before his nose. "A very noble effort, little one," he rumbled, "and for that I shall kill you quickly." His long tongue licked out and curled behind the little man, dragging it into his mouth and thrusting it between his teeth. His jaws closed, and the silken plume fluttered lazily down to the ground.

The other fliers had risen out of his reach -- at least they were not completely stupid, he thought. His massive wings snapped out and swept downward as the dragon leaped into the air, the shock wave pulverizing buildings and people in a huge radius from where he'd stood. He beat his wings hard, climbing rapidly to where the fliers were beginning to scatter. Laughing, he swatted at them, batting a few from the air and sending them hurtling to earth. He caught one with a quick grab, and broke off one of its wings to find out how well it could fly that way. Not well, apparently. Another one burst as his tail snapped against it. A few more were sent whirling out of control after being caught in the blast of his wingbeats. Some of the riders managed to leap off of their mounts and floated off on their silks; Havoc was delighted when one of the shrouds caught fast on his right horn, and he decided to let it stay, to see how long its owner would last.

Soon only a single flier was left in the air, and Havoc set off after it. This one was feisty. It darted left as he fell in behind it, then rolled and spun in the opposite direction. Havoc followed close behind, matching its erratic course, slowly closing the gap. It broke right; he mirrored it, his head maintaining a fixed position in the flier's path. The rider grew more frantic, his maneuvers more desperate, but the dragon had much experience in pursuing prey like this. Havoc's body curled and looped through the air, while his gaping jaws slowly inched forward until the flier was between them, and then they closed.

Havoc arched and dove downward as his teeth crunched down on the flimsy flier. An acrid taste spewed from it as he squashed it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue, and he spat the wreckage out with a sneer as he backwinged and landed. He suddenly remembered the one he'd snagged in flight, and reached up to tug the silk from his horn. To his disappointment, the rider had not survived, its frail body torn apart by his violent flight. He twisted it loose from the silk and tossed the body aside. The silk itself fluttered downward, coming to rest draped across his massive penis, erect from the excitement of the chase. Its caress reminded him of his still-unsatisfied mating urge, and the burning in his loins once again made itself apparent. It was time again to quench that fire, and the silk had given him an idea.

He strode purposefully through the circle of devastation that the blast of his landing had caused, and chose a particularly wide avenue. As expected, it was already beginning to swarm with fleeing humans. He started forward slowly, herding them ahead of him with his feet, and then caught sight of one of the little carriages that were so abundant here. It was speeding wildly through the throng and leaving a narrow swath of broken bodies behind it. Havoc smirked. He hardly had to expend the effort, with those things doing his work for him. This one was wasting bodies, though; he wanted them alive for now.

Besides, killing was *his* privilege.

Havoc quickened his pace, oblivious to those he trampled, his attention focussed on the careening carriage. He soon overtook it, his left foot landing heavily upon it and crushing it flat in its tracks. Smiling, he slowed his pace and strode onward, once more allowing the humans to build their numbers up into a dense mob ahead of him.

Professor Norton gasped as he stumbled through the street, clutching the megaphone tightly to his chest to keep it from being knocked away. The tall buildings blocked his view; he had no idea where the dragon was, and the sounds of destruction and carnage seemed to come from all directions. He was having to fight harder against the rush of people fleeing in the opposite direction, so he knew he had to be getting close.

He came upon a major intersection, and saw people rushing to the left. The dragon, then, must be approaching from the other direction. He pushed forward, trying to stay close to the buildings, but the stampede knocked him away and forced him into the street. He heard tires squealing, and looked up in time to see the grille of a taxi cab bearing down on him.

No, he thought, not this! I can't die like this! I have to send that monster back! He tried to move his feet, but they would not respond. He was frozen in place, like a deer. The taxi charged toward him, the driver's face hard and desperate. The hood and fenders were dented and smeared with blood. It was obvious he had no intention of swerving or even slowing his mad dash.

A shadow fell, and Professor Norton heard the crash of metal. One second he was watching the taxi rushing toward him, and the next he was staring at a set of enormous, curved talons. Shaking, unsure if he was alive or dead, he slowly looked up. His gaze travelled up along a powerful leg, to a long, muscular tail weaving side to side. His heart pounded in his chest, and finally he was able to muster enough control over his legs to stumble aside. The dragon's giant toes curled as its foot tilted forward, and then lifted, talons kicking back the flattened wreckage of the cab. He simply stared, awestruck, as that mighty foot glided forward through the air, the muscles of the leg flexing elegantly as the toes spread once again and descended.

And then he let out a scream of horror, snapped back to reality as the foot came down upon on those who had fled past him a moment ago. He saw them stumble, knocked down by the scaly sole as it covered them, and then he saw arms and legs twitching from under it as the foot sank into the pavement. And then when it lifted again....

Professor Norton choked as his gorge rose, and with a groan of dispair he staggered after the rampaging beast. He couldn't catch its attention from where he was, and he knew there was no way he could catch up to it now. It had already outdistanced him with only a few steps. He *had* to find some way of getting on front of it.

Then, as if in answer to his prayers, the dragon stopped. He gasped and broke into a run, whimpering in horror as he saw it crouch and begin to reach down toward the panicked crowd that had been driven ahead of it. In desperation he ran into the lobby of a hotel that sat on the corner where the dragon squatted. The elevator doors were open, but the power was off, so Professor Norton started the long, breathless climb up the stairs to the roof.

Havoc smiled as he crouched and scanned the sea of terrified faces below him. His penis throbbed insistently, and he looked forward to the pleasure these little gnats were once again going to provide him. "Stop squealing so," he said scornfully as he cleared a spot ahead of him and stretched the silk out on the ground. "It is as I said: you brought this upon yourselves when you stole me from my mate, and so *you* must now serve as mates for me." He lowered both hands and began to scoop the squirming bodies onto it. "I would think you would be honored." He gathered up the edges of the silk, using his fingers to poke any stragglers back inside as he fashioned it into a bag, and then with a lustful growl he shoved his penis down hard into the open end.

Instant pleasure rushed through him as the organ sank into the squirming mass. He held the edges of the makeshift bag closed around himself with one hand, and with the other began to squeeze at the bulging end, increasing the writhing against his flesh. "Ah, yes," he crooned, closing his eyes, his hand squeezing them harder. His hips twitched, thrusting the thick organ into the tightening mass, his senses growing dim with the rising passion.

It was all over too quickly, as with a roar he poured his seed into the humans' midst. Flesh hissed as it was eaten away, and the wild thrashing within the bag quickly died away. Havoc sighed happily and let the bag fall away, revealing naught but bones within.

Pleasing, he thought. Yet still not satisfying. He was beginning to consider what to do next to punish these little gnats, when he heard a voice behind him. A true voice, not the grating little squeak that humans make. Turning, he was surprised to see nobody there -- only a single little human standing atop a stone block at eye-level to him. Smirking, he raised an immense hand to smash it to bits.

"Dragon!"

Havoc's hand stopped in mid-descent, and he narrowed his eyes. The voice had definitely come from the little one. Slowly he stood up, and peered down contemptuously at the human. "Who addresses me?"

"I do!" Professor Norton called into the megaphone. "You mustn't continue killing those people. I am the one who brought you here."

Havoc's eyes widened, and a grin broke across his muzzle. "Ah, I see. So the wizard finally shows himself." He snaked his head down closer. "And what gives you to tell me, Havoc Emberwing, what I must and must not do, Little One?"

"Because I am the only one who can send you back. And I will do so, if you will only allow me time to make adjustments to my instruments."

"If? IF?" Havoc threw his head back and roared with laughter. "There is no IF, Puny One! You ARE going to send me back, if you and your world are to survive."

Professor Norton's ears rang from the boom of the dragon's voice. "But I must adjust the instruments first! If you will only stop killing my people, and stop the destruction, I will work as quickly as I can, and will have you home before the end of the day."

Havoc's tongue slowly slid from his lips and passed thoughtfully across the top of his muzzle as he considered the offer. Finally, he shook his head. "I've a better idea," he said, lowering his face close to the little wizard. "I am going to continue killing, and I am going to continue destroying your pathetic little city. Only when you are prepared to return me to my home will I stop. That should give you ample incentive to work quickly."

"No!"

Havoc bared his teeth and smashed a corner of the building away with a fist. "Insolent gnat!" he bellowed. "After the anguish you have caused me, I think that I am being extremely generous to leave ANY of your worthless kind alive. Now get to your work. I shall amuse myself until you are through." With that he turned his back, peevishly kicking apart a neighboring warehouse as he began to stride off.

Professor Norton stared in shocked horror, and then raised the megaphone and shouted "Wait!"

Havoc spun, tail smashing through an apartment building. "You DARE..."

"Please! Please...it will take time for me to get to my laboratory. I can begin working immediately if you take me there."

Havoc glowered and stepped closer. "I am not a steed, Wizard," he spat. "But if it will return me more quickly, then I will carry you." With that he reached a blood-smeared hand down and caught Professor Norton between two fingers. He lifted him off the roof and deposited him in the palm of his hand. "Where is this laboratory?"

Professor Norton sat dumbly in the dragon's hand, overwhelmed for a moment, until Havoc's teeth showed angrily and he clambered to his feet. "It's...there," he said ,pointing. "That building, with the spire."

The dragon strode forward, moving in a straight line. Professor Norton closed his eyes tightly and tried to shut out the sound of buildings being smashed, of helpless people being crushed to death under the dragon's feet as he marched toward the Institute. He could not stop it; that he knew. At least he could try to save as many lives as he could by ridding the world of the dragon. It could in no way atone for the guilt he suffered for having brought it here in the first place, but at least the destruction would end at last.

Havoc stopped in front of the Institute building, and lowered his hand, allowing Professor Norton to slide off onto the roof. "Now get to work," he growled. "You will give me a sign when you are through." Before Professor Norton could say anything, Havoc had turned again and thundered away.

The laboratory, thankfully, still had power. Professor Norton tore open the front of the console and began the task of rewiring. He tried to concentrate on the task at hand, without letting the overwhelming guilt and remorse cloud his mind. It was hard. The creature was here because of him, because of an experiment that had been forbidden, yet which he had undertaken anyway. He had falsified his reports so that none of his colleagues would know what he was researching. The knowledge, and the glory, were to be his, and his alone.

And now the responsibility for the deaths of thousands of innocent people was his alone. He completed his work through a blur of tears.

Struggling to the roof with the remote console, he hastily fumbled to insert the power cables. He could see the dragon's towering form in the distance, stooping and rising again to stuff something into its jaws. Sobbing, he connected the last of the wires to the rooftop spire-antenna, and then dashed downstairs to fetch a bottle of magnesium from the laboratory. He dumped its contents onto the roof and struck a match. The resulting blaze of light nearly blinded him. He staggered back, covering his eyes, unable to see but able to feel the crash of approaching footfalls.

The magnesium burned itself out, and slowly Professor Norton uncovered his eyes. Ahead of him he saw the armored scales of the dragon's belly. Slowly he looked upwards, then stifled a cry when he saw the beast peering down at him, its jaws crammed with living people, their limbs waving frantically from between the cage of its teeth. Dumbstruck, he watched as the dragon threw its head back. Its throat bulged and pulsed, and when it lowered its head again its mouth was empty. Professor Norton thought he could hear muffled screams coming from its belly.

Havoc licked his lips. "You are finished?"

Professor Norton fumbled for the megaphone, gagging at the horrible demonstration. "Yes," he stammered. "I'm ready."

"Good." The dragon glared down at him coldly. "Proceed."

Professor Norton shivered and set the megaphone down. He looked over the remote console a moment, and prayed that he had made the connections properly. Holding his breath, he keyed in the sequence, and then pressed the "enter" key. Below, in the lab, the converters begin to drone as they powered up. The sound grew louder, its pitch higher; the spire-antenna began to hum and glowed slightly, and Professor Norton prayed.

The sound that split the air when the machine's whine reached its peak was like a hundred lightning bolts crackling at once. Havoc closed his eyes as dizziness swirled within his head. It was the same feeling he'd felt before, the brief, near-loss of consciousness, the instant of silence, the sensation of falling. Only when the feeling had passed and the crackling had died away did he open them again. Confused, he looked all around him, at the smashed ruins of the city, at the billows of smoke, and then at the bewildered little human standing next to the smoking remains of his instrument. He scowled. "Do not toy with me, Wizard."

An angry roar from the sky drew his attention. Above him circled the female, as confused and outraged as he had himself been upon his arrival here. She caught sight of him below her and swooped, passing low overhead and then rising up high in a graceful climb. She roared again, and then trilled questioningly, looking about in bewilderment.

Havoc slowly lowered his gaze back down to the wide-eyed man on the building beside him, and drew his lips back into a pleasant smile. Before Professor Norton could move the dragon had snatched him up again in his fingers. "Thank you," Havoc said. He lifted the little man up to the top of the spire, put a finger on his back, and pressed his belly down firmly on the spire's point until he felt it poke at his fingertip. "Your services are no longer required." He turned away quickly and crouched, his tail crashing into the front portion of the building and crumpling it. The dust cloud had hardly settled when he was once again airborne, his powerful wings stirring a hurricane as he rose toward the waiting female.

The female hissed as he approached, still unnerved by the sudden change of scenery. Havoc cooed comfortingly as he approached her; as she relaxed, he twined his neck around hers, nuzzling at her ear. "Don't fret, my dear one," he whispered, "I think we are going to be very happy here."