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!!!!! ]
the dragon sits back, in silence for a lengthy stretch and— gets up again. he’s not going to get anything done just laying here, his limb doesn’t hurt as much, so walking around with his weight thrown to his good wing shouldn’t be a problem.
it isn’t one, for a beast. It’s hard to see discomfort on him even when there’s a small limp to his bat-like walk. the dragon’s tail whips to help keep his balance, and with a grumble: ]
[He moves back as the dragon gets up. Even if the dragon is small for his kind, he's still big by human standards. It's pretty impressive how well he's able to get up considering how injured he was. ]
Er-
[Another village? Well, that seemed as good an idea as any for the boy. So he gives a little nod]
Okay...
[Giving once last look, he spots something lying in the space that the dragon had been sitting: his mother's staff, still in good condition thanks to protection magic. ]
Oh! There it is! [He runs over and picks up the staff, inspecting it to make sure it's okay. The relief is very visible on his face. Not only was his only weapon, but it had sentimental value to him] You must've been sitting on it...thank the gods it's still in one piece.
You and your mother’s stick can find a place together.
[ the dragon mumbles, and that’s all he does for a fairly long while as he wobbles about and heads to— he doesn’t know where he’s heading. he just wants to move, put this little bugger in a place he actually belongs before he could do the same and skidoo.
. . . he’s constantly looking over his shoulder to see the boy a couple times over and still wonders why he saved him, ponders whether it was the bond’s doing or his own sense of justice trying to give back.
the only answer he has is I’ll leave him there, then I’ll be free. that’s the end of that.
until it grows dark, and he grows hungry. the sound of a dragon’s stomach growling sounds like a storm coming. ]
[He corrects him, but he'll follow along. He does his best to try to keep up, though it's very apparent that he keeps trailing behind. His legs were on the smaller side for human standards, so he was tiny compared to the dragon- making it so he has to move at a quick pace just to keep up.
Sometimes when the dragon looks back, the boy will look pretty winded. While he had to walk a lot in his village, he really wasn't used to this kind of travel.
As it gets darker, he only starts to trail behind even more. He's tired and a human's night vision is terrible without any light sources. He is close enough to catch the sound of that stomach, even if he isn't sure what it is]
- What was that?
[He's looking around, trying to see if it was some beast in the forest - even if it was too dark for his eyes to possibly spot anything used to night hunting.]
[ it isn’t as if the dragon can get too fast, especially once the spell that removed his pain wears off. it wears off and it wears off good, to the point that the dragon can no longer keep the shuddering to maintain weight on his wings at bay. eventually, he drops, and reluctantly, he vocally objects, curling his tail around him and folding his wings to his sides.
luckily, there’s water nearby, and he drags himself at least enough to extend his neck to the edge, back purposely facing the boy.
he’s trying to maintain as much distance as possible, but there’s something that pokes at his chest when he does. he doesn’t like it. ]
Just— Go find some tree to sleep in.
[ his voice sounds strained and tired more than anything. with an addition to hunger . . . his stomach gurgles again, and to mask the sound— he hacks up a cough to clear his throat. he’s searching for some fish, but, with brutal honestly: he actually sucks at hunting. ]
[The boy doesn't comply. Not after witnessing a sight like that, with the dragon collapsing and dragging himself to the water. It's a little hard to watch, seeing a creature that's definitely suffering. Sure, it's not a creature the boy particularly likes, but...
Well, he's always been softhearted.
So instead he walks up alongside the dragon, until he's next to the stream. He kneels down and cups his hands to get his own drink of water. Then he watches the dragon, it doesn't seem like he's drinking, but rather....]
[ his belly has become a vicious snarling beast on its own. he tries to sort of— scoot himself away when the boy comes, and before he could answer . . .
he bolts his face into the water, snapping his jaws, once, twice. his snout only comes up drenched.
the fish are gone. ]
I’m fishing.
[ pointedly not mention that he’s trying because attempts are weak! ]
[He watches that attempt happen and "Trying" is definitely the word for it. Surprisingly, the boy knew something of fishing. He wasn't the best fisherman in the village, but his father had taught him things. Things he had used to feed himself, as demi-humans like himself were often left to fend for themselves.
The dragon's attempts? Make it pretty clear why the dragons in the village stories preferred livestock and other bigger animals. Those jaws weren't agile or quick enough to pluck out a fish.]
Pretty sure that won't work...you're making too much commotion.
[He tries to think of what to do instead. He didn't have any nets or traps on him, his favorite way to fish. It'd take too long to construct a make-shift one too. Nor did he have a fishing rod or fishing spear on him...]
Hmmm ... if only I had something like a knife, I could probably make a spear and get fish that way. [He glances over at the dragon.] any ideas?
darkness from the night begins to shroud them, and his eyes adapt. but with the night comes its chill, and to stay away, the dragon lifts himself only to stream a short line of fire under him, scorching grass and stone, and laying right on top of it. drier weeds catch the flames and burn a deep light— the boy can use that.
as for the question. the beast tilts his head and brings in closer to one of his hind legs, where he scratches and scrapes and the scales closer to his horns. thin and sharp, the old ones chip off, some full scales, and fall to the ground. shedding the usual way a still growing dragon would. ]
You have your stick. [ and before he corrects him, the dragon does instead. ] Staff. What else do you need if you have magic?
[Possibly. At least he didn't voice that you were too slow!!
Oh hey, he can actually see now. He gives a nod of appreciation as his eyes adjust to the dim light from the fire. It's enough light so he sees the dragon move to scrape off some of his scales. Stepping over, he bends down and examines the scales, picking one that looks sharp and big enough. That should do]
Thanks. [He moves back towards the stream, kneeling down and setting his staff on the ground so he can untie his hair from the ribbon he's been using. The red hair falls just around his shoulders as he starts to tie the scale to the bottom end of the staff - making a makeshift spear]
Magic wouldn't be as effective in this case. It'd either take too long to cast, or damage the fish so much there wouldn't be enough fish left to eat.
[Finishes tying the spear, he'll show it to the dragon]
Fair warning, it's been awhile since I've done it this way so it might take a few tries.
[ ??? is the sound that comes out (yes, question marks can totally just be sounds) once the boy picks up the scale and actually. he actually gets to work. ]
I.
[ that’s what he can say before he goes quiet again, because he didn’t do anything. not consciously wanting to help him out, but. (should he have?)the dragon can’t huff or grunt about being productive, but he does find himself silently watching as he does. he’s almost impressed to see him put it together. it’s also a little intriguing to see his scales attached to a stick.
right, he’s going to. double-take his attention to the water again. he still needed fish for himself. ]
[He's not sure why the dragon seems so confused. Has he never seen a spear before..? Dragons were weird.]
When I wanted fish? Usually I'd use a net or a trap. But those take much longer to make.
[He pulls off his shoes and rolls up his pants, getting up to start wading into the water. Fortunately, it's not too deep or rapid. He carries the spear with him, holding it in the ready position that his father taught him]
Hmmm...
[he's quiet as he watches himself, waiting for movement. When he thinks he sees something? He stabs his spear in with a little "ha!"
The first time? It was just a stick, not a fish.
The second time? It's a fish, but he's too off. The third is similar.
However with the fourth, he makes a "yes!" as he pulls out his staff/spear - a flopping fish impaled on the end]
Got one! Here-
[He pulls the dying fish off his blade and offers it out to the dragon. Eat up boy]
the dragon attempts another jab at a fish that flits away from the second try, and with an irritated murr, the dragon’s drenched snout pulls up empty handed again. a sting of jealousy makes his heart jump when he sees the boy, the boy, actually got a fish before him.
before him.
and the first thing he does is hand it over. how much weirder can he get (humans were weird)? ]
. . . What’re you doing? [ that’s not how nature works— he’s not some hatchling that needed to be mouth fed either, so he isn’t. sure as to what he’s entailing here, although “here” gives him a small hint. ] You caught it, it’s yours.
The boy meanwhile keeps holding out the fish for him. He knows fully well this dragon just isn't equipped to catch fish on his own, so it only makes sense to do the fishing for him. Humans, even demi-humans, were social creatures. They looked out for their group]
You need it more than I do. It's fine, I'll catch one for myself later.
[ this is slightly embarrassing, and reluctance does hit during the first few moments of fish holding. the dragon turns his head sideways, like a child who didn’t want to accept the spoon, not in the slightest. fish wasn’t even on his usual diet.
but anything is when you’re hungry, and he hasn’t had a proper meal in a while. sometimes he’d go days without full livestock in his claws. it takes the whole day just for him to hunt.
his stomach squeals. he has to eat, though. knocking the fish out of his hands with his snout, the dragon swallows it whole.
. . . he’s still hungry but he’s not going to say anything. not when he was just actually given fish, by choice. instead, he chooses to turn his attention away, but in his head, lords. it’s a storm. either way, when he looks back to him, and back to the water—
he tries to sound more gentle, but it still doesn’t shake off how brash he is with words. ]
[Well, at least he ate it. The boy can't help but smile a little in relief when he does, not that he's aware that he's doing so.
He's not surprise the dragon is embarrassed. An apex predator, the top of every food chain - being hand fed by a small human. It had to be demeaning to such a proud beast.
But also, he's not dumb enough to assume that a dragon will be full on one fish]
After a few more for you, okay? I have to cook mine, so it makes sense to get it last.
[And he steps back further into the river, again looking for fish. It's a moment before he speaks again.]
...Your jaws aren't made for catching fish. They're better at catching larger land prey, so they're not fast and nimble enough to catch a fish. [Its said in an explaining tone- not meant to be demeaning.] It's easier for a human to do it.
[ it won’t stop him from continuing to “catch fish”, anyway! as illustrative as the explaination was, sitting still would be like saying . . . he was right. he was totally right that he couldn’t catch fish. please, do all the work. he knows how hard hunting is.
and if he couldn’t catch one, his resoluteness as a dragon was meaningless. just because it was easier for him, all fish and thanks considered— it didn’t mean it was impossible for him. he just had to use his head, like with the creation of the knife stick.
a little dismissive but not outright brash in execution, he speaks up, hangs his head in a hover over the surface, and while he’s there’s, he observes how the human does it. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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I don't! I just know they look like bond marks I've seen before.
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the dragon sits back, in silence for a lengthy stretch and— gets up again. he’s not going to get anything done just laying here, his limb doesn’t hurt as much, so walking around with his weight thrown to his good wing shouldn’t be a problem.
it isn’t one, for a beast. It’s hard to see discomfort on him even when there’s a small limp to his bat-like walk. the dragon’s tail whips to help keep his balance, and with a grumble: ]
Let’s just find you another village.
[ he has. quite a bit to think about. ]
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Er-
[Another village? Well, that seemed as good an idea as any for the boy. So he gives a little nod]
Okay...
[Giving once last look, he spots something lying in the space that the dragon had been sitting: his mother's staff, still in good condition thanks to protection magic. ]
Oh! There it is! [He runs over and picks up the staff, inspecting it to make sure it's okay. The relief is very visible on his face. Not only was his only weapon, but it had sentimental value to him] You must've been sitting on it...thank the gods it's still in one piece.
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[ the dragon mumbles, and that’s all he does for a fairly long while as he wobbles about and heads to— he doesn’t know where he’s heading. he just wants to move, put this little bugger in a place he actually belongs before he could do the same and skidoo.
. . . he’s constantly looking over his shoulder to see the boy a couple times over and still wonders why he saved him, ponders whether it was the bond’s doing or his own sense of justice trying to give back.
the only answer he has is I’ll leave him there, then I’ll be free. that’s the end of that.
until it grows dark, and he grows hungry. the sound of a dragon’s stomach growling sounds like a storm coming. ]
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[He corrects him, but he'll follow along. He does his best to try to keep up, though it's very apparent that he keeps trailing behind. His legs were on the smaller side for human standards, so he was tiny compared to the dragon- making it so he has to move at a quick pace just to keep up.
Sometimes when the dragon looks back, the boy will look pretty winded. While he had to walk a lot in his village, he really wasn't used to this kind of travel.
As it gets darker, he only starts to trail behind even more. He's tired and a human's night vision is terrible without any light sources. He is close enough to catch the sound of that stomach, even if he isn't sure what it is]
- What was that?
[He's looking around, trying to see if it was some beast in the forest - even if it was too dark for his eyes to possibly spot anything used to night hunting.]
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[ it isn’t as if the dragon can get too fast, especially once the spell that removed his pain wears off. it wears off and it wears off good, to the point that the dragon can no longer keep the shuddering to maintain weight on his wings at bay. eventually, he drops, and reluctantly, he vocally objects, curling his tail around him and folding his wings to his sides.
luckily, there’s water nearby, and he drags himself at least enough to extend his neck to the edge, back purposely facing the boy.
he’s trying to maintain as much distance as possible, but there’s something that pokes at his chest when he does. he doesn’t like it. ]
Just— Go find some tree to sleep in.
[ his voice sounds strained and tired more than anything. with an addition to hunger . . . his stomach gurgles again, and to mask the sound— he hacks up a cough to clear his throat. he’s searching for some fish, but, with brutal honestly: he actually sucks at hunting. ]
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Well, he's always been softhearted.
So instead he walks up alongside the dragon, until he's next to the stream. He kneels down and cups his hands to get his own drink of water. Then he watches the dragon, it doesn't seem like he's drinking, but rather....]
Are you trying to fish?
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he bolts his face into the water, snapping his jaws, once, twice. his snout only comes up drenched.
the fish are gone. ]
I’m fishing.
[ pointedly not mention that he’s trying because attempts are weak! ]
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The dragon's attempts? Make it pretty clear why the dragons in the village stories preferred livestock and other bigger animals. Those jaws weren't agile or quick enough to pluck out a fish.]
Pretty sure that won't work...you're making too much commotion.
[He tries to think of what to do instead. He didn't have any nets or traps on him, his favorite way to fish. It'd take too long to construct a make-shift one too. Nor did he have a fishing rod or fishing spear on him...]
Hmmm ... if only I had something like a knife, I could probably make a spear and get fish that way. [He glances over at the dragon.] any ideas?
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darkness from the night begins to shroud them, and his eyes adapt. but with the night comes its chill, and to stay away, the dragon lifts himself only to stream a short line of fire under him, scorching grass and stone, and laying right on top of it. drier weeds catch the flames and burn a deep light— the boy can use that.
as for the question. the beast tilts his head and brings in closer to one of his hind legs, where he scratches and scrapes and the scales closer to his horns. thin and sharp, the old ones chip off, some full scales, and fall to the ground. shedding the usual way a still growing dragon would. ]
You have your stick. [ and before he corrects him, the dragon does instead. ] Staff. What else do you need if you have magic?
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Oh hey, he can actually see now. He gives a nod of appreciation as his eyes adjust to the dim light from the fire. It's enough light so he sees the dragon move to scrape off some of his scales. Stepping over, he bends down and examines the scales, picking one that looks sharp and big enough. That should do]
Thanks. [He moves back towards the stream, kneeling down and setting his staff on the ground so he can untie his hair from the ribbon he's been using. The red hair falls just around his shoulders as he starts to tie the scale to the bottom end of the staff - making a makeshift spear]
Magic wouldn't be as effective in this case. It'd either take too long to cast, or damage the fish so much there wouldn't be enough fish left to eat.
[Finishes tying the spear, he'll show it to the dragon]
Fair warning, it's been awhile since I've done it this way so it might take a few tries.
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I.
[ that’s what he can say before he goes quiet again, because he didn’t do anything. not consciously wanting to help him out, but. (should he have?)the dragon can’t huff or grunt about being productive, but he does find himself silently watching as he does. he’s almost impressed to see him put it together. it’s also a little intriguing to see his scales attached to a stick.
right, he’s going to. double-take his attention to the water again. he still needed fish for himself. ]
How else did you eat?
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When I wanted fish? Usually I'd use a net or a trap. But those take much longer to make.
[He pulls off his shoes and rolls up his pants, getting up to start wading into the water. Fortunately, it's not too deep or rapid. He carries the spear with him, holding it in the ready position that his father taught him]
Hmmm...
[he's quiet as he watches himself, waiting for movement. When he thinks he sees something? He stabs his spear in with a little "ha!"
The first time? It was just a stick, not a fish.
The second time? It's a fish, but he's too off. The third is similar.
However with the fourth, he makes a "yes!" as he pulls out his staff/spear - a flopping fish impaled on the end]
Got one! Here-
[He pulls the dying fish off his blade and offers it out to the dragon. Eat up boy]
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the dragon attempts another jab at a fish that flits away from the second try, and with an irritated murr, the dragon’s drenched snout pulls up empty handed again. a sting of jealousy makes his heart jump when he sees the boy, the boy, actually got a fish before him.
before him.
and the first thing he does is hand it over. how much weirder can he get (humans were weird)? ]
. . . What’re you doing? [ that’s not how nature works— he’s not some hatchling that needed to be mouth fed either, so he isn’t. sure as to what he’s entailing here, although “here” gives him a small hint. ] You caught it, it’s yours.
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The boy meanwhile keeps holding out the fish for him. He knows fully well this dragon just isn't equipped to catch fish on his own, so it only makes sense to do the fishing for him. Humans, even demi-humans, were social creatures. They looked out for their group]
You need it more than I do. It's fine, I'll catch one for myself later.
[take the fish]
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but anything is when you’re hungry, and he hasn’t had a proper meal in a while. sometimes he’d go days without full livestock in his claws. it takes the whole day just for him to hunt.
his stomach squeals. he has to eat, though. knocking the fish out of his hands with his snout, the dragon swallows it whole.
. . . he’s still hungry but he’s not going to say anything. not when he was just actually given fish, by choice. instead, he chooses to turn his attention away, but in his head, lords. it’s a storm. either way, when he looks back to him, and back to the water—
he tries to sound more gentle, but it still doesn’t shake off how brash he is with words. ]
Now get your own.
[
THANKS ]
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He's not surprise the dragon is embarrassed. An apex predator, the top of every food chain - being hand fed by a small human. It had to be demeaning to such a proud beast.
But also, he's not dumb enough to assume that a dragon will be full on one fish]
After a few more for you, okay? I have to cook mine, so it makes sense to get it last.
[And he steps back further into the river, again looking for fish. It's a moment before he speaks again.]
...Your jaws aren't made for catching fish. They're better at catching larger land prey, so they're not fast and nimble enough to catch a fish. [Its said in an explaining tone- not meant to be demeaning.] It's easier for a human to do it.
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[ it won’t stop him from continuing to “catch fish”, anyway! as illustrative as the explaination was, sitting still would be like saying . . . he was right. he was totally right that he couldn’t catch fish. please, do all the work. he knows how hard hunting is.
and if he couldn’t catch one, his resoluteness as a dragon was meaningless. just because it was easier for him, all fish and thanks considered— it didn’t mean it was impossible for him. he just had to use his head, like with the creation of the knife stick.
a little dismissive but not outright brash in execution, he speaks up, hangs his head in a hover over the surface, and while he’s there’s, he observes how the human does it. ]
Eat next or I won’t.
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