Never.

Never was too long.

He was sick of this cave. Tired of this cave. Sick and tired of the small animals that he had to survive on; sick and tired of the chalky tasting water that flowed through the cavern.

Never was too long.

He could still feel the wind passing against his scales, smell the sweet perfume of vegetation. He'd taken all those trees for granted. What he would do to see one of their leaves, even.

Never was too long.

He desired freedom. The chance to go wherever he wanted, whenever he felt like it. No chains binding him to rock walls, no roof stopping him from going too high. Whenhe was released, the first thing he'd do was fly, fly half-way across the world to escape his prison.

Never was too long.

He'd waited for him to come for what seemed like an eternity. His saviour, who would help restore the land back to its old ways. Who would help restore his freedom.

Never was too long.

But now his saviour had turned into his enemy, had turned against him. What hope had he now? He was trapped, imprisoned for evermore. He would never be truely free now.

Never was too long.

And so, consumed with fury, he decided to do whatever he could, whatever the cost, to escape. He would risk the lives of everyone else, destroy those in his path. But to do this, he needed an ally. Someone who would help him achieve freedom. He needed someone with ties to the old religion, someone who was present in Camelot. His saviour fit the bill, but now his saviour would be the first to die. He reached out his thoughts, probing the walls of Camelot.

Never was too long.

He found someone. Cursing himself he didn't think of her before, he flapped his wings once, twice in delight. She would be almost better than the saviour, if he could persuade her fully. Yes, she must use her position to his advantage.

Never is too long to wait.

Filled with the thoughts of revenge, he bellowed her name.

And far above him, in a chamber of Camelot...

Morgana suddenly sat bolt upright, gasping for breath.