The last thing I thought I'd walk into was a baby dragon. Her scales were obsidian black, shining pretty under the moonlight. She had tiny, folded wings pressed tightly against her body, and a long tail wound around her protectively. But I couldn't see her eyes. It looked like she was asleep.
I had no idea whether it was safe to approach or not. In Chaos Divide, an MMORPG I was low-key addicted to, dragons were notoriously hostile, but this little one seemed pretty damn harmless. Maybe this was a trap? However, my pressing predicament urged me on: my grumbling stomach, my confusion, and a growing sense of dread at being alone in the desolate forest. Maybe the small dragon could help me in some way.
On second thought, I might be the one helping her….
As if sensing my proximity, her eyes opened up. I froze in place, not daring to move even a muscle. But that stare she was giving me, it wasn't hostile. In fact, it looked very vulnerable.
Her eyes were lightsaber green, contrasting with the black of her scales. They held a sense of innocence and fear, but I wasn't sure why. I wasn't a threat. I bet even with her small size, she could roast me with her dragon breath. But, I doubted she'd hurt me. I felt a strange connection with her at that moment, an empathetic bond that was odd considering the circumstances, feeling natural nevertheless.
"You're hurt, aren't you?" I finally said, realizing she was against moving.
But then I noticed something else popped up when I inspected her:
Condition: Critical
"Shit," I hissed under my breath. Being cautious, I crouched down and inspected her further. I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I drew close. Sure, she seemed friendly, but she was still a dragon. Again, I had to play it safe. Keeping to that mindset, I gently extended my hand towards her, palm down. Her eyes flickered over to my hand, then back up at my face, studying me intently. It felt like she was sizing me up, determining if I was a friend or foe.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, I finally mustered up the nerve to touch her. My fingers came into contact with her scales which were surprisingly smooth and warm. The baby dragon stiffened at my touch but made no move to pull away. She made a small noise, something between a whine and a whimper. It was soft enough that I nearly missed it.
I took that as permission to proceed.
It was then I noticed the leg she was favoring. There was a huge gash on it, the skin torn and raw, with large patches of dry blood in it. I gently ran my fingertips over the edges of the wound, careful not to hurt her further. She let out an agonized whimper and tried to pull her leg away, but I held it steady.
"Don't worry. I'm going to help you," I said softly, my heart lurching at the sight of her suffering.
I had no medical supplies on me, no potions or antidotes for a dragon's wound. But I did have my natural [Heal] ability.
I hovered my hand over her tear and tried to focus on the wound. I had never tried to use the [Heal] ability on a dragon before, or at all for that matter! But I was desperate. The dragon whimpered again at my touch, but this time there was a slight tremble of hope in her eyes. I held my breath and focused, trying to channel all my energy into her.
It was no good.
Nothing was happening, so I tried again. Quickly, I became impatient at the sight of her breaths becoming more distressed. Those long deep gasps were rattling my nerves and I needed to calm the hell down. So I thought about all of that meditation Larenzo nagged me to do, so I could learn to guide my inner qi to where I need it to be in the ring. Proper breathing led to more control—it was a reach, but to my surprise, it was working.
A soft gold glow pulsed from my palm, casting a gentle aura on her. The glow spread over her wound, bathing it in warm light. Her muscles tensed under my fingertips, and her tail coiled tighter around her small body as my healing light intensified, radiating a calm heat. I watched as the light from my hand seemed to seep into her scales, illuminating the individual plates in a soft gold hue before disappearing beneath them.
Her breaths started to slow down, becoming more rhythmical and less stressed. Encouraged, I kept up the steady stream of healing energy, until the raw edges of her wound began to close before my very eyes. The torn skin was knitting itself back together under my touch, the deep red of raw flesh giving way to healthier black scales.
I nearly tapered off by how shocked I was, losing my concentration, until I realized that it wasn't my concentration that was affecting my healing rate, but my skill's level.
"Crap, I think that's all the juice I'm allowed for level 1," I said to her. "But I imagine the more I use it, the longer and deeper I can heal." I smiled. "Either way, you look much better now. Your skin is still a bit raw, but at least the wound sealed up decently."
She made an effort to stand, faltering slightly before steadying herself. Her small head bobbed up and down, seeming to understand my statement. I watched as she tested her weight on the previously injured leg, wincing once before managing a tiny, triumphant growl that echoed in the quiet of our surroundings. It made her seem more intimidating, which was adorable.
I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I sat back on my heels. A weary smile stretched across my face as I watched her hobble around pretty confidently. "There you go," I praised.
She turned at the sound of my voice, tilting her head curiously. Her large, beautiful eyes met mine, filled with an intelligence that was interesting and fascinating at the same time. There was a glint of gratitude in them, or maybe I was just reading too much into it. I didn't talk dragon, even though I wished I could. All I could do was read the little gestures here and there and simply speculate. And then, she did something new, opening her maw slightly, releasing a puff of warm, smoky air.
Okay, now she was just showing off.
I chuckled, and then shook my head to everything that just happened. I'd just healed a baby dragon. I'd earned her trust enough to allow me to touch her, to help her. Maybe this was an opportunity for an alliance of sorts. With a dragon on my side, so many doors could open up.
I reached toward her again, my palm up and inviting. I introduced myself to her, giving the baby dragon my name. She regarded it curiously before taking a step closer. Her warm breath rolled across my skin as she nudged my hand with her snout, a soft glow flickering in her eyes.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. This little creature, formidable even in her young age, had accepted my help and now seemed to be offering something in return: companionship.
An understanding passed between us, unspoken but strong. I wouldn't hurt her, and she wouldn't hurt me. She drew her face closer to me, the palm of my hand brushing along the spikes of her spine. I swear I heard her purr as I petted her, until the purring turned into subtle growling.
That must have been her stomach.
"We should probably get you something to eat," I murmured, a sudden feeling of responsibility tugging at me. Since we were going to be traveling with each other now, I had to take care of her. But, what did baby dragons even eat? Sheep? Fish? Berries, perhaps?
"Well, now that I'm thinking about it, I should get something for myself, too," I said, rubbing my stomach as the hunger pains began to sink in. That was when my new dragon friend bolted, running deeper into the forest's path behind me.
She caught me off guard and I jumped to my feet. "Hey!" I shouted, taking off after her.
Shit, she was fast for a baby, faster than I expected. Her little legs worked like pistons, her paws pounding against the dirt barely audible as I chased as close as I could behind her. Her lithe body blurred with the speed, her tail swaying behind her like a flag.
I chased her through thick woods and undergrowth, winding around trees and leaping over fallen logs, but my luck was running dry fast. The further we went, the darker things got, the forest's foliage thicker and denser along the foreground.
Crap, it didn't help that her scales were black—she was blending in with everything.
At one point, I had to slow down. It didn't feel like I was on her trail anymore. Frantic, I wrapped my hands around my mouth and shouted out for her. She couldn't have gone far. I had no clue why she dashed off like that in the first place.
I began pacing myself, looking over my shoulder left and right, brushing past tall scrubs and snapping long twigs. The woods up ahead were quiet, where only crickets and the sound of trees swaying in the breeze captured my attention as I tried to focus on my surroundings. If I heard her, I could head toward her direction. But so far, there were no signs of her, not any that I could see at least from where I was standing.
And then, I heard it: a low, squeaky growl.
Dashing toward the sound, I walked into a small clearing obscured by thick vines. There she was, moving along with a pep in her happy step, with something large and brown hanging limply from her jaws.
It was a fawn.
She had hunted down a fawn. I stood there frozen as she dropped it to my feet, and then looked up to give me a toothy smile.
RIP Bambi….
For a second there, she looked like a pup that had just fetched me a stick.
"You got us dinner, huh?" I said proudly. "How considerate of you. But shit, you scared me. Don't dash off like that again, understood? I don't want you getting yourself hurt again."
She looked up to me with those oblivious joyful eyes, and I just had to shake my head at her.
"You have no idea what I'm saying, do you?" I said as I crouched down to her level. "I'm going to have to learn how to read your body language better, huh?"
She did not appear to understand what I was saying. Still, she bit into the fawn's flesh and began to chew. She nudged her head toward me, inviting me to join her feast. I swallowed hard, realizing that I would need to adapt to my new companion's diet if we were going to make this work.
"Guess it's fresh venison for dinner then." I said, my stomach churning at the thought of eating raw meat. But life in the woods was different, and I guess I had to see how far I could push myself. "I suppose there's a first time for everything."
But then I thought about her powers, the one that spewed out of her mouth, specifically. Hopeful, I looked around for pieces of twigs and chunkier pieces of wood, taking them all to a leafy pile as I created a primitive fire pit. Looking back at her, I hesitated before asking the question, unsure whether she would even understand me.
"Do you think you could... light this for me?" The words sounded foolish even as they left my mouth. She looked at me with a tilt of her head, then to the fire pit and back at me again. Her eyes blinked once, twice before she went back to vigorously eating that freshly killed fawn.
I pointed to the pile of wood, and then at her mouth, hoping she would understand my gesture. She tilted her head sideways again, a sign of curiosity on her young face, but did nothing else.
"Fire," I said, pointing again at the pile and then to her jaws. She continued to stare at me blankly.
She tugged at the tough piece of meat that slung back at her face like elastic, the chords of muscle suddenly making me queasy.
There was no way I could eat it like that….
Sighing in frustration, I picked up a stick from the ground and mimicked the action of breathing fire onto it. Then I pointed at the pile again. "Fire," I repeated.
This time something clicked. She dropped the fawn and moved closer to the pile, squinted her eyes, and let out a huge ass flame burp.
I jumped back, nearly tripping over my feet. I wasn't expecting it to have that much range, but before I knew it, the pile was ablaze. The flames roared to life, flickering and dancing before my very eyes.
The flame burp was sharp, loud, and huge, but it tapered off just as quickly as she started it. It was short, leading me to believe that her energy was still low, and that she was still recovering. The blaze towered over her, and she bounced up and down with joy. She sure looked proud of herself for understanding and being helpful.
"Thanks," I said, clapping my hands together to dust off the soot. "Now we have fire."
I picked up a thin stick nearby and skewered the fawn through the opening the baby dragon made when she was tearing it up, making sure it went through all the way to make it easier to roast. She kept her eyes on me the entire time as I prepared our meal, her head twitching at every new action I made. I wasn't sure if it was curiosity or confusion that prompted her gaze, but I decided to take it as a good sign. She seemed willing to learn.
"Your stomach and mine are built differently," I began. "While you can eat raw meat without suffering any sickening consequences, I can't. So, we cook it." I held the skewered fawn above the fire, planning on only eating the leg seeing as I didn't gut it. I didn't know about the baby dragon, but for me, this occasion was special, marking the first of our outback dining experience.
Slowly, I rotated the carcass over the fire, positioning it in such a way that the heat would cook it evenly. The smell of roasting meat filled the air quickly, her nose poking up and out at the scent of it. Clearly, this was a new experience for her. But she took everything in stride, flicking her tail back and forth and watching closely as the fawn started to brown.
"You know, this experience reminds me of a time when Dad and I went camping," I said. "Mom had to tackle an all-nighter at the hospital that weekend. The place was always short-staffed. We missed her company, but hell, Dad and I sure had our fun. We did this during the cold snap after a heavy rain, the kind of chill where your breath freezes midair. It took us hours to get that damn fire lit, but when we finally did, it felt like we'd climbed Mount Everest. We looked at each other with these huge grins on our faces, even though our hands and lips felt frostbitten."
I chuckled.
"Dad didn't want to bring too much for what he called the 'full effect'. That meant that we had to try that much harder to survive the few days we were out there. I remember our first night like it was yesterday. We were starving, so we went out to fish by the stream. It took us a while before we celebrated our first catch, but when we did, we had an unsuspected lurker around the corner. It was a goddamn bear. Big grizzly looking asshole, too. The first thing I did was trip over my own feet as I tried to buck it out of there." I snickered. "Dad had to drag me up by the scruff, and we ran like the devil was chasing after us. I don't think I'd ever run that fast in my life. Little did we know, that was the worst thing we could have done. And, of course, later that night, we laughed our asses off about it over a can of beans, because in our hair-raising attempt to save our asses, we dropped the damn fish."
I smirked, continuing to recollect my past.
"Even though part of our hiking adventure wasn't the best, we still had a blast. He taught me to fish, and we grilled our catch over the fire, ate s'mores, and told dumbass stories until the fire died out. It was an experience I'll never forget." My voice faded as memories of my late father washed over me.
The baby looked at me with a hint of concern or confusion. It was hard to tell which. But she sat quietly through my reminiscing, her tail curling around herself as if to stave off the cool night air.
"I guess what I'm saying is, life here isn't so different from that camping trip," I continued. "We had better ones after that, but we still scavenged, we ate, and we survived. I think he wanted to test our endurance out there, and even though it was risky as shit, we planned it every year after."
She watched me intensively, the light of the fire dancing in her large, glossy eyes. After a few minutes, I pulled the fawn off the fire and took a small piece from it with a stick. The meat was cooked enough to be safe but still red in the center. It was hot and juicy in my hand, but I managed to get it into my mouth without burning myself throughout our meal. Surprisingly, it tasted decent, for meat that had zero seasoning and all. Not Mom's cooking, but enough to carry me through the night.
"I believe we can take care of each other, too," I said to her, and surprisingly, she snuggled against my leg, propping her head on my thigh as she purred satisfyingly.
Heh, her belly must have been full.
I was just about done eating myself, when suddenly, my codex popped up:
Barros Guild
Accept Dracapod to your party?
[Y] [N]