The Igwulf yelped that word Again. What was it? Ark? It didn't matter. At the end of his tail was a small grey dragon, with a furious look on his face, uttering things, half to Evoc, half to himself. Evoc felt a smirk creep up on his face. Reaching down he picked up the tiny dragon, deciding which he should eat first, he teased the Igwulf, threatening to devour his dragon friend. Yet when he looked back he could have sworn he saw the Igwulf grinning. What could he possibly have to be happy about? He was about to be devoured! Confused he turned back towards the dragon, and felt his snout push up against something warm and wet. Looking forward he saw the soft pink flesh of the dragons maw stretching over his snout, clamping down. This dragon had guts, if nothing else.

A little comic I'm making in my new sketchbook, featuring the fearsome and voracious  evoc