"She won't." Alan glances over the barrier approvingly. It's better than he could do. Pitchfork makes the sign against evil on her chest. "This is her territory. We need to get out of here, and to make sure she doesn't follow us."

The dragon snuffs, and cranes her long neck back. Heat ripples in the air that trails from her nostrils. Seconds later, fire blasts over the shield in a smothering arc. At her feet, the hatchlings yip and tustle over the meat of their sister, tiny sparks flying from their own mouths.

"How far away can you be, before this'll stop working?" A gesture to the barrier. "Can you get them out behind it?"

"He's too fuckin' heavy for me alone." Pitchfork chimes in, stooping to haul up their comrade once more. "C'mon, wake up, you dense git."