perhaps it was the shock of the entire cliffside cracking under the weight of his fury that keeps the dragon at a standstill. he doesn’t move the way he should, he doesn’t flee— he only watches the sound of fissuring rock grow louder and louder up the peak, following the lines until they release the stone sliding.
one slab breaks apart into many on the first impact they take, and it’s too late for the dragon to spread his wings and fly. it’s what he does, a tremendous wingspan that tripled his size. the rocks, of course, hit them, some sharp and tearing the membranes that kept him aloft in the air, other bludgeoning his bones. they’re all coming too fast and too have, with his legs losing footing and unable to help in preserving the ground under them that was once a surface. it gives away, and they fall.
the dragon cries out, taking most, of not the extreme bulk of damage without even meaning to. he hated this boy, but there was something that still bled in his heart, in his core, if he were to open his eyes and find him dead. it would mean everything was in vain, that the boy got what his brainwashed mind wanted, and what’s worse— got eren to do it for him.
and one quick look into the terror in his eyes showed full well what the dragon had suspected: he didn’t truly want to die. he couldn’t suffer another blow like this to his pride, and his honor that still lives. he couldn’t.
the dragon reaches out with his tattered wing hook and wraps it over whatever he could see of the boy, pulling his wing to his chest— and from there, he can’t remember the rest. a boulder hits his skull, the protective plates from his horns too underdeveloped to give him strong enough protection to stay awake. once they hit the ground and dust disperses—
the dragon is half covered in stone, hurt and passed out in a pile of debris. at least the boy was safer than he was.
[It all happened so fast. One moment he was preparing for his own death. He wasn't about to survive an avalanche or this fall, not with wings that he didn't know how to use. He was terrified, and deep down he didn't want to die, but this was the only choice he had wasn't it? A quick death now instead of a slow brutal one later.
But then, he's denied that as the dragon grabs him with his wing and shields him from the debris, even while taking most of the hits himself.]
W-What're you-
[He is confused and surprised by the move. Why? Why was this dragon saving him? He already destroyed everything meager thing the boy had in his life, had insured he'd die no matter what - why did he insist on saving him?! On keeping him alive?! Was this some twisted torture game?
It's not like the dragon could answer though. Since as they land on the ground, it's very clear that the dragon has passed out even with him still wrapped up in the wing. The boy has another fit of coughing from the dust that the avalanche kicked up, but for the most part, he's okay besides damaged wings.]
This day keeps getting worse and worse...
[With nothing else to do, he starts climbing and wiggling out of that wing hold he was in, moving slowly until he finally pries himself free. Stumbling out onto the ground, he glances back to see yep- that sure is a unconscious and half covered dragon. It looked like it was still breathing...which, he wasn't sure how to feel about that. There's a moment where he feels bad, before he reminds himself that this dragon brought this on himself.]
Not that he'd ever admit it, toddlers are more mature. [He mutters to himself with a huff. He looks away from the dragon, trying to get an idea of where they landed. It looked like the start of the forest, at the foot of the mountains. He was more familiar with the part of the forest that laid close to his village, but...
Just as he started wondering what he was supposed to do? His wrist starts erupts into a sharp burning pain. He winces, making a surprised pain sound. He looks at his wrist, and stares wide eye as a tattoo starts to form ]
[ pebbles and smaller debris roll and creak from their place as the dragon breathes. it’s shallow, the larger stones weigh down on his chest and certainly makes it harder to inflate his lungs the way he needed to.
for now, his breaths are short, silent and uneven. his jaws remain slightly agape and his tongue rolls out lifelessly, hanging between his teeth and— lo and behold, if the boy were to look . . . the same mark burns into the middle of his pointed tongue.
the dragon’s left wing if folded, injured but doable. now his right . . . his right was in an unnatural angle, a stone crushing it against more debris. he doesn’t know what’s going on, and the first thing to show signs of movement is his third eyelid, sliding open and revealing to eren a world that refuses to stand still.
he only groans, and for now stays still, half-conscious and only afterwards beginning to stir under the mess he’s caught in. he might’ve . . . seen the boy? upside down? his head hurts and he can’t feel his claws.
you know, a part of him even has to ask himself again: just what did you think you were doing?
maybe he needed to dream, but he fights his body’s growing urge to slip away, regardless. he grunts, and his claws twitch— but soon enough he’s out like a light again. (the tongue, though, keeps moving around more. it burns). ]
[The boy had been staring in growing horror at the mark forming on his wrist. He knew exactly what kind of mark it is: a soulmate mark. He remembered his parents' mark clearly, the only couple with marks in the whole village. His mother had explained to him with such warmth and happiness. And the day she was sacrificed, his father's had burned his skin and rendered his arm useless.
But why...why was it showing up now? Of all places, with all things?
When the dragon moves, the boy's attention immediately goes to it- wondering if the foul beast would wake. And while he's looking he catches sight of his tongue- a tongue that now had the same mark that was growing on his wrist.]
What? What...curse is this?
[His soulmate was this wretched dragon? This monster? This...this was even worse than never finding your soulmate.
He's tempted to yell at the dragon more, to demand what draconic magic he's cast on him to cause this- but the dragon yet again passes out again. it only really registers then that the dragon is badly hurt from the fall.
A few moments ago, he might've been tempted to leave the dragon to succumb to his wounds, but...he glances at the mark on his wrist. If this was a true soulmate mark, then the dragon dying would probably cost him his hand. Which would only make his chances of finding a quick way to die even worse.
...Ugh.
He hates this, but he takes a deep breath and approaches the dragon. Reaching out, he'll put his hand on the scales of the dragon. Concentrating what magic he had, he starts singing- though weakly since his voice was still hoarse.
As he sings, there's a glowing light, and slowly, the magic starts to take effect. The dragon's injuries start to heal up, slowly but surely. Likely he doesn't have enough power to heal an entire dragon in one go, but it was a start. ]
[ it might take a while for the dragon to wake up again. at most there’re are only drowsy grumbles, occasionally batting away at the boy he only say as a blurry shadow before falling still once more. any touches he does feel in and out of conscious earns growls. lips lift to show what he can of his fangs, his curled wing folding even closer to his belly. that’s all the energy he has.
there was something he’d keep dreaming about. some other dragon-like beast, defeating the heedless until he could no longer use his tattered wings or walk on his broken bones and shattered horns. he could hardly move. he was bleeding, but there was always a little bundle of something tucked away under his wing. he couldn’t move, but his heart pounded like a warrior’s, with resolve to live and fight for the bundle like he would his very own freedom.
the little bundle was his freedom.
the mark speaks to eren, but he doesn’t know what it means. in all honesty, the next time he opens his eyes— he hardly remembers what it was that he dreamt of. he just— aches, his wing aches. the headache and superficial bruises underneath scales that took more bludgeoning damage are healed. he was. he was strong enough to take it, obviously (he’s still mildly flabbergasted that he did). the first thing that comes to mind, though, in a jolt, is to look under the left, curled wing.
he dreamed there was something . . . important . . . there. ]
[ when scents begin to prickle at his snout and awaken him further, he realizes. the boy. the dumb, stupid boy wasn’t under there, and when he shifts to stand in a small rush—
he cries out terribly, snapping his neck back to the perpetrator: boulders crushing his right wing into that grotesque angle, and in the shock . . . reacting like any trapped, oversized animal would.
it’s not a good idea, all this moving around and screaming. but he’s trapped, his tongue burns (nothing ever burns on him, he doesn’t even know the feeling other than this is really weird and uncomfortable), he feels like he’s lost something still riding out the emotions of a dream, and he’s alone, or so he thinks.
[The boy had been taking a break when the dragon started to stir. Healing a dragon was no easy task, especially when the creature was already pinned under rocks he was too small to move.
This...this was not a good situation to be in, every way the boy looked at it, it was bad. Just what did he do to deserve all this?
But before he can get too deep into his despairing thoughts, the dragon starts freaking out. Great. this again.
the boy quickly stands up and tries to approach him. ]
H-Hey, calm down! You'll bring the mountain down on us again!
[ if anything, the streaking pain up the finer bones of his wing is what makes him stop and heave his breaths. the boy comes in at close second. it hurts, so much, that he hangs his head, eyes wide and too hyped up on adrenaline to show any other emotion. ]
What’re you— still doing here?
[ if he had found a way out from under him, he should’ve . . . been on his way. he should’ve been left alone out here, he would’ve done much better.
(his heart beats so hard against his chest though, that he feels it twist into his belly with nerves. there was something about the boy’s presence that kept him on edge. the dream kept him on edge— that’s right. not this boy). ]
[Well, at least that makes him stop. He breathes a sigh of relief. Good. Not another avalanche crashing down on them. The boy could live with that.
And at that question...he hesitates. He could say the truth, about the mark on his wrist- but that might be dangerous information to reveal at this moment.
Instead, he goes for another truth]
I-I told you, you destroyed the only town in this whole region. If I went by myself, I'd die before I reached the next town. By lack of supplies or by some monster eating me. [he glances off to the side] Rather unpleasant way to go.
[ okay— alright, fine. an earlier, raging dragon would’ve talked back to him right at that instant, but. his wing is broken, it’s broken and trying to move earlier has made him feel sick to his stomach. the world’s spinning again and he’s unintentionally hyper focused. he needs to find a way to . . .
between panting and the select sound of whimpering between his teeth, the dragon lifts his head to scrape his horns under the larger stone. it takes a few tries, but soon enough hooking under it to throw it off is a success. it rolls away, but.
he won’t be flying for a really long time. what’s worse, he needs to put it back in place before it sticks that way. just. give himself a minute. to breathe, to recollect, and to realize what he’s talking about. speaking of dying out there— well, sure, there were land dragons who survived, and the dragon himself survived the ground when he was young . . .
he’ll have to go on foot, but keep his attention tripled. a lot of things take advantage of the injured and weakened. ]
You have a stick. [ that long thing he carried around with him up there. he uses “stick” for lack of better wording, but it seemed intricate. ] For someone who wanted to die by monster, [ if dragon’s could shrug, he would, but he ends up simply ruffling his good wing and laying down to rest in a way where he turns his neck away from him. disinterest.
he doesn’t care.
he does keep knocking his teeth together, making clattering noises, his tongue only now feeling normal. ]
[He watches the dragon struggle with the stones. Even if he was inclined, there's little a human could do to help him out, with each of these rocks being nearly his own size if not bigger. He had no choice but to watch.]
A staff. My mother's. [He corrects, knowing the dragon won't care. But notably, he doesn't have it with him anymore] It...probably got crushed in the avalanche.
[He swallows, trying not to make it show how much that thought upsets him. This dragon doesn't care. This is a monster that cares nothing but about himself.]
I want to die quickly, and only because I don't have a choice. [He gives an annoyed click of the tongue] It's easy for you to say "survive" when you're a dragon. The only threat to you is yourself, from the looks of it.
[He gives a pointed look at the avalanche remains. Yeah. You brought this on yourself mister]
There's no way a human could make it to the next region all alone. And even if I did by some miracle? I'd probably get stoned to death for causing the death of my village.
No matter what I do, I'm gonna die. And since you caused this mess, I want you to take some responsibility for it.
[ why, the dragon starts thinking as he rolls his head into the inside of his wing in a groan, much like how one would hold their temples. why does he complain so much.
it takes, in turn, another lengthy pause for the dragon to start back at him. ]
They brought it upon themselves. [ that’s it, that’s the answer. ] You did, too. The minute you went with their plan.
[ he’s still plenty bitter about that, and the fact that it actually sours him up to such a degree he has to question himself again as to why he actually cared so much. he finds his answer in it’s not about humans, but his reasoning is ever drastic anyway. ]
— Can you make up your mind? Do you want to live or die?
[I don't know dragon maybe you destroying his home had something to do with it.]
I had to. [he says coldly in defense of himself. No, he hadn't been happy about the elders' plan. But there'd been no choice] And maybe if you had stopped after the elders who made that choice, I'd be willing to think you had a point. But you didn't. No one can learn their lesson if they're all dead.
[No one will know what destroyed the village as no one got out alive. At most, when word catches up to the other villages far away, they'll just think it's a mad rampaging dragon. Nothing more.
He pauses for a moment, glancing away.]
Of course I want to live. But I don't have a way to.
[ as far as the dragon was concerned, he burned the elders, the mills where slavery was born, and . . . maybe a few extra houses out of his own raging spite.
but that’s not the point. ]
You shouldn’t be different from me if that’s really what you want. [ of course there are ways! it’s as obvious as fighting for your life! that’s always. how it is. the dragon then, with a hiss, turns his attention to his twisted wing. he had to fix that— and so he will.
finishing with any necessary steeling, the dragon stretches the broken wing out as much as he can, the longest webbed finger pointing up instead of down. shit, this is. going to hurt.
after a few trembling breaths, he does the only thing he can to help himself: ram the flattened space of his skull and horns down against it, and snapping it back into place. it’s still ugly, and swollen and it leaves him screaming painfully, sharper than any scream he’s given.
if dragon’s could cry, he would cry, and now only lays his head down against the ground and blinks, a lot. ]
. . . I’ll take you to wherever it is you want to go. As long as you fight to live.
[ he just sounds mildly tired now, and— in agreement that maybe he should do something to put this boy on the right path. ]
[-Easy for you to say, he's about to say. But then the dragon goes and does that to his wing. Not only is it disturbing to see, but the scream hurts his ears enough to wince. Even if it was a dragon, it was very clear that it was a scream of pain.
Compulsively, he moves back over to the dragon, kneeling down near his head. He reaches out and puts his hands on his skin. The wrist tattoo is now very visible on his skin, even if he's not thinking about it. ]
Shh...easy now.
[He'll start singing quietly, and yet again, the glowing begins and wounds start to mend. At the very least, it'll take an edge off the pain. ]
[He keeps the singing up for awhile, trying his best to heal as much as he can. This spell really wasn't made for something dragon sized, but it doesn't seem to stop him.
Finally when he's done, when he can't keep the spell going anymore, he'll stop the singing and lower his hands away, back in his lap.
He's quiet for a pause, and the silence hangs heavy between them. Was he going to explain why he did that? No...probably not. Instead, he'll try to respond to what the dragon said before.]
...Even if that was what I wanted, I can't be like you. Humans can't do most of the things dragons can do. We're much more...fragile.
[To put it lightly. Dragons were much more powerful than a human could ever hope to be. That's why human villages were so quick to bow to their will, most humans had no chance facing off against one.
And that offer...was that a real offer? He pauses, and admits feebly]
I'm...not sure where I'd go. I've never been outside this region.
[He didn't know the rest of the world. There was no one waiting for him anywhere]
[ hi fantasy operator yeah i’d like to ask what the fuck is happening, there is a smol bean healing me.
the dragon does as any beast in pain does. when the boy approaches, he lifts his lip, narrows his eyes and growls. he’s hurt and it’s instinct— don’t do anything to me. fear, can you believe that? even if he’d never admit it. when he becomes so bold as to touch him, it escalates into a sharp snarl, maintains the growl, but— he doesn’t move, he simply thinks it’s enough to get him to back off. until the boy sings.
when he sings, and his wing feels warm, the pain seeming to slip off his scales like water. it’s still there, but . . . why he was no longer so hurt when he woke up makes sense now. and he doesn’t know how to feel about that.
the dragon only remains there, wide eyed and just as confused as he’ll ever be. green-blue eyes go to the boy, observes him, then to their surroundings (it’s best to never let your guard down), then back to the boy. he sees the mark, uncertain of what it means— and when it’s all over, he doesn’t know where to begin, lifting his head to check the damaged wing. it’s not fit for flying, and it most definitely will need to be saved if they walk, but. it hurts far less.
how does he. what does he say now. ]
None of you would’ve survived if you were so fragile. [ even though he thought, well, they were plenty squishy, too much for his taste. alas, there’s a reason why they still managed to stick around. ]
[The growling doesn't do much to deter him. It's not different from the animals he's had to treat back in the village. And honestly after he's seen this guy destroy a village and cause an avalanche? This seems...quaint.]
You were in pain.
[That's it, that's his answer. He wasn't so cold he'd leave something to suffer, even if the temptation was there.]
the dragon . . . doesn’t say anything. he feels like a better answer to hear would be. mm.
something selfish. it’s easier to react, that way, but right now he’s just sort of. stuck. in a limbo where he doesn’t, and can’t, find it in him to say “thank you” or something more human.
because it doesn’t come naturally, not even in thoughts, but he does have a feeling that something’s missing. why the silence?
[that sure is an awkward silence. The dragon even looks like the trig lady meme, if the boy knew what a meme was. Still, he catches how perplexed this creature looks.
Yeah, he supposes thinking of others would confuse him]
A little, but you're in worst state than me.
[ ...
While it had been tempting to keep it from him, if this guy was serious about helping him somewhere]
You should know, I think a bonding mark formed on us while you were passed out. Ever heard of those? Yours is on your tongue.
. . . A what? [ not that he doesn’t know . . . exactly what it was, but you never know it actually is a mark until the other half bears the same. the dragon can’t see a single thing on his when he twists and turns his neck to all angles. his tongue flicks out, but he can’t see it, and irritably shakes his head.
the story hops from dragon to dragon like sieges and conquerors, even if he’s lived most of his life alone.
it was as much of a fable as the existence of dwarverns. dragons that never grow, and are given fake dragon names: wyverns. ]
Those don’t exist. You’ve been branded, that’s all.
[THIS DRAGON....as he watches this guy and he can't help but act a little miffed at his response. ]
I have not and they do exist! I saw it appear on my wrist!
[Huff! He stands up, conjuring a spell that makes a magic mirror appear. It points so that if the dragon opens his mouth, it should be able to see its tongue.]
[ you’re not. giving him option and this even leaves him equally miffed, but— the dragon pulls his neck up to get a look at the boy’s wrist, huffs through his nostrils, then lets his narrowed eyes wander to the mirror and back.
he’s stubborn, to be proven wrong, and the small claws of his good wing scrape against earth and stone. honestly, he is a big, brash brat with too much to learn and not so much patience to learn it.
he gives in after moment to sneer, glancing at the details in his reflection. he hasn’t seen himself much, only for water and he doesn’t stop nearly as much as a mammal for that. he’s. growing into a fine dragon, looks like.
but, fine!! his tongue. spreading his jaws— it doesn’t take long for them to snap right again, with the dragon’s hiss between his teeth. he doesn’t know what to say at first, and opens up one more time . . .
what does this even mean, that— ]
I don’t belong to anyone. [ he refuses to believe that’s it. his heart pounds in his head enough that he can feel the pulse in his horns, eyes growing distant and shaking his head. ] I’m no one’s—
[ he hisses out a laugh, but. it’s one of disbelief. his lips don’t curl in the slightest. ]
[Yeah well you didn't really give him a choice in whether to kill all of those villagers so you know, it's pretty fair you don't get a choice in the mirror.
Other than amazement of how long he resist looking in a mirror, and watching the dragon almost seem huffy over the aspect of doing so-- his reaction doesn't really surprise him. Yeah, who wouldn't be stunned at a twist like this. He sure was]
Yeah, I know.
I have no idea how this happened to us. I always thought it was some romantic thing, so it makes even less sense.
But I do know, that if these are real bond marks, then if one of us dies? The other will lose the body part the mark is on. Which means for you... [Well, you'd lose your tongue. Kinda sucks doesn't it]
[ it’s almost laughable for a dragon to even think about anything romantic with this. human. slave. bird. whatever! but the sound the dragon makes seems repulsed. ]
How do you know these are real?
[ he’s so brash at asking that it almost sounds like he’s demanding a coherent answer from him, but with a irritable hiss that sounds more like an ahhhh as he whips his head back and forth. guh. guh!!!!! ]
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no subject
perhaps it was the shock of the entire cliffside cracking under the weight of his fury that keeps the dragon at a standstill. he doesn’t move the way he should, he doesn’t flee— he only watches the sound of fissuring rock grow louder and louder up the peak, following the lines until they release the stone sliding.
one slab breaks apart into many on the first impact they take, and it’s too late for the dragon to spread his wings and fly. it’s what he does, a tremendous wingspan that tripled his size. the rocks, of course, hit them, some sharp and tearing the membranes that kept him aloft in the air, other bludgeoning his bones. they’re all coming too fast and too have, with his legs losing footing and unable to help in preserving the ground under them that was once a surface. it gives away, and they fall.
the dragon cries out, taking most, of not the extreme bulk of damage without even meaning to. he hated this boy, but there was something that still bled in his heart, in his core, if he were to open his eyes and find him dead. it would mean everything was in vain, that the boy got what his brainwashed mind wanted, and what’s worse— got eren to do it for him.
and one quick look into the terror in his eyes showed full well what the dragon had suspected: he didn’t truly want to die. he couldn’t suffer another blow like this to his pride, and his honor that still lives. he couldn’t.
the dragon reaches out with his tattered wing hook and wraps it over whatever he could see of the boy, pulling his wing to his chest— and from there, he can’t remember the rest. a boulder hits his skull, the protective plates from his horns too underdeveloped to give him strong enough protection to stay awake. once they hit the ground and dust disperses—
the dragon is half covered in stone, hurt and passed out in a pile of debris. at least the boy was safer than he was.
has he mentioned? he hated this boy. ]
no subject
But then, he's denied that as the dragon grabs him with his wing and shields him from the debris, even while taking most of the hits himself.]
W-What're you-
[He is confused and surprised by the move. Why? Why was this dragon saving him? He already destroyed everything meager thing the boy had in his life, had insured he'd die no matter what - why did he insist on saving him?! On keeping him alive?! Was this some twisted torture game?
It's not like the dragon could answer though. Since as they land on the ground, it's very clear that the dragon has passed out even with him still wrapped up in the wing. The boy has another fit of coughing from the dust that the avalanche kicked up, but for the most part, he's okay besides damaged wings.]
This day keeps getting worse and worse...
[With nothing else to do, he starts climbing and wiggling out of that wing hold he was in, moving slowly until he finally pries himself free. Stumbling out onto the ground, he glances back to see yep- that sure is a unconscious and half covered dragon. It looked like it was still breathing...which, he wasn't sure how to feel about that. There's a moment where he feels bad, before he reminds himself that this dragon brought this on himself.]
Not that he'd ever admit it, toddlers are more mature. [He mutters to himself with a huff. He looks away from the dragon, trying to get an idea of where they landed. It looked like the start of the forest, at the foot of the mountains. He was more familiar with the part of the forest that laid close to his village, but...
Just as he started wondering what he was supposed to do? His wrist starts erupts into a sharp burning pain. He winces, making a surprised pain sound. He looks at his wrist, and stares wide eye as a tattoo starts to form ]
- W-What?
[Is this...? No way. No flipping way]
no subject
for now, his breaths are short, silent and uneven. his jaws remain slightly agape and his tongue rolls out lifelessly, hanging between his teeth and— lo and behold, if the boy were to look . . . the same mark burns into the middle of his pointed tongue.
the dragon’s left wing if folded, injured but doable. now his right . . . his right was in an unnatural angle, a stone crushing it against more debris. he doesn’t know what’s going on, and the first thing to show signs of movement is his third eyelid, sliding open and revealing to eren a world that refuses to stand still.
he only groans, and for now stays still, half-conscious and only afterwards beginning to stir under the mess he’s caught in. he might’ve . . . seen the boy? upside down? his head hurts and he can’t feel his claws.
you know, a part of him even has to ask himself again: just what did you think you were doing?
maybe he needed to dream, but he fights his body’s growing urge to slip away, regardless. he grunts, and his claws twitch— but soon enough he’s out like a light again. (the tongue, though, keeps moving around more. it burns). ]
no subject
But why...why was it showing up now? Of all places, with all things?
When the dragon moves, the boy's attention immediately goes to it- wondering if the foul beast would wake. And while he's looking he catches sight of his tongue- a tongue that now had the same mark that was growing on his wrist.]
What? What...curse is this?
[His soulmate was this wretched dragon? This monster? This...this was even worse than never finding your soulmate.
He's tempted to yell at the dragon more, to demand what draconic magic he's cast on him to cause this- but the dragon yet again passes out again. it only really registers then that the dragon is badly hurt from the fall.
A few moments ago, he might've been tempted to leave the dragon to succumb to his wounds, but...he glances at the mark on his wrist. If this was a true soulmate mark, then the dragon dying would probably cost him his hand. Which would only make his chances of finding a quick way to die even worse.
...Ugh.
He hates this, but he takes a deep breath and approaches the dragon. Reaching out, he'll put his hand on the scales of the dragon. Concentrating what magic he had, he starts singing- though weakly since his voice was still hoarse.
As he sings, there's a glowing light, and slowly, the magic starts to take effect. The dragon's injuries start to heal up, slowly but surely. Likely he doesn't have enough power to heal an entire dragon in one go, but it was a start. ]
(1/2)
there was something he’d keep dreaming about. some other dragon-like beast, defeating the heedless until he could no longer use his tattered wings or walk on his broken bones and shattered horns. he could hardly move. he was bleeding, but there was always a little bundle of something tucked away under his wing. he couldn’t move, but his heart pounded like a warrior’s, with resolve to live and fight for the bundle like he would his very own freedom.
the little bundle was his freedom.
the mark speaks to eren, but he doesn’t know what it means. in all honesty, the next time he opens his eyes— he hardly remembers what it was that he dreamt of. he just— aches, his wing aches. the headache and superficial bruises underneath scales that took more bludgeoning damage are healed. he was. he was strong enough to take it, obviously (he’s still mildly flabbergasted that he did). the first thing that comes to mind, though, in a jolt, is to look under the left, curled wing.
he dreamed there was something . . . important . . . there. ]
(2/2)
he cries out terribly, snapping his neck back to the perpetrator: boulders crushing his right wing into that grotesque angle, and in the shock . . . reacting like any trapped, oversized animal would.
it’s not a good idea, all this moving around and screaming. but he’s trapped, his tongue burns (nothing ever burns on him, he doesn’t even know the feeling other than this is really weird and uncomfortable), he feels like he’s lost something still riding out the emotions of a dream, and he’s alone, or so he thinks.
he’s freaking out. ]
no subject
This...this was not a good situation to be in, every way the boy looked at it, it was bad. Just what did he do to deserve all this?
But before he can get too deep into his despairing thoughts, the dragon starts freaking out. Great. this again.
the boy quickly stands up and tries to approach him. ]
H-Hey, calm down! You'll bring the mountain down on us again!
no subject
What’re you— still doing here?
[ if he had found a way out from under him, he should’ve . . . been on his way. he should’ve been left alone out here, he would’ve done much better.
(his heart beats so hard against his chest though, that he feels it twist into his belly with nerves. there was something about the boy’s presence that kept him on edge. the dream kept him on edge— that’s right. not this boy). ]
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And at that question...he hesitates. He could say the truth, about the mark on his wrist- but that might be dangerous information to reveal at this moment.
Instead, he goes for another truth]
I-I told you, you destroyed the only town in this whole region. If I went by myself, I'd die before I reached the next town. By lack of supplies or by some monster eating me. [he glances off to the side] Rather unpleasant way to go.
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between panting and the select sound of whimpering between his teeth, the dragon lifts his head to scrape his horns under the larger stone. it takes a few tries, but soon enough hooking under it to throw it off is a success. it rolls away, but.
he won’t be flying for a really long time. what’s worse, he needs to put it back in place before it sticks that way. just. give himself a minute. to breathe, to recollect, and to realize what he’s talking about. speaking of dying out there— well, sure, there were land dragons who survived, and the dragon himself survived the ground when he was young . . .
he’ll have to go on foot, but keep his attention tripled. a lot of things take advantage of the injured and weakened. ]
You have a stick. [ that long thing he carried around with him up there. he uses “stick” for lack of better wording, but it seemed intricate. ] For someone who wanted to die by monster, [ if dragon’s could shrug, he would, but he ends up simply ruffling his good wing and laying down to rest in a way where he turns his neck away from him. disinterest.
he doesn’t care.
he does keep knocking his teeth together, making clattering noises, his tongue only now feeling normal. ]
Survive.
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A staff. My mother's. [He corrects, knowing the dragon won't care. But notably, he doesn't have it with him anymore] It...probably got crushed in the avalanche.
[He swallows, trying not to make it show how much that thought upsets him. This dragon doesn't care. This is a monster that cares nothing but about himself.]
I want to die quickly, and only because I don't have a choice. [He gives an annoyed click of the tongue] It's easy for you to say "survive" when you're a dragon. The only threat to you is yourself, from the looks of it.
[He gives a pointed look at the avalanche remains. Yeah. You brought this on yourself mister]
There's no way a human could make it to the next region all alone. And even if I did by some miracle? I'd probably get stoned to death for causing the death of my village.
No matter what I do, I'm gonna die. And since you caused this mess, I want you to take some responsibility for it.
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it takes, in turn, another lengthy pause for the dragon to start back at him. ]
They brought it upon themselves. [ that’s it, that’s the answer. ] You did, too. The minute you went with their plan.
[ he’s still plenty bitter about that, and the fact that it actually sours him up to such a degree he has to question himself again as to why he actually cared so much. he finds his answer in it’s not about humans, but his reasoning is ever drastic anyway. ]
— Can you make up your mind? Do you want to live or die?
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I had to. [he says coldly in defense of himself. No, he hadn't been happy about the elders' plan. But there'd been no choice] And maybe if you had stopped after the elders who made that choice, I'd be willing to think you had a point. But you didn't. No one can learn their lesson if they're all dead.
[No one will know what destroyed the village as no one got out alive. At most, when word catches up to the other villages far away, they'll just think it's a mad rampaging dragon. Nothing more.
He pauses for a moment, glancing away.]
Of course I want to live. But I don't have a way to.
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but that’s not the point. ]
You shouldn’t be different from me if that’s really what you want. [ of course there are ways! it’s as obvious as fighting for your life! that’s always. how it is. the dragon then, with a hiss, turns his attention to his twisted wing. he had to fix that— and so he will.
finishing with any necessary steeling, the dragon stretches the broken wing out as much as he can, the longest webbed finger pointing up instead of down. shit, this is. going to hurt.
after a few trembling breaths, he does the only thing he can to help himself: ram the flattened space of his skull and horns down against it, and snapping it back into place. it’s still ugly, and swollen and it leaves him screaming painfully, sharper than any scream he’s given.
if dragon’s could cry, he would cry, and now only lays his head down against the ground and blinks, a lot. ]
. . . I’ll take you to wherever it is you want to go. As long as you fight to live.
[ he just sounds mildly tired now, and— in agreement that maybe he should do something to put this boy on the right path. ]
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[-Easy for you to say, he's about to say. But then the dragon goes and does that to his wing. Not only is it disturbing to see, but the scream hurts his ears enough to wince. Even if it was a dragon, it was very clear that it was a scream of pain.
Compulsively, he moves back over to the dragon, kneeling down near his head. He reaches out and puts his hands on his skin. The wrist tattoo is now very visible on his skin, even if he's not thinking about it. ]
Shh...easy now.
[He'll start singing quietly, and yet again, the glowing begins and wounds start to mend. At the very least, it'll take an edge off the pain. ]
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Finally when he's done, when he can't keep the spell going anymore, he'll stop the singing and lower his hands away, back in his lap.
He's quiet for a pause, and the silence hangs heavy between them. Was he going to explain why he did that? No...probably not. Instead, he'll try to respond to what the dragon said before.]
...Even if that was what I wanted, I can't be like you. Humans can't do most of the things dragons can do. We're much more...fragile.
[To put it lightly. Dragons were much more powerful than a human could ever hope to be. That's why human villages were so quick to bow to their will, most humans had no chance facing off against one.
And that offer...was that a real offer? He pauses, and admits feebly]
I'm...not sure where I'd go. I've never been outside this region.
[He didn't know the rest of the world. There was no one waiting for him anywhere]
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the dragon does as any beast in pain does. when the boy approaches, he lifts his lip, narrows his eyes and growls. he’s hurt and it’s instinct— don’t do anything to me. fear, can you believe that? even if he’d never admit it. when he becomes so bold as to touch him, it escalates into a sharp snarl, maintains the growl, but— he doesn’t move, he simply thinks it’s enough to get him to back off. until the boy sings.
when he sings, and his wing feels warm, the pain seeming to slip off his scales like water. it’s still there, but . . . why he was no longer so hurt when he woke up makes sense now. and he doesn’t know how to feel about that.
the dragon only remains there, wide eyed and just as confused as he’ll ever be. green-blue eyes go to the boy, observes him, then to their surroundings (it’s best to never let your guard down), then back to the boy. he sees the mark, uncertain of what it means— and when it’s all over, he doesn’t know where to begin, lifting his head to check the damaged wing. it’s not fit for flying, and it most definitely will need to be saved if they walk, but. it hurts far less.
how does he. what does he say now. ]
None of you would’ve survived if you were so fragile. [ even though he thought, well, they were plenty squishy, too much for his taste. alas, there’s a reason why they still managed to stick around. ]
What’d you do that for?
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You were in pain.
[That's it, that's his answer. He wasn't so cold he'd leave something to suffer, even if the temptation was there.]
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the dragon . . . doesn’t say anything. he feels like a better answer to hear would be. mm.
something selfish. it’s easier to react, that way, but right now he’s just sort of. stuck. in a limbo where he doesn’t, and can’t, find it in him to say “thank you” or something more human.
because it doesn’t come naturally, not even in thoughts, but he does have a feeling that something’s missing. why the silence?
(it’s called being awkward but w/e) ]
Aren’t you?
[ why didn’t he just. you know. heal himself. ]
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Yeah, he supposes thinking of others would confuse him]
A little, but you're in worst state than me.
[ ...
While it had been tempting to keep it from him, if this guy was serious about helping him somewhere]
You should know, I think a bonding mark formed on us while you were passed out. Ever heard of those? Yours is on your tongue.
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spongegar emote ]
. . . A what? [ not that he doesn’t know . . . exactly what it was, but you never know it actually is a mark until the other half bears the same. the dragon can’t see a single thing on his when he twists and turns his neck to all angles. his tongue flicks out, but he can’t see it, and irritably shakes his head.
the story hops from dragon to dragon like sieges and conquerors, even if he’s lived most of his life alone.
it was as much of a fable as the existence of dwarverns. dragons that never grow, and are given fake dragon names: wyverns. ]
Those don’t exist. You’ve been branded, that’s all.
[ by some. slave master.
that’s right. ]
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I have not and they do exist! I saw it appear on my wrist!
[Huff! He stands up, conjuring a spell that makes a magic mirror appear. It points so that if the dragon opens his mouth, it should be able to see its tongue.]
See?
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he’s stubborn, to be proven wrong, and the small claws of his good wing scrape against earth and stone. honestly, he is a big, brash brat with too much to learn and not so much patience to learn it.
he gives in after moment to sneer, glancing at the details in his reflection. he hasn’t seen himself much, only for water and he doesn’t stop nearly as much as a mammal for that. he’s. growing into a fine dragon, looks like.
but, fine!! his tongue. spreading his jaws— it doesn’t take long for them to snap right again, with the dragon’s hiss between his teeth. he doesn’t know what to say at first, and opens up one more time . . .
what does this even mean, that— ]
I don’t belong to anyone. [ he refuses to believe that’s it. his heart pounds in his head enough that he can feel the pulse in his horns, eyes growing distant and shaking his head. ] I’m no one’s—
[ he hisses out a laugh, but. it’s one of disbelief. his lips don’t curl in the slightest. ]
You’re human.
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Other than amazement of how long he resist looking in a mirror, and watching the dragon almost seem huffy over the aspect of doing so-- his reaction doesn't really surprise him. Yeah, who wouldn't be stunned at a twist like this. He sure was]
Yeah, I know.
I have no idea how this happened to us. I always thought it was some romantic thing, so it makes even less sense.
But I do know, that if these are real bond marks, then if one of us dies? The other will lose the body part the mark is on. Which means for you... [Well, you'd lose your tongue. Kinda sucks doesn't it]
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How do you know these are real?
[ he’s so brash at asking that it almost sounds like he’s demanding a coherent answer from him, but with a irritable hiss that sounds more like an ahhhh as he whips his head back and forth. guh. guh!!!!! ]
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