In the flickering darkness of a wooden basement shone a few lamps, casting a dim glow around the room. Shadows danced on the walls, as if agitated by the events about to transpire. On a central table, the largest lantern shone its light on a single white horn pointed upwards.
The small white spire stood straight upright, almost attentively, like some stoic sentinel awaiting orders. It was already performing its assigned task, though. A thin, inky needle attached to the horn frantically swayed back and forth across an advancing sheet of paper. The needle traced a discernible pattern on the surface, following the tune of the horn’s imperceptible vibration.
A pair of reptilian green eyes followed the thin red line as it descended along with the cascade of paper, slowly pooling on the floor. The small purple dragon to whom they belonged stepped forward, staring closely at the horn. A tired chuckle escaped his lips, and he whispered:
“Gotcha.”
A distant and muffled moan of anguish echoed somewhere far above, snapping the dragon out of his fixation. She was crying again, or it might have been another nightmare. He’d have to go check on her.
He began heading up the stairs, but stopped after the first step. He turned away to hastily note something in a thick burgundy book before quietly rushing back upstairs.
Day 108
Found The Signal. Tracking is possible.