A fine union of many things that join in a life process. Lands shall grow and with it the trees and grass will bare their due in the soil. Eventually it is this rambunctious soil that allows the green to grow and the animals that need of it to chew and grind nature between the teeth. The land gives soil, the grass gives an animal it's food and then another animal it's food from that animal. What a fine union, oh yes. There are many places as to this silent giving and you can be so sure to know that where the ground is plenty, game is fortunate and dew settles in the morning moisture...man is not so far from. Now from where you are sitting this very moment of even standing for the matter, some distance bounding many lefts, many rights, ups and downs through valley and probably seas even, there is a town. Now it's not a very large town mind you but it's not such a small one either. It's cut of fine oaks and paved in stone by the same keepers who run it still. It's a silent land where hogs and fences are plenty, and trees makes a lost man's path more lost. A community for the farmers, merchant and travelers to be certain. This town whose name is known as Enderin and whose flags are of a scaled wing in the wind. Now this would be a curious if not peculiar and odd thing for those that do not know, for this town, this Enderin meriments of it's procuring dragons! Imagine, aye, those very things of teeth and scale that could roast a man alive, and believe me those stories are not all old yet to be myth alone. They're an uncommon breed, dragons. Thick winged, shadows in the sky and for what they are, silent observers that do little to journey lower to the valley's below when their perches atop mountains are so home to them. Clever, they're quite clever and with the game of wit, one wonders how dragon eggs are ever recovered at all from the sort. Well, it depends really on who you went and asked about such things! Now some would say as clever and quick witted as they may be, dragons can be rather clumsy beasts that are in the way to lose things even precious as eggs off mountains! Others would say the creatures know all too well if an egg is of a worthy born or not. It's a thing of smells really, a dragon thing. So if this egg does not have the business to smell right, then off it is thrown to crack and to puddle some many falls away! As it were, whatever thoughts are thought and tales told, now and again there are dragons eggs falling from the clouds. Resilient things really, could kill a man if the poor soul took one to the head, but they do not always crack, and so they are taken as prizes. It just so happens for that little town in the valley, many lefts and many rights that not so far and closer than close, eggs come from the mists and clouds come winter! What luck, what fortune..oh what fortune yes. These eggs have value to them and the weight in gold or trade is worth such merriment indeed which is what we call Ender, it means bargain satisfaction, and now you know why they call such a town Enderin for their business is plenty in selling of these eggs to satisfy! What you might not know however about such a place if you are a listener who does not listen often, is that there are many dragons that roam this town. Quite the shock that would put out the spirit not knowing the things to be docile. Farmer's dragons, and their size could dwarf more than a few fit men if they were fed well enough. Of course they leave eventually, always eventually when they get that big so that a cow might be the only fine thing to be devoured and fill a stomach. Still, quite the uncommon sight to find dragons in the streets or curling away into whatever they can find when they're not in some chore or business about them. Oh yes, these dragons do labor about in the fields or dragging some heavy thing a man could not carry proper. Some even let to being ridden on, which you can only imagine such a sight. Would you fancy riding a thing even if it permitted you? Well I could not, no sir! However there is a lad who does, and he is sure to, otherwise he might be flogged by his mother and father for not doing so come the end of the year. Fate has such a strange interest for that boy, oh yes. Fate has an interest indeed... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The dusk had came in a flourishing orange, the last of the day's light fading off beyond the the veil of coming night. The lanterns were already lit, laid amongst the various porches and their steps in Enderin. The soft laughter of children underfoot and their seemingly boundless energy rang gently into the cool air as they ran about apparently in play. It had been these little ones whom nearly discoursed and landed Jereth Zaterny right down to the cold ground had he not been busy footed as he carried on by. They were like whirlwinds to one another and neither seemed interested enough to acquaint with the near unfortunate collisions. Jereth you see had been rather late, as was his habit and that habit is a nasty one indeed. If you had seen the man and the look on his face, you might believe he was not aware of the children at all, not even the sort of dance he had done to avoid them. No, his thoughts had his boots treading the dirt and stone on the path of Wilma Tolurn, who just so happened to be the last of the egg rounders in town before the full cold season was upon it. Time has a way of getting away from young people. The old cannot seem so certain why and the children are quite oblivious, but it seems to slip passed the fingers of young men and women just like that. The lad is blowing on his hands and warming them in his haste, and he knows his rudeness, oh but how can he tend such things when he is so busy hand and foot on the remains of the crops? The whole of the town is in on it, dragging away at what they can get until there is nothing to grow for the months. Well, nothing quite so healthy to be eaten that is. His thoughts are on an egg, a dragon's egg! Those many days saving on for it, the days that became weeks and the weeks that became months...years. He's been on about it and why not when his mother and father are so adamant, booming some nights for their son to do something more than read about his books. They want him to travel on from village to village, explore and see that world..and perhaps bring a few more things to the table as coin for more luxury. Expenses and all being considered. The thought had been rather dreadful, fainting for Jereth, yet as those days went on, the idea would grow on him. There was talk that dragons were rather quick heeled and with the proper training, trusted more than the purest bred horse. Though he had not cared for the creatures so much, there was little to doubt in the validity of their use. His experience with them though not quite so familiar, had been unpleasant to say the least. They were loud things when they wished to be, and their wings were quite clumsy in the lesser open spaces of the streets. They had a way of scratching the paved steps of the ground with their thick tails they so happened to drag about. They need do little and they could still do damage. So clever and purposely appalling whenever a rider would come to the town baring crates and parcels. Regardless however, Jereth had apprentice experience on horseback, and here and there he'd find himself delivering many such things across the ways, from one door to another when the mood found him agreeable. An unofficial of post already without the pleasantry of being given due expense. The boy could do well with more, and the idea of trade as a parcel runner was a rather attractive thought for he had seen so little for all his years so far. He cared little for dragons but he could stomach that for travels, lord the travels that might let him breath and perhaps read a book now and again in peace away from the due and daily obligations otherwise. It was not hard to figure where Jereth had been in town. You need only still your breath a moment, raise a hand to your ear and listen to the sound of coin scraping in the boy's coat pockets. So hurried and quite a mess that they would sweat and tremble reaching for breath every lamented step. When he'd finally reached the door of Wilma Tolurn and that egg he'd been promised by her truly, he looked like he could give up the ghost before his hands might even reach the handle. The establishment had just the same lantern lain at it's steps, and the door noisily rang out with a little bell as the frame struck open. There without a breath left on him clamored with muddy boots,Jereth had been a sight. "We're closed! We are closed! No business now. " the scratchy voice of a woman came from somewhere behind the odds and ends of the dim shop. " I said...Zaterny. " an eye had peered out from behind a great mound of dusty parcels and papers." I would not see you come for my stock if you would continue to mishandle my door again that way! All day and not a word either and a scene you'll be making like that! I suppose you'll be wanting an egg as well. " Wilma Tolurn stood as grey as a clouded day in the stock collections of bits and bobs behind the makeshift mound of things she called her counter. The state of her wares was often left to be questioned, oh how some even wondered the devil the old woman managed to get the things she sold. She was as shrewd as she was fussy, and any soul that needed something more particular was best to keeping to her sensibilities. Unfortunately for our boy, his was not in that sensibility at all, oh no not with his muddy boots and slamming doors. His breath was returning, his body shivering, and his dark golden hairs matted down by the sweat that he hardly heard the word, least of all the tone in it. " Mrs. Tolurn. Well, have you got the egg then?" the woman with life still in her, even if she looked like little was left, stormed about the floor to see eye to eye with Jereth in the candlelight. " No, I haven't!" his heart had sank as a stone cast down a river. " I do believe I had your word on this that you would have for me on this day one dragon egg." She had drawn near, a sway in her hands as if Wilma Tolurn were actively swatting away his words like smoke. " We haven't any promises and you'd know that best! No word, no deposit! As it so turns out I had eggs a plenty this afternoon until a rather lavish gentleman came for my whole stock and road off to wherever he goes. Now there are none, and none is how many it will be until I return." how dreadful, how terrible! Jereth had found his hands rolling along one another in a panic, oh what nerve of Wilma Tolurn, what inconsiderate.. " If I haven't got one egg with me on the return home then I'll be black and blue from the folks! It would be quite nasty, not one egg left?!" the wrinkles on the woman's face creased further in a scowl at his words " I may only have one eye but it can see, and there are no. more. eggs!" He'd composed himself, settled the best the boy could even with the thoughts of a flogging or two for his miserable efforts. " Oh the pathetic look to you is just the sight, Zaterny. Business is business I'm afraid but.." her words had trailed off and for a moment just an idling flicker of light came into the green color of her working eye. " Now just a moment, yes sir!" she'd hobbled herself against the floor boards, vanishing behind the mounds and trinkets of her makeshift counter away from where any eye could see. And he waited and waited, until he grew concerned poor old Wilma Tolurn might have died, that is until with reluctance she returned with a promise in her hands. It had a shine to it, this unnatural glow, and it looked to be.. " An egg! You said you hadn't any left!" and indeed it was an egg she was holding in both her hands, but the woman shook her head sharply that her grey hair might fall out. " No, nonsense. This is no egg, but an heirloom of my family. Been with us many generations higher than I could count! " and in his hands it went just like that. It was quite a deal heavier than it looked " ..So what am I to do with egg that will not hatch then? I cannot ride an imaginary beast you know. " He exasperated the woman who rolled her eyes to heaven itself " You keep it with you so there won't be no black and blue as you so put it. I'll be leaving before the morning light tomorrow, and so I come back eventually with a real egg. " Jereth raised it back and forth in his palms with the thoughts, a smile creeping in his head. It was genius, and if the egg could fool him, it could certainly fool both his mother and father. " And you would give it to me just as that?" and the old woman just laughed until she wheezed. " Of course not! It would be on rent, and fee is modest of course. Five neks and not a bit under. " it was modest..it was also robbery for the good it did, but Jereth knew there was no more room on that table to be bargained. He'd sighed, given reach to his pockets and handed over the dues with a great dispassion. It wasn't often you could find Wilma smiling but there she was practically beaming. " Perhaps this will learn you a lesson in business. " there was not much more to say on it, not that he wanted to, and Jereth had been for the door. " And don't worry about your hands breaking it. Believe it that I've loaned this egg before. Near impossible to crack...ah...Ender." and with that the boy had been out into the cold air once more. The ways home hadn't been so hasty for Jereth even as the sun finally gave under the many mountains and hills. Now and again he might even step off the path and be unaware of it for his eyes would be drawn, even transfixed to the egg in his hands. Such a smooth thing, and even the curiously small of lights could be found to reflect in it so that it almost appeared as one large cat's eye. Not a single scratch to be found on any point of the thing. Such an odd item to be an heirloom but alas it's purpose had been found proper. By the time his boots had been climbing the porch steps oh his home, Jereth could hardly see a thing about him in the quiet eve of night. He'd drawn the front door as cautiously as a thief might be, and found himself greeted by the warm breath of abode, and the soft crackles of wood in the fire. He was quite delicate here, and you wouldn't know it to be the sounds of a young man the way he carried them through the unlit hall. He crept and crept until he was nary a reach further from the knob of his room's door when a voice had found him. " Finally back are you? Considered you lost the way and wandered off." Jereth had cringed, turned away from his escape to find his father hunched with a hard, empty plate in hand. His eyes had been squinting, discerning whatever it could be his son so brooded over with his arms. He was often a quiet man whose hands worked the fields, and his way was not to speak often with others, even Jereth. That is of course unless it was of his interest, and for Jereth's father this had been a topic of interest for years. He'd known full well that Jereth had been away to buy an egg, and in that thought was the business, the..well.. the plan as it were for whatever Jereth chose to do with it really. " Never mind you, so! Lets see it, have you got the egg?" With reluctance and small pause the egg was handed over without nary a word of it. The man looked it over, ran his hands along the side and all the while his was a look of concern that only seemed to be darkening. It rather drew the heart out of Jereth to wonder if in some way the man could tell it was not at all as it seemed. " Just a matter of the wait, aye? Best not lay it about any edges now." the weighty thing had been given back. It had worked, and Jereth could have deflated from the internal sigh he had released because of it. " I will be sure not to, father." he had still been reluctant, perhaps even feeling a twinge of guilt in his heart for the deception but the guilt was a fleeting one in favored concern what might have happened with both his mother and father knowing otherwise. " Well don't just stand there in that daze now. Go on, go find some place for that egg and join your mother. She's nearly done with supper and could use the hands." Jereth had been tired from the day's work. He'd been tired from the troubles of the walk atop it more so, but his father no matter how soft spoken he was, had also been a man of limited patience and little regard for disagreement. Get the man started and his voice might carry a few houses down so that was the end of that as it were for the thought. Without another word the boy had opened their door and vanished into the room's darkness. The food had came and went, and oh how it had been lovely. Things of roots and greens with a good chew in them and the running oils of red meats that filled the air still. Not a crumb to be spared among the three, not that there could be such a sparing as the season finally gave itself to the helm of winter. There would be traders now and again but such thoughts were quiet as had been their stomachs. Now and again the three would talk, oh yes such talk of things as an egg and what would become of Jereth. such talk indeed and while his mother had been less of words than Jereth's father, the waning interest of her voice was far greater than that of any shadow in suspicion. The sweetest sound in the world to his ears..and Jereth had gone his way from the table with a heavy heart still. When he had retired to the quiet and safe sheets of his room, he would turn on his side then turn again, then turn again some more watching with half closed eyes of the egg that sat beneath the window and upon the various thick ends of books upon his desk. Though the room had been near a complete dark as the night itself, the moon had been out to wander the heavens and it's light was a beauty that reached in through the windows to give the egg an unnatural white glow across it's surface. The boy hadn't known how long he had stared but the longer he had, the more the fellow understood why Wilma Tolurn was so well to keep it and do no parting otherwise. Now it was on the woman's part to bring him an actual egg that could crack and not just be for shows on books and desks collecting dust. He would have his eyes and ears out for Wilma, and that egg, any egg she had on her. He had relented however, feeling the sores of the day upon him for his rambunctious short travels atop the field work. There would be more tomorrow and he would hardly have the hours of night to ease him, and yet even with those thoughts in mind, Jereth had found himself gnawed at by another feeling in the back of his mind. One that was most persistent and had the habit of him as much as he had the habit of it. That driving nerve that so subtly rolled beneath the skin and often came when any gentleman forgot it were even there, and oh how it had been there in firm reminders as it had now. Jereth for the young man he had been was without when it came to such fancies as the company of a beauty, and certainly no experience or permissions with any betroth of consequence. No, our boy had his minds on other such matters and those were of pages and books or some other writings that were hard to come by on the hands of tradesman. Books and tilling for the ever changing seasons, and when there was no more of that for either it was certainly more of the callings on a young man around town. For what he lacked in social distinguishment, Jereth more than accommodated with compliance in handwork. Often days you could find the young man with his hands full with some work, or perhaps wandering the streets with a heave of just about your imagination to some door or another. This of course is so very fondly why the thinking came to be that Jereth Zaterny would become a mailer yet, and it hasn't changed course. Alas, all that time for something left him errant for the curious desires and were he to be so frank, pleasures of fine company. Even that however was far more fantastical than even some of the more astute literature he kept. So as Jereth lay there in the dark of night and alone beneath the sheets, his hand found it's way to idle and procure his tired amusements in self indulgence. It had not taken so long to get himself worked up or satisfy his breath in a quieted frenzy but his mind was diluted of such spectacles to allure and stimulate the senses. So worked up in the moment had he been that Jereth had failed to notice as the further he went on with the act, the greater another light had begun to form on the egg, one that was not of the moon's light or on the shine of it's surface but deeper, near pulsating as gentle a heartbeat. For the rut Jereth had been in kept his eyes closed in the dark as he followed the feelings and strokes so that his breath might shallow somewhat in the motions. He hadn't been aware in the slightest of that brilliant glow from the shell amongst the pages near like a small sun itself were rising in the room. As he were feeling a trembling deep inside himself it had came to his ears as a shot in the dark, a loud crack and sounds of such little things scattering. Jereth had drawn upwards from the sheets in a fright, his heart pounding away in his chest to wonder what in the devil had suddenly been. The window had not been broken and there was no glass to be found, but there certainly was something broken about the floor. He could see the glint of moonlight off the many pieces of whatever it had been, and then it had found Jereth with a great heart sink that surely enough the egg had not been so impervious as Wilma Tolurn had said. The cracked scraps of egg littered amongst the floor and desk, though as the boy had drawn near he had found most of it to remain where it had been left. His steps came to pause. A sound, something not so dissimilar to that of grinding or crunching had softly carried in the air and it was only when he had finally rested against the chair that he realized it had came from what was left of the egg, and it was moving this way and that. Wakeful...alive. Impossible he thought, absolute rubbish and yet there it was, the darndist thing, and with it shifting in the moonlight he'd seen a thin line whip this way and that as a small blur. It had been a tail and soon there was more of it and more until finally with a wet pop a creature of reluctant size unfolded out from the egg in such a heap Jereth could not begin to understand. It was quite the mess this thing, and it was making quite the mess too with it's damp body that shuddered and continued to unfold until Jereth had realized most of it had been a pair of wings! He could feel the heat it had given off, and soon enough more of the creature had been uncurled to show of a pointed beak like maw and slit eyes that had a soft red shine; dare it be more believed it appeared as an estranged salamander than anything else save for those wings, the devil's wings with long fingers a part of the wettened folds. Jereth could not believe his eyes at the spectacle before him. He did not even care for the ruined covers or cuts on his feet or all the sharp shell on the floor he so carelessly stepped on. It had been a dragon, at least it looked like a dragon, and he had a question or two for Wilma Tolurn. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- " I know not what game you would play with but mark my words it has no trouble for me! " Wilma had continued to load the last of her bags into carriage. Jereth had caught the woman before the early dawn and he was not about to let her be on the way, not without an explanation or two. " I tell you again Mrs. Tolurn, that egg of yours did hatch and if you would stop with that fiddling of yours and what not with your bags, you would see clear as day I brought the beast that came from in it!" he had pushed his luck and closed the way for the old woman that were left of her things. Before another word could escape her lips, he had held a basket to her that he had stormed all the way from home, and how a sharp heat had been escaping from every wind of it so that you could see near smoke in the frigid early morning air. When she'd peered inside, her expression seemed to light in surprise. " You tell me now, and no funny business or trickery that this came from my egg?" he nodded to Wilma and went on " Aye, the loudest thing with a great crack I nearly thought I were going to die from the fright! Well Mrs. Tolurn, what kind of dragon do you supposing it is?" " This is no dragon, Zaterny." her arms had vanished into the basket only to scoop it out with a loud hissing and flailing as she took the scaled thing in hand. " Oh none of that fussing now. HHHSSK!" she sounded worse than it's shrill screeching and yet it did no good. She peered over the creature, tugged at the wings and turned it's curved snout away and stared at the neck a long while. " Here now, Zaterny." she had pushed it back into his arms so that he would drop the basket to the ground with a surprise. " Now then, you could be more careful to warn me before you shove such a danger in my arms! " and the woman's eyes rolled at his remark. " There is no danger for you, no sir. Can't you even hear it now? The thing went silent the moment it fell into your grip." and it had been rather apparent then that yes, the small creature of scales and wings was silent and near limp in his hands. " Rather queer a gesture for a dragon, even a whelp." " All those books and the lot of good they do for you. Use those ears boy and listen when I say. That is a Wyvern as close they come..and not a Wyvern. " oh what a contradiction, and Jereth was far too tired from the night's excitement to entertain it. Thankful to the almighty however that Wilma took his silence in the same meaning. " It's a glass Wyvern. It so is if it came from that egg, MY egg! They're unnatural things and by that I mean no nature has any part of it. The wings are all you need to see and know when dragons have all fours claws and sharp things while this only having two. The curved snout as well is no design for a dragon." He'd felt the ends of it's claws dig passed the layering of his wear drawing a wince from him. " A glass Wyvern? Are you to tell me this creature is not even what it appears as?" that indeed was what it was. " What you are holding is a craft of a Thaumaturge." for once in her life Wilma Tolurn looked excited and bewildered all in the same face. " You mean to say a sorcerer or something other made this which is a Wyvern and not a Wyvern? " and she nodded for his questioning. " In my family all these years, and out on loan here and there, never to hatch. Glass beasts are familiars and such to their bearers, boy. They do not feed as natural things nor do they grow the same way. They have an unnatural long life and...what were you doing when the egg hatched? " The question had struck Jereth so suddenly that his mouth went dry for it. Of course he had recalled what he'd been doing, all too well really. He'd paused in the response, without even realizing it, even producing an idle tracing of his fingers atop the Wyvern's head. " ..Trying to sleep, Mrs. Tolurn. Otherwise I am not sure. However besides all this I have no interests for a Wyvern when a dragon is what I'd be needing. " she'd shaken her head " Well you best be warming to the company of a companion as a Wyvern, Zaterny. You can't be getting rid of no such beast as that. You gave it a hatch, now that would be a bit of magic you have between the two of you. I've seen such a thing only once in my life before and familiars of any kind aren't known to be found anywhere than the side of their bearer. Don't go toying with magic now when the grounds have settled. I warn you of that. " He could not believe what he was hearing and all the while Wilma Tolurn crept into her carriage to gently tug at it's reigns and give conscious to the horse that held it. So he called to her desperate " The egg was yours, and I knew no part in this! I cannot keep a thing as this!" she scoffed for his insistence " That may be, but the Wyvern is certainly not mine nor my mind on it. You'd be lucky Jereth Zaterny. Lucky that I don't charge you a fortune for destroying my heir's gift. No, it's more than luck or the knowing I've to be on my way with greater haste now, mercy your stalling me. Now if you'll be excusing me, my kindness has limits and I am to leave with no more delay!" he wanted to speak, to say more and insist on her taking the Wyvern with her but as far as Wilma was concerned, it was not his to give away. It was his to be bound to. Was there truly such a magic for consequence otherwise? Surely there must be. As she gave pull to the carriage and took down the street, she called a final time back to the boy. " And if I were you Zaterny, I would get to knowing what hatched the beast! They're only to feed on happiness and sadness. Things that move the spirit! Do this or regret, do this or regret!" he'd stood there in the morning air and fine mists where the sun was still not up but nearly so, a basket at his feet, brushing his fingers against Wyvern in hand whose pale near white scales glinted like jewels ground into a fine powder. He swore the thing had began a purring as a feline. What a dilemma indeed. He'd taken to the path once more home with such wondering and a bundle of shimmering scales in his arms. Jereth had heard stories and tales now and again of such things as familiars but never a glass Wyvern or glass anything for the matter. Certainly he had never seen the kind and had no experience with them. If this were a creation of a Thaumaturge...that could mean a great troubling. Mysterious kind, the Thaumaturge. Men and women who had taken of the mystics and who were near impossible to find. They shrouded themselves in designs no common eye could discern, and hid behind magic craft and devlish workings. They were often feared and there were many things to blame them for as the late seasons or falling ill of whole townships. Magic was a thing to be feared because it often brought great consequence. Had the Wyvern been a product of one...Jereth was uncertain what to do with it. Glass or not, dragon or not, it was to be his at least for the time being, and there was little fuss to be made from the thing all the way his walk. He had to admit that it's body produced a heat so much more pleasant than a keep's fire especially in the passing shade of the trees. When he had returned home with the reluctance, he'd found the folks waiting on the porch peering to the roads. Oh how they went on about the loud noise in the night, and how very peculiar it was and pardon is that a dragon in your arms? So he told and told, all the while it lay there with half lids, red eyes peering amongst the three, seemingly unaware or uninterested in what there was to be said. Both Jereth's mother and father seemed reluctant as well, all things given the way they turned up. Though they were just as unfamiliar with Wyverns as he had been, and with enough pawing, uncurling of the wings and staring into those gems of eyes, they felt at least agreeable enough not to seek out Wilma herself and strike her dead. " Dragons and Wyverns..well it at least looks close enough to a dragon." his mother mused, and his father had the sense of agreement with her. Jereth of course had failed to mention the other truth of the matter which was that this was and was not a Wyvern at all. Just the same as he had failed to mention the egg had been thought a fake to begin with! No, no they did not need the perplexins of more truths now, and gods help they might collapse then and there with any mentioning of dark magics. " Though from what Mrs. Tolurn would say, a Wyvern may not be as up to polish as a dragon. Maybe the little creature will turn out to be less of size, or less fast on the feet..or less smart for the matter." with those last words he'd felt a pressuring on his hand, and who come and gander to see the fine little fellow wide eyed with it's mouth shut between Jereth's fingers. "...Quite sure its biting me." perhaps the little devil had some wits about it..unnatural wits to listen. His mother had a laugh and shook her head for heaven's sake " Serves you right, and you best to learn it a contrary to that habit. Now come inside! This cold is enough for anyone, even a dragon or Wyvern or whatever sort of beastie!" while his mother had vanished back inside, his father had stood him a moment more with a muttering " And dragon or not, see what comes of it. I'd not see this planning of ours be gone and waste, aye? We've our jobs to do and when they're done I want you to see Jaquin. He's sure to have some advice for you and your..friend." In his room, Jereth had done more than his best to settle that Wyvern. Oh how it was something fierce with it's tail thrashing and rolling as the boy barely got it to stay in place on the covers of his bed. " Stay will you, bloody beast! " and it would not, whipping about it's thin little neck to avoid his fingers. Eventually he had given up for settling and just allowed it the freedom of passage among the sheets. " Not even a dragon is so stubborn over such trivial things." he'd relented and found his face to rest into the palms of his hands from all this tiring. When they had came down again, there staring at him from the very edge of the bed was the Wyvern and what a curious sight it was. " ..Supposing I should name you sooner than later." he'd mused while bringing his hand to it once more. Could not help but chuckle as it outstretched the membranes of the small wings and felt the end claws prickle at his fingers as it grabbed hold of him. " Quite the noodle you are..could fool me you were no such making from a magic man.. I'm certain good for nothing would not be much a name. No..no, I think I know a well enough name for you. Naedren. Not that you understand names at all do you?" It was a fine name. Of course it had once belonged a dog, and the dog belonged to Jereth and his family as well, now no more, but such details, such details needn't be reminding. A fine name for a dog, a fine name for a Wyvern. " Jereth!" His mother had called for him and as hesitant he'd been, the boy left a moment's time. Although she did little in the ways of outside work, Jereth's mother had a way about the stead to keep no very foot of sully. Of course the pride came with a price on the woman, and that was time so she was quick to take advantage of her son's company as well hands. Perhaps small trifles to herself yet rather dull work for Jereth, and behold the boy soon had his hands in pots and bowls, scrubbing away at the scorch marks left by a fire. The lad could carve away at dirt until the wee hours of daylight vanished behind mountains, and yet he pondered how his own mother could stomach the monotony, the scrub, scrubbing and grind, grinding against the various metals and clay in all that silence and such finely placed clutter. By the time he'd finished, he was certain for his father to give him an ear lashing having taken so long once he'd made the way. So with that he bid his mother a fine morning, rushed for his things and perhaps some clothes that were not so finely damp from a dish's soak, and in his room is that Wyvern hunched upon his books, open pages and all. Now at first all Jereth can see is that this scaled beasty is being a tyrant to his literature, whatever it may be! So he has the clicking of his tongue, the shooing motions, raising of his arms to while the recently named Naedren from his desks and more importantly, his books. He'd been turning the pages closed once more until he'd seen the illustrations and realized quite well they were of his more..personal literature. Such illustrations that can make a man's blood boil fierce and true in delight, and there is only one delight in mind for those kinds of books. Such things that were hard to acquire, and harder to stare a supplier in the eyes for. No doubt it is amusing for Jereth to find the creature creeping upon such pages with no business and yet..rather odd it being so able to open the book as it did. His mind wandered, considered of the night prior and the event itself that had taken place before the egg so noisily hatched. " Jereth, your father will be expecting you! Off to him now!" he'd sighed in the intruding voice of his mother and about to answer but there was another in his place. " Ja-reeth!" it quite shocked him actually, this small and shrill voice that began as a mouse and ended as glass cracking, and where it came from but his two feet and on the floor from that Wyvern of all things! It's eyes stared back at him, unblinking and uncertain. " Ja-reeth!" the bump of it's snout curled in the announcing, a small tongue darting out as if it had tasted something bitter. The beast truly was magical! A talking wyvern of all things, now think of the spectacles and fame!...think of the unwanted attention and perhaps accusing..the gallows, oh dear. Oh what never ending delights and dilemmas that Jereth's head nearly spun out of control, how he just wanted a normal dragon that very moment! And the boy took hold of it and brought it along for all the shock and fancy it might bring to his poor mother. What was he to do when a Wyvern is calling his name and out of the blue too?! Down the roads he is a storm of uncertainty and all the while bobbing Naedren between his arms who would say again and again the butchering of his name the way only a little glass Wyvern can! In some way it was rather cute actually, but also trouble. Oh yes he had done his best to silence the thing, even put a hand over the snout in the vein hope of quieting the tongue. What would his father think of such an odd sight and further, what questions might he have that Jereth would so reluctantly give an answer to? The tricky devil had gotten in such a fuss from the snout holding, why it clambered about his coat until it curled around the back of his neck and stubbornly held to his shoulder with a deep sigh. Perhaps there were more wit about it than Jereth believed then, and perhaps even for being so recently a hatchling, Naedren may have held an innate intelligence or however unnatural an intelligence. They remained quiet for the rest of that walk, and go figure they remained quiet still when he'd arrived in the fields. Now there are no crops in these fields any longer for it getting colder, and it will be that way for some months. So all those vegetables and things that are green or some other are being salted and jarred elsewhere in home. The many trees surrounding the fields are mere stumps now and there is no better company than burning wood when the air is no longer safe and warm but dead and cold. So what is to be done then when the skies shall be darker and the earth cold and covered in snow? Tilling; aye, there they are for hours on end raising their arms and the plows to be brought down with them striking and breaking up the already hardening dirt. It will be dry for that season, and the ground will need to be ready again, open and cut for when the snow melts it will soak far greater come the summers and spring. Jereth keeps to his own, bringing a chuckle from the aware eye now and again as Naedren bobs their head along his shoulder with each swing and pull. Now and again he brings his eyes from the work too and can't help but watch the wood and curled metal of the larger plows being dragged along by the dragons along the outer edges of the field. All the while Naedren appears more alike a shoulder bird, switching between both sides and holding on with such a pain when Jereth is far too quick and sudden with his work. The claws are the reminder it being there at all. A quarter of the day's light passed and Jereth's father sent the boy early on his way. " Hardly more need of you here for now. Have Jaquin look at that Wyvern of yours and..see about your interests in finding labor. Might do you some good! Then home with you to your mother. Could use the help some more." Now Jaquin is an older and quite studious man. As to what keeps him however is none any business for anyone! A rather lengthy fellow whose professions are in common trades, dragonic parcel...and gathering harder to find things for the proper one asking. Thankfully for Jereth he had been in that host select for such personal materials now and again. Like Wilma Tolurn, his reputation was well established for his goods, and unlike Wilma Tolurn he was not hated for it. Though soft spoken, the gentleman had a rather straightforward mouth to him and it was most wise to not see the teeth in it if one was feeling...daring for dispute. One needn't argue with a man who came and traveled some years to and from the greater gates of Ashtruh. A far away place for less sensible folk. Oh no, he was still a good man at least from appearance. By the time Jereth had reached the door of his shop, he was nearly a mess surrounded by children bubbling with youth's laughter to point and paw at the odd little white Wyvern on his shoulders. The youth have far too much time and little to do with it. Naedren however was less delighted at the attention, and whirlwind of hands reaching and pleading " Oh please let us play with the baby dragon! It's scales are beautiful! Can it blow fire? " Naedren simply hissed and did it's best to hide under the back length of their protector's hair. He was damn well thankful for those hands to not follow through the door but vanish away solemnly, and oh how he was met with a less pleasant thing of a scent. Smoke, ashen and wooden as that which dragons made so well of since they would pass through the doors now and again. A fine coat of it ran through the air, the fingers of light reaching through the glass windows and illuminating the swirls of dust and smoken incense that silently trailed along. Here were many shelves with many jars, and in those jars many more things; some Jereth knew as herbs or bone, and others he could think a hole in the ground before he guessed! The floors were things of dust and ash, of course they were and why not when there were dragons and their riders certainly there not moments prior probably. There were also books, so many fine books that Jaquin had been a rather fine source for them in a township so utterly dry of any writing at all, never mind the reading. This Jaquin was no stranger to the privy knowings of Jereth's hunger for the quiet knowledge as he himself were, and through that commonality a distant bond had been born. Well more of a mild friendship as it were shared through the mutual interests of books. It was little any wonder that all Jereth had managed in tomes, they certainly passed through the hands of Jaquin first, and with timid admittance he may have requested an eye kept out for less openly tasteful works from the older man. He may have had his arms full yet he was still a young man whose mind often wandered and that wandering often lead to the same frustrations, alas surely Jaquin would manage such requests with minor reluctance and a shaking of the head but a smile none the less. At the very least he had some humor to it, any sense. Maybe understanding even..or pity. " Ah, Zaterny. I knew you would be along sooner or later." Jaquin had stood at a hunch, eyes in a squint even in the dim lighting of the inside. Though his head had none a sliver of a hair, a finely groomed and tied beard of silver and black trailed down his robe's front nearly down to his waist so that you might think all the hair had simply flowed from inside his head and down his chin. " You were expecting of me then?" Jereth could not help but flinch trying to free the dragon from his back neck. " A field hand hadn't come more than a trifle of light before yourself on behalf of your father.Spoke of an uncommon prize. Well then. Let us see of it won't you? " the little devil certainly left scratches with such reluctance being lifted from Jereth's neck, and the devil's pain it caused too for the matter. For his own sake and less loosening of blood, Jereth had taken to cradling the wyvern in both arms as if a newborn of his own and so thankfully dear did it settle into them. " What an opulent set of scales. So thin as well; not so common a trait for any Drakon beast. An unusual set of girth to it for such an early age." Jaquin had paused during the pawing and examinings with such odd delight and curious curiosity." Where on this bountiful Earth did you come across such a thing, Zaterny? " and as his mother and father, he told the man everything but not quite, and he could hardly believe it himself. " Mrs. Tolurn to have such quality...why it's an unusual sort her eggs might be any half decent than my worst of books." " Jaquin, actually there is a certain matter of books I wished to be discussing with you." and the man relented a moment with a chuckle and sigh " I admit trepidation in the prospect. Another of your more..flavorful ventures?" Jereth's cheeks nearly flushed from the realization " No, now certainly not in this occasion, no sir!" the words seemingly spilling from him in a sensible panic " It would be for learning, and learning itself!" the lad had given way long enough a wait for the silence to weigh so uncomfortably. " ..I need of some materials in Wyvern taming and raising..and..Thaumaturge." and the older man stood straight once more at the last of his words. " Magic folk? That kind of reading comes with a hefty price, Jereth. Dangerous ink and even more dangerous knowledge. What would you want with such a thing as that now? " and before Jereth could lie himself a way out of the question, another answered in his place. " Ja-reeth!" Naedren snorted and flicked it's tongue, Jaquin stared in silence, an unsure expression cast from his wide eyes." ..B-because my Wyvern may not be a Wyvern at all..." Jereth could only mutter. There was much explaining to be done and Jereth didn't know the half of it to begin, and mind you again he's not so open to sharing all the fine particulars but enough of Glass Wyverns, Wilma Tolurn's warning for him and yes the talking of a single word that may soon be many more. " Familiars..nasty business, Zaterny...nasty business indeed...but you cannot be blamed in any of it. I would take care and weary for those knowing." and Jaquin does not need to mention any more on the truth of the matter. " Which is why I'd be needing of books so there will be no nasty business at all for our discussing. Wilma Tolurn may have brought myself trouble but I can make luck of this yet..and that luck is entirely in your hands Jaquin. Writings, information, anything that can be managed on things as Thaumaturge and their familiars..Can you do this for me? " the boy is hopeful and the man hasn't a word for him, only the tugging at his beard and the deep thought of silence. Finally with a sigh he is nodding " Your luck would be better spent finding the scholars of Temtin's pass in the East but it is rather a dangerous time for the travel in this weather..alright Zaterny. It will take time for some of it...and I will be needing of dues for the expenses. Cannot guarantee they will remain the same or that I can find a great deal for help but for you I will try. " and Jereth is lit up by god, he has hope in his heart again. " You are a kind man, Jaquin, and I thank you for it! My father and I were however curios..and I'm not supposing you might consider a new rider one of these seasons with a fine mess as this clearing up eventually?" perhaps the hope is a little bit too much for Jereth to be getting ahead of himself. " A matter at a time, Zaterny...In the meanwhile I might have some pinch of salts or two for your companion." His footing is off in a limp and the man is reaching for jars this way and that " No, no..not this one, or this..ah!" and he bring his pinched fingers to the Wyvern in arms to sprinkle a fine blue gradient powder. " Jaquin..what is it exactly that you are doing with that..well what is it I mean?" and the man can only smile as he dusts off his hands. " Ecrean salts. They say it can curb a dragon's miscreant behavior. A pinch or two a day, no more than three of course. Perhaps it will do well for your Wyvern too. " it may be a remedy though Jereth is not so familiar with such care and Naedren seems dulled by it only a moment later to sneeze " ...Yes, well at least I would hope it does well for them." and Jereth can only clear his throat " I would have much gratitude if we would not have any others knowing of this- Naedren and their mimicking the tongue or any other such thing. Perhaps a curiosity between just ourselves for the time being?" and he is relieved by the words followed " Worry not for me. My lips won't utter a sound. As for your Glass Wyvern, I suggest yourself to learn it restraint. Rumor and gossip can travel Quickly Jereth, and there is nothing quicker. Be on your guard for both your sakes." well he is nearly relieved. So Jereth leaves the shop, hope in his heart and far less in his pockets for things as books and salts for him to carry on home with the weight of a Wyvern that will not stop calling his name between the trees. Jaquin begins of his quill and ink dabbling before a queer thought follows to still his hand. " A talking Wyvern..might make for a unique story in the postal trade.." his grunt is soft, a passing intrigue for further commendation later. All the rest of the day Jereth is taken up with the menials of the stead, and his mother to eagerly push and prod him about. The heavens she is thankful to and the hell he is cursing for. He does these tasks she would ask of him more and more as if they are dropping from the sky itself, each more consuming than the last. All the while he is ever so vigilent to be sure that the door of his room is closed, that the knob is not turned and that Naedren is kept from his mother's sight until she can ask no more and the sun has fallen down from the sky. He swears to be hearing scratches and a soft screech now again behind the cover of his room. So it is that when he finally returns again he finds the dark night creeping in and the books upon his desk opened once more, one after the other and others elsewhere still. It is on the bed's center that he finds the surrounding of books around the Wyvern, a minor coil of open texts and Naedren between them all as quite a sight. " It is rude to be reading other's books...at least without permission. Should not read in the dark either." the door shut behind him through his muttering. His arms are sore, and his strength is sore so that he is subdued in closing the books again and placing them away from grabbing claws and troubling wings that might scratch and tear. The Wyvern makes little a fuss however and is soon forgetting and purring. He lit a candle for the soft glow to flicker among the walls and wood, set the wick and wax upon the window sill, finding the ruby red glint of Naedren's eyes to follow him along the room. He'd just about collapsed into bed; warm..soft. He felt the shifting weight, the pitter patter of the Wyvern crawling closer and still staring. " Jee-rath. Hungry." another word, what a clever and troubling thing. He is too tired for troubling thoughts though. No, he sat up and shrugged, unhappily lifted from the soft and warm sheets and went to find something that might find the taste's blessing of a talking Wyvern. So he returned with a hand of fowl freshly warmed by a fire for the meat to lead smoke from the air. He set this fowl on dish and next to Naedren. " Go on now, eat." yet Naedren does not eat. Oh it might sniff and prod yes but it's mouth wont open. That is of course until it calls to him once more " Ja-reeth! Hungry!" and he cannot help but laugh at the whine and pathetic tone. " Meat is good for dragons and I imagine Wyverns just the same so go on!" yet he recalled the words from his tired mind, those words spoken from Wilma and her insistence on the roads away. " They're only to feed on happiness and sadness. Things that move the spirit! " He remembered more of course, before the egg split in two. He can feel it in his chest, the heart beating deeper and oh how bothered he is with the considerations he is drawing. Is it possible that the Wyvern in all it's appetite that it hungered for the same feelings brought from..self indulgence? He wants to laugh, in fact he cannot help but chuckle with worry and morbid curiosity. Utter nonsense of course, there must have been something more than what he was imagining. The weariness has simply come to him and there is no more need for the thought, no sir! To the floor with the fowl and Naedren much to their dismay. " Ja-reeth! Hungry!" it whines but he won't hear of it and gets out from his clothes and beneath the covers to hopefully fall into slumber. Yet Naedren would still persist. He felt the shaking of the bed, the sound of cloth punctured by claw and soon the weight of the wyvern as it sat near his side with the same two words. So very persistent indeed that it nudged at Jereth and when he hid beneath the covers it scratched at them too until the very candle light gave in to darkness once more. So Naedren with a silent reluctance came to settle beside Jereth, curl up and have a deep sigh. The sweet silence, how lovely it was. Yet as he lay there, Jereth still found the difficulty to drift off, and of course there was a guilt to his actions. He did not want to starve the beast but it was a difficult task when they refused to eat the food they were given. It pried away at him still and with it came worry. Were it possible indeed that the beast fed on his emotions or those therein found from his deviant acts, and why? What design was that to be feeding a creature?! He laid in this way for some time and with some thought, certainly longer than he could figure until finally with all the weight in his heart and worry in curiosity he relented. Without a word he had fumbled with the covers of his drawers, found the familiar and awkward relations of grasping himself firmly rousing himself. He had to know, had to finally know what truth came of those actions and hoped they were not what he concluded. His mind swam with strange images, fleeting thoughts of intimate knowings and such tales as he imagined from the books. His breath shallowed, gave to the rhythm of his fine strokes until he'd realized the shaking of his pillow from the deep purring of Naedren. His mouth felt dry, a twinge of worry, embarassment and uncertainty flowing into the moment. Was what he had been doing wrong? Jereth had closed his eyes all the more tighter, tried to drown out the purring vainly until he felt the familiar twinge, the build of pleasure raising from his toes up his legs and so on until with grunt he'd felt the release, the great seizing up and ebbing away of the tension. He had settled in the mess, felt rather filthy of it and exhausted yet the weight of the bed kept him from getting up to clean himself of..well..the particulars. "Ja-reeth.." Naedren had sighed a final time, curled further and for all Jereth knew, fallen asleep even before he did. There was no more pleading from the Wyvern and his suspicion were answered..just not with what he truly wanted. What was to become of this then and how might he go on knowing he would be doing this possibly every night? He hadn't the faintest clue nor the remaining energy to think so deeply. No, he fell away into rest for the night..and Maybe it were his imagination but when the morning light came, when he looked upon Naedren again he could have sworn the wyvern was sizeably larger than before. This is how the days went by. Jereth would raise in the morning and tend to the hens with feed. His mother would call upon him, and Naedren would follow under foot every step of the work whatever it may be. He would wander the streets when the sun would manage from the clouds in it's brief shine. A curious sight for a man with a wyvern bobbing on his shoulders would follow soon after. The air would grow colder by the day and less light with it, yet Jereth persisted the chill to Jaquin's shop. He would wish him a fine morning, and Jaquin would do the same and say sorry but no luck today for any books but the word would come soon! Of course that would not stop Jereth for inquiring on other such books already in hand or to hint now and again in interest of work. Always the same he would leave with no luck and perhaps a book or two. You see these books were filled with many things for learning and while some may have been for Jereth, all eventually were combed by Naedren. The thing had a natural taste, a spark for turning pages as much as the boy did his own! Jereth would wander the town stopping by home and keep to know of any needings, labors or trade. Sometimes by foot and others by horse from the local stables. If there was work to be done, it was done, and if not he was off all the same and bid whoever a good day and to keep warm. Mind you of course there was less reason for folk to be wandering around and so the usual bustling of people and clopping of horses was replaced with less than nothing. When there was little else for him or the chill proved too much, it was off back on the path home with a lit fire and perhaps a glass of spirits were his mother and father in such a mood. Of course for most of it he would recline to the cold, away from fires and pleasant drink to sit away at his desk and write. Winters were times to hone the lesser craft, and if it wasn't chopping wood from the forest or poaching the rivers of the errant fish that had forgotten the season time, it was learning the lessors. For Jereth it was the practice of pen, and for Naedren it was reading the world in the already written. Of course the beast would want of writing as well but found the wings and poor design of it's fingers to soon put an end to that. These books however were things as farm guides and living studies. Almanacs and star charters. Of course he is to pry the erotic texts from the Wyvern whom is so gifted in finding them, and no matter where he can set it, eventually Naedren shall find it. The preoccupation of it's interest and clever need in them is as amusing as it is concerning. Why a Wyvern is so fond of the writing is anyone's guess and Jereth would lesser want knowing and more to stopping. The salts are all but forgotten so soon as they produce nothing but the sniffling and sneezing more than lack there of Deviancy and misbehaving. At times he is at a loss for patience but he finds a difficulty to scold and punish the wyvern..oh how that might spoil it. It is more than reading however that Naedren grows in but words, and oh how plenty and more it can speak as if it were more man than Wyvern but man. Yet with every change in elegance of the tongue, the pronouncement of Jereth's name remains no matter how much he may correct the beast. Naedren knows this and It may very well be a secondary facet of the creature; cunning and taunting Jereth with a great teasing each day. Could get under the skin and yet Jereth is surprised to find himself so fond of the creature and so easily too. Their energy, the playful sway and nudging interests that the two share creates a persistent bond for them that he may even call the Wyvern a friend. Of course they are not always so proper with one another, and even to having their disagreements and storming but it is not so long they remain that way and soon they are close again. He is grateful of course and surprised for it's having grown into something far less dangerous than he imagined but something more cunning..and kind. Yet those abilities and growing are not such things that concern Jereth sometimes. When the sun surrenders to night and the sounds of the home withdraw so that the walls themselves may be holding their breath, Naedren comes with the same request it has from the start, and that stills Jereth's breath. Only in darkness and beneath the covers that the fumbling and daft actions lead to the act as it were. Though Jereth does best to assure himself that it is from necessity, the nightly pleasures leave an awkward taste in the mouth, and one he cannot clear so easily. The very thought of this way they both would call feeding, finds the lad wearyily sheepish and why should he not be? For him it is an act he cannot help but demonstrate in effusiveness and shame, and for Naedren it is dinner, however such maddening magics could ever manage. Yet certainly enough when the morning comes next the Wyvern is larger than before and grows larger so that one day the lad can no longer bear the weight on his shoulders and finds his companion wandering foot side. His mother and father are surprised and delighted if not confused and tickled to see the thing that could fit in a hand grown only so many days to be the size of a hunting dog! To the outsider's eye it might have moved as a dog following it's master down the frost cracked stones of the street. The smooth sheen of it's whitened scales tightly woven together as polished diamonds glint even on a grey day, it's tail as long and thick as a feisty snake. A pair of horns had begun their sprouting from it's heard to curve in, and the fine point of the beak belonging to Naedren had only grown finer and sharp. Truth be told if you saw close, the wyvern may have had the looks to being nasty. Though when a stranger would comment or reach for, Naedren was quick to recluse and hide away from the hands and at Jereth's side. When it came to the young ones who were loud as they were fast, Naedren might even gallop and hiss away down a lantern's way or two just to be rid of them. Always to return eventually and utterly miserable. " I do not like their incessant play nearly every day." and Jereth cannot help but chuckle at the coward's words. " Well you make it far too easy a sport with your running and chasing." Jereth in full humoring and the wyvern can only snort in return. " they grab at these things on my head and I do not fancy their being grabbed! Why they are beasties, nasty tugging on my tail for the pains of me! " it is only when they find themselves alone that they have these talks, or when in the company of Jaquin who is more and more astonished by the day seeing the wyvern so large, so well spoken and even eloquent in a way Jereth cannot imagine let alone see. And there is such talk of places and routes, the Casprin mountains and Fornyt's hall at the base. Of the red tides South of Sparrow where tare said to be Gryphons, oh dear what ever are Gryphons? Though the older man's fondness is not ignored, and Jereth uses the favor well, that the attention and company may better acquaint the idea of a new rider for parcel. He can see Jaquin ease more in more so that the older man speaks to Naedren almost the same he might to any other. Jereth can tell good things to come of it. " Cannot help but show myself off to them can you? All these troubles and clever use of ruse for this...job as it is?" Naedren mutters a mid day as the two roam in and out of the long path home. The wyvern is insightful, quick to catch on especially with anything Jereth has in mind before he can even act on it. It makes the boy wonder now and again of there being something more unique between the two. An awareness of some sort that illuminates Naedren to his thoughts. There is little misunderstanding and in that there is a fondness for their shared company which is near always. " Never mind of course. Sounds rather amusing that I might use these." and the creature is flapping mildly on the ground without half a heart in it. " Oh? Is that right then that you would wish to fly? Well what is stopping you?" and it does stop indeed in it's tracks not a moment later at the words. " You mean to tell me I can fly then? Just like that?" Jereth wants to laugh but can see the thin slits of dark in the red eyes, the unblinking stare as if it were waiting for something more. " ..Well aye, of course. You are a Wyvern!..That is what Wyverns do I imagine; fly and..other such things." and Jereth watches as Naedren stretches those wings in a great shudder, shake the shoulders and head " Well then I wish to fly!" " Then have at it and be off with you. Just remember the home you come from and not forget it." and before he can say another word with a sudden spring forward and thrust, Naedren is above and soon beyond Jereth into the setting sky. " Well damn me. Suppose they needed it." he watches until he can see no more than a speck in the distance and shrugs. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- " Now where is that Wyvern of yours? Not usual to see yourself without a mound of scales beside you." his father is asking from the hunch of his chair and smoke from a pipe. " In the sky I imagine. Some part of it anyway." and his father's brow raises " Finally flying, yet you let the thing wander away? And what is it then if it should not come back? Raised you better to not forget common sense as that, boy." but Jereth is not so worried, no. He sits by the fire and raises his hand to the flames to feel the warmth again. " They'll be back. They know where supper is." So they wait and wait, then wait some more until the fire is dimming for more wood. The folks are about to head off to bed and reminding Jereth of his foolishness until at the door comes a soft scratching. They're silent, wondering the devil the sound is and then more scratching at the door. Its when Jereth's father opens it that in crawls and hops Naedren and they are a mess of snow which they shudder off and onto the floor much to the dismay and objecting of Jereth's mother. " Well where have you sprung from then?" his father asks after Naedren, and to his relief, Jereth knows there will be no answer from the Wyvern among them. Their understanding for the trouble is enough. With a bellowed grunt it trods along to curl at the feet of Jereth and let out a deep sigh. " I did say it would be back. Clever thing." and his mother walks past in a tired hurry " Well do not let it track all over at this time! " a rag had been landed on his head to drape over the face. " Dry him off now while I find something. Imagine the dear is starving, you hardly ever feed it." Its with hesitation that he takes the rag and looks to Naedren who looks to him with that curious look as well. He's not been accustomed to cleaning the creature, in fact he's never bathed Naedren when it hasn't any smell to wash away to begin with. So it is with that hesitation that he brings the rag against the scales of it's back neck to trail along towards the tail. And Naedren is a spark of response, inching and arching, even clicking in some weird way from it's teeth in his doings. Very much clear of their enjoyment from the unaccustomed touch. To the folk it is a funny sight, and he can feel the Wyvern press against his hand so that he might know the cold and warmth of it's skin through the wettened rag. And he notices it's neck turned so that it's eyes may peer at his, and they are soft in an unfamiliar way. For Jereth it is a discomforting look and he cannot fathom why, so he hurries the drying into patting and stands from the chair once more, satisfied and doing best to ease the moment from his mind. " I think it best that we retire now and call it a night." he starts for his room " Wait, wait now!" his mother making a fuss and setting a dish of cut meat in front of Naedren. " There, last of the bird. " and the meat does not look so proper for eating " May have not been kept well enough but I imagine A wyvern's constitution is more noble than our own. " he can see the pleading and droop in the corners of Naedren's eyes but Jereth can only silently plead in return something be done between them. In a near blink of the eye, the Wyvern lowers it's head, opens it's maw and snatches the meat in a single bite vanishing it behind the beak and with that, proudly trotting along past Jereth and to his room. " Hardly even tasted it, must have been so hungry. " his mother said and took the dish and he bid them both a good night. When he'd shut the door to his room, Naedren had been lulling it's tongue in a hunch, the meat discarded in the far corner of the room. " Your mother has always meant well..yet I feel will be the very thing that sends up my spirit." what a peculiar thought actually, a glass wyvern with a soul. The ground and trees are of snowfall in the black and grey of night. The wind soft to press the window's glass and send the flame of candlelight in a dance. Its peaceful, quiet and cold. " Some luck on your side she did not find some other thing beneath our pallet. Well then, how was that flying of yours for the first time?" The wood of the bed's post creaks in the weight of Naedran occupying, and they are a stretching and sprawling. " Good. It was most good...to see the rivers and valley far below so that things as deer and other four legged creatures would appear no more than ants. My wings, they felt absolutely divine, you cannot imagine! To feel the air beneath and between them." and those wings stretched upward, the claws reaching as if for the ceiling in a proud display. " There are warmer places you know. Other towns and cities that do not even know the snow or grey sky! All these books and such a place with a flag..it feels so small and you wouldn't notice so well from the ground. " and the Wyvern is on it's back in quite the silly way, tail trailing off and to the floor. The bed itself is almost too small for the Wyvern now. " Cannot imagine you being so content for the days only here. I would want for it again. To fly I mean." Jereth cannot help but chuckle and draw near, sit himself on the bed's edge, and although he hesitates, brings a hand to the wyvern's chin to pet and stroke down the neck. At first the wyvern is motioned to flinch, the jaw seizing in a soft click but soon in a lax and a purring as some large cat. The very vibrations are a tickling to the hand. The touch and grooming may have been well for a cat and dog but odd for a talking and magical creature, and yet there was something near compelling in seeing this response that indulged a rather subtle pleasure in Jereth, and it was one he could not imagine placing knowledge on. " Are you asking me then? No sense keeping you away from all that. Its nature in you, and one can find it hard foregoing nature. Besides, I would not think the going off would prove in bad taste for mister Jaquin. Might help him knowing you were in for flying..That job and all." he can feel a single claw at his hand, a gentle pulling so that his fingers may travel further down the neck and to the thickened scales of Naedran's chest. He would not imagine a wyvern being so drawn in by petting as much Naedren seemingly is, and it crooned, stretched and shivered with the motioning of his hand. " Oh goodness me what you are doing..please do some more. I'm not supposing you have wings of your own do you..?" Jereth's tongue is subdued as his thoughts are wandering, the pulse in him growing. It is just a wyvern that he is petting yet the distinguishment does little to cull the gravity of his being shy to it. He believes stopping but he enjoys feeling the Wyvern as he never has before, and there is a compelling pleasure in pleasing it elsewhere, caring for it in such a different way. "..No. Nor claws or horns or any other such fancifuls that you things might have. You seem to be enjoying yourself." and indeed Naedren is with a sighing and curling of the legs near lifting from the bed. " Oh, I am. You never have done this..this touching of yours. Flying is good and all but not so much without company. I'll have to take you then as those riders are with their dragons." and Jereth laughs at the notion. " With your size and all? Could not carry me even if you wanted. Up we would go and a moment later down I would be, becoming acquainted with the ground. No thank you, mayhaps when your size is quite a bit larger than your ambition you silly creature...you would allow myself to ride you then..?" and Naedren nods with a greater vigor in their purring, a half lidded gaze in the eyes for indulging. In an odd and funny way there is a realization here, that Jereth seldom studied the wyvern, hardly at all among any of it to take in the finer details. To notice the errant scale a darker hue than the others, the rising ridges of it's chest that expanded with their breathing. The greying swirls among the wing's membranes and various little bumps among their arms and legs. His examining however is disturbed with a warm and wet feeling at his arm, and he finds with curious looking that Naedran is giving a soft licking, their eyes fully closed. Both his arms in a retreat, the boy snickers but feels a great unease in the action. " W-what, is that some form of grooming you're on about?" but the wyvern's eyes only open partially as if in a drift. " Oh, forgive me..I'm..not certain as to what I was doing." the wyvern becomes more aware and yet it's words are still slow, the tone off somehow. " Yes..well. Rest would be best. For both of us." He receded to the candle and blew it out so that the pale light, whatever was left of a moon, crept through the window and fully into the room. And a great silence came with the billowing smoke from the wick so that all one might hear was the distant sounds of the wind, the drop of snow outside the glass, and the rustling of leaves blown past. It's off with Jereth's cloak and soon the garments beneath until there is hardly anything left and he uneasily crawls unto the bed once more. Now usually for such a thing, Naedren would find their place on the floor or be there already for the matter, but the wyvern is held to the sheets as Jereth lays beneath the linens in the tight confines between bed and beast. " If it's not to the floor with you, would there be any mind rearranging yourself for my sleep's sake?" With only silence does Jereth feel the weight lifted, can manage to see the hind legs of the Wyvern lift and then turn in the dark with the glints of moonlight so that when they come back down they are further beside his and a snout has wormed it's way onto his pillow. A rather unusual thing for Naedren, and Jereth is doing his best to ignore it, but the Wyvern's body is near a gentle furnace, and it's breath is warm on his cheek. " Ja-reeth.." it's voice a near whisper that cannot help but bring the shudders from him. " ..hungry." of course it is, for it is night and the night is always for...that. " Ah, well..perhaps a wider space would help me in your..relieving." but the Wyvern isn't moving and is not saying a word further, only the soft breath can be heard, the rising and lowering of it's chest felt so that it may for all purposes seem it were asleep. He relents and finds a shivering in his own chest, a tenseness in his arms that shake at the very fingers as he goes on how he normally might. To press them beneath the fabrics of the loin and in a subdued way grasp himself and exorcise in the indulgence. Though the anxiety is far greater, the extra body nearer and in familiarity is that what scatters his thoughts and drys the tongue. He has never quite done it in such a way nor with such a setting, and the desperation of reminding him for the sake of necessity does little better to calm his nerves. His persistence drowns out the realizing more is happening around him until with a twinge of shock he finds Naedren's snout closer so that he might feel the full warm breath to his neck and cheek, and his heart finds it all the more daring to keep up with him for it! With every gesture of stroke he can feel the breath as if in the same drum, and with each further drawing of pleasure it grows deeper, faster with his own. Naedren as well finds an uncomfortable feeling, one that pushes at them even if they do not understand, but a thought comes to them for an action and they cannot help but follow it. The boy fidgets in a shock, nearly losing the sense of rhythm through the feel of a wet hotness at his neck and finds the wyvern's tongue caressing along it's side silently. He is to want objecting but the odd sensation is gentle, coarse yet intoxicating...enticing in the moment. The nudge of it's beak pressing to his cheek with the motion and the insistence brings with it a newer sensation that elevates the vulnerability of his eroticism. He can feel himself already nearing the peak and finds the draping of Naedran's wing around him in a firm hug, the snout pressed further to his neck with a passion and lulling of the tongue, a snort from the nostrils. He cannot help but stifle a moan, grunt from the additional cares and give himself into the finality. His entire body tensing and feeling everything wash over in a way Jereth has never known. So it is that he lays there in deep breath and taken aback fully; he wants to say something, a word, anything..but he does not for the grasp of rest takes hold of him and blurs the closing darkness. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Of course the wyvern is all smiles and honey in the morning, more so than usual and not a single word of the night before as if not a care in the world. Naedren feels wonderful and even gleeful of the experience to continue on the day as if not any of it happened. Jereth is not so easily forgetting it but neither wishes to talk of it either. What a dilemma that he feels can only be solved with silence. So he does his best to forget of such things, ignore the moral questions and consequences his mind provides or the odd recollecting of it. The days continue on and with it the size of Naedren grows, the features more defined and cut; the horns are a curling that not unlike a goat's, the snout a bit long, the tail certainly longer! They are near the size of a small horse as the many days pass! How on the early morning sun the Wyvern would vanish into the air in a great sounding of the wings sometimes for hours, and others for most the day, always to return eventually and scratching the door of the stead. All the while Jereth is ever more prevalent of his own duties and in fact cannot contain the news again and again to Jaquin or any other soul that can listen for that matter of Naedran's natural calling to fly. It may be the recognizing or the constant bashing of the idea from the boy but Jaquin indeed becomes more and more interested of the wyvern and even one day manages a passage log of sorts to Jereth by a month's end. " Now I've known of your wanting, and that Naedren had grown well a size enough fit to a riding. I have a task for yourself. Take of this passage, familiarize yourself with these valleys and mountains. Learn them well and.. Bring me...one of these." and he holds up a thickened red needle of pine that is pungent with the aroma near mint. " Saprin pine. They only grow from one area of these parts. Which, I dare not say and leave it to you. Bring one back for me and I will consider you and your Wyvern for a labor." There is a light in his heart, a spring in his hope! A plodding in his steps back and forth between the bed and desk of his room for the afternoon. " A Saprin pine. Saprin pine. Never heard of such a thing but surely it exists, of course it does." the pages cannot turn fast enough for him, and they are a blur of many places he cannot place a finger where to begin at all. And while Jereth is so busy with his frustrations and page turning, Naedran cramped as they are in a corner finds a frustration of their own. Though it has been following them more than the hour, the day and so longer. That a feeling can be found in the pit of their chest as a fluttering; rather uncomfortable the fluttering. And it is this fluttering which grows more and more around Jereth that the wyvern can hardly stomach the feeling for long; this compulsion that once was not so much in the earlier days but a small nagging is now a great thumping in the chest for fear and excitement. It is a stirring that travels from the ends of their horns to the tip of the tail, a shuddering that was so greatly eased when the human would touch and pet them. The relief of that touching some nights is overwhelming that Naedren finds a blurring of the thoughts and it may be that they are nearly dreaming almost. That gentle caress, the pulse beneath those fingers, the closeness brings an instinct that is shrouded yet so familiar. Some nights they might find their crowded way into the bed and request of the accommodations. They take in far more than they can remember taking in before; the scent from Jereth at those times is a banquet of the Earth and they cannot help but take of it in a deep breath that the head begins to swim and grow dizzy. The eyes would close and in that personal darkness are the dull flashing of lights, the spectrum of delightful shows, and they feel every motioning from Jereth as they lay beside them and recall the books and writing the boy would often hide from them. The deviant literature and lewd acts depicted of a man and woman in such unique ways. The kissing, fondling, trailing of the fingers and pleasures in so many vast ways...it is all so familiar to them..natural. There is a unique bond between the two of them, man and wyvern. This bond that familiarizes Naedren to Jereth so easily, at times profoundly certain to the boy's thoughts, feelings, and even sense of touch. It is that bonding which proceeds them so well to knowing Jereth, and more so to sharing in the indulgence of their own thrills, pleasures in a secrecy. The flying brings a great relief near similar some days, and that as they cross hills and streams they lose themselves in the speed, the rise and fall of their wings. The exertion is enticing and they see many things as fields of green and rising mists beyond fallen stone...and yet the feeling has slowly lost the satisfaction for them. The dips and weaves through the sky do not relinquish the same kind of pleasure, just as the closeness itself to Jereth does not relieve all of that frustration. Near but not enough. It is when certain thoughts cross their mind that they nearly lose themselves altogether in the heart of the moment. That the eye may open and find they are pressed to the boy some nights and trailing their tongue along his neck. The very taste hastens their breath and every strum of the heart beat is a separate desire that eventually are thoughts no longer of man and woman from the writing but of the beast itself giving such pleasures to Jereth. It happens time from time, and with every incident it is a desire harder to restrain. The boy is always shocked of the intrusion, never welcoming and yet eventually embracing of the intimate closeness. Yet neither proceed further for there is some sense in Naedren of loyalty, and to take of Jereth in such a manner almost seems of betraying that understanding, that reserve. As for Jereth, Naedran cannot be so sure. Nature has a way of grinding down loyalty however, of self promises to keep away from the carnal and cross... it is so natural to want. All very natural indeed. Naedren wants more than simple affections however or a pressing of the tongue. They want the roughness of being familiar, the strange and close embrace that heats the body and blood. The feeling is as a home, a recognizing of nature to Naedren..and that nature has been forgone. They think of this as they are now, watching with a firm gaze on the human who so hurriedly drags their feet among the floor boards in circles and uncertainties. They're a good lad if not dull at times. Always on about the ink and they mean well enough by it but that dull life makes them so very oblivious to the advances, or even to dare speaking of the nights Naedren feels weaker and crawls to his side. Their hand is often patient, without the stern punishment or whippings as the Wyvern has seen with the dragons of others some days. Of course Naedren cannot imagine Jereth to be so harsh at their worst, and their relationship is simply beyond owner and tool to begin with, at least that is the understanding. There is a certain admiration that the Wyvern has for him, but the teasing is far too gratifying to ignore and how they do love to see they can bring some reaction from the boy. In some way they feel it keeps Jereth from assuming them little more than an obedient pet, which is certainly what they are not. Jereth however is the only one able to provide what no other can, and the affairs of their..well, friendship, relinquishes that permitting of further pettings and inklings for more. They want the human, and that damned fluttering only presses the anxiety and thrill for that wanting. " What say you then? Have you seen a pine quite like this?" and the boy holds the needle to Naedren whom eyes it with a dull fascination. It is certainly not a time for thinking of pines. Though listen here, for as the larger of the event folds out before them, Naedren begins a thinking. These thoughts are crafty, clever, and a scheme for opportunity. A grin begins to form in their heart, and the cleverness is far too perfect, oh yes too perfect indeed! " I see many red things when I fly. Small things only grow smaller as if they were not there at all..however. There may have been such a place where many brooks gather and hardly a soul can be found. There is much red there and many trees. I could..take you if that would be pleasing?" and Jereth is nodding his head so eagerly and readily it might well come off. He is smiling and confident for his own plans! Naedren can feel all of it, every twinge of excitement and anxiety for the thrill, and they feel it as well for their own. " You are a marvel! Oh I cannot wait for the life of me!" the Wyvern nearly feels bad that their head is pet, the chin held as Jereth rests his head to their own in an affection. Yet it is a fleeting bad, the kind forgotten by wants and desires, lost to plans leaving the two alone and in such a place they might have certain privacies. Naedren believes it can persuade him, can make arrangements and sway his desires. All it would take was the right kind of coursing, the proper word or two..and of course a bit of luck. Now mind you there are red trees where Naedren thinks of..perhaps even pine for the matter. There has to be. So they plan the day away and pull at the pages and the maps made therein, and it would look very peculiar that the Wyvern was patiently guiding the boy with the passages of the book. Naedren is wise of such things and it may not have hurt they were more recognizing of the larger plots and area. Certainly more than Jereth who had only ever traveled by horse in the blanketing forests of cold once or twice through trade roads. In that sense they were innocent of recognizing the terrain of the landscape, and not finding any rouse of suspicion that this area Naedren swore of was rather isolated indeed. The creature was in fact a fine teacher for the matter and they might have left that very same day were the night having crept on them as reminder. One did not want to be out in the dark of night. If it were not just the cold, then it were other things that walked in it and never stopped. If you listened closely then, you might hear the distant howling of a wolf from somewhere in the twisted branches and still snow. A flying thing as a raven might screech into the sky, flying from many places elsewhere and here yet another. Jereth bellows a sigh from beneath the blankets and finds for something to clean himself. " Thankyou Ja-reeth." Naedren rumbles in a soft way that betrays their urging and insisting need. Even this givings of that night are close to nothing and they find a heat growing in the depth of their stomach for it. They could splinter the board beneath their nails, and they view through near closed eyes as the human sits up in his bed awhile. The white of moonlight basking over them from the window to illuminate the pale skin. A handsome creature...the sight cannot bring morning quick enough. " You are sure of this then, being able for my weight?" Jereth is hesitant in bringing his leg over the kneeling creature in the morning light. The day is quite a deal early and there is no other awake in the house so out passed the front door and steps have the two crept for the travels. " Don't imagine you more than I could eat...if I ate." Naedren chuckles, bucking softly to firmly plant the boy at their shoulders and back. Of course the robes are a great deal thicker that day for him and both their breaths are like smoke in the cold air. He steadies himself from the unfamiliar shape and finds it so very odd in contour, and there is no harness to be grabbing; what a fool's errand this might turn out to be. " You will be tame this flight of yours? No fancy ways or showing off?" Jereth is feeling for the book in his pockets and hoping it not to be lost from him. " A slow ride for our worth being well. Do hold on to my neck Ja-reeth." He can feel the lifting, both his feet leaving the ground and the wyvern taking in a deep breath as they shudder and shake. He holds to the neck and finds it a great deal more forgiving than the nip of the air. With that they start down the the path and how the bumping and bouncing labors will pain for them both he imagines. Though he has ridden before on horses, there is a new thrill and terror in all this. And without further warning, the trodding becomes a near gallop in an instant so that the breath would leave Jereth altogether on the ground below. The wings spreading in a blur and the kick from the dirt that a weight pulls down on Jereth so that he would believe he might fall through the Wyvern altogether. He cannot help but let out a yell when it comes to him, and the baron branches of the trees are soon darting past as they rise higher and higher until they are well above them. With each foot of height, Naedren's wings heavily flapping with a great sound in them. His head is spinning and he near feels to darkening at the edges of his eyes, so he presses his face to the back of Naedren's bobbing neck. He might fall. His eyes closed, time loses meaning to him and the only world is the thumping of his heart, the fogging of his head and loss of breath. He is not sure of when but eventually he can feel less of the tugging down, find an eye cracking open so wearily to see the rising and lowering wing, and the vivid mixing colors of the valley below for things as the white of snow, the untouched green of places that know lesser of winter still, and the divine purple stones of the darkened mountains. The wind is powerful but his eyes do their best to remain out of the offending drafts. Below his dangling feet is the great fall below and yet the fear is not so readily apparent as Jereth imagined. " You said a slow ride for us you deceiving creature!" the boy yells through the air, and Naedren bellows a laugh sharp and deep. " This is slow for myself, and low flying! Air up further is far too piercing!" their form shifts, leans deep into the left that Jereth grabs to the neck even tighter for the fear of falling. The weight in a way is unsettling and unfamiliar to Naedren. The bearing down both on the shoulders and neck creates a particular strain, but the exhilaration sets past that inconvenience. Naedren can feel a seperate weight, a kind of odd fascination and pleasure having such closeness that the fluttering would near be bursting from the pit of their chest then and there. They are this for some a while, the twisting and turning through the air, soaring above the snow covered forests until there is a lessor of the white, and soon none at all. That the sun begins to appear from the horizons as a golden orb breaching all below it. Jereth can see now past the beating wings; through low bearing clouds he can see a massive fall in the near distance, the various brooks and currents throughout a forest whose colors defy all others in a brilliant orange and red of the surrounding nature. The descent is sudden, the wings lessening their movement in the fall as they soon come to meet the earth once more. The ground is a blanket of fallen leaves, a welcome for Jereth whom disembarks the wyvern and is near shaking to lay in them. " Will you fare?" Naedren looks to the lad on his knees and fumbling for the book in his pockets. " I will, I will..just..need to appreciate a sitting for a small while." he's mumbling, deep in breath and in pages as he tries his best to make sense of where they might have traveled. Its not long until he is back on his feet and wandering in a direction, stumbling among the leaves and hidden things beneath them as root and rock. Naedren is not far behind of course and is entertained by the act, and soon they are a light prancing at his side to loom. " If I am recognizing from what I saw..then.." his breath pausing as he wracks the brain, oh how these logs are an infuriating mess still. " Do not tell me.." another turning page and pause "..here. Somewhere here." his fingers tap among the running lines. " So you remembered. Not bad..perhaps even adequate, Ja-reeth." he turns to find a grin on the wyvern's beak and rolls his eyes. " Lord give me patience." This forest is a shroud of reds many, divided by the near black bark of the many trees there within. Where fingers of light reach down from the opening to sky. It is a near quiet place where not even birds can be heard singing. No, the only sounds to be heard of are the distant falls of roaring water, and the near traveling brooks and streams for which there are indeed many that they find. Such a curious place without a speck of any other; no wolves nor foxes, bears or snakes and it is unnatural in a beautiful kind of way. Yet with all there being trees there are hardly any to be found that have a needle in them, and by such, that is to say there is none. Here there are groves of fallen branches and rotting stump, the grasses and ferns having overtaken them finally for the last laugh. Patches of bloom and wild flowers the petals spilling for none to see in this isolation. And what is this then that there are trails having been tread that life does not prevail. Steps of the earth carved but by whom? Who is to say really? Certainly not Jereth whom can only speculate there once having been more here but certainly not now. No rising smoke nor clear cut paths; a twisting plot after plot of untouched wilderness.Time here cannot so easily be figured, but both are certain they have taken a lot of it. Now and again through a clearing, Jereth watched for the sky, could see the swirls of grey give to a blue, and that blue begin to darken. In their resting that would recur, Jereth would eye through the thickets of the darkening brush. His feet were certain to be a mess of blackings and bruises having walked so long a way, and the uneven grounds are a reminding how spoiled his steps have become. Naedren suggests their flying again but the curiosity, the pride of this boy keeps them going on foot. Somewhat admirable, more folly for a fool but alas they keep at it. It is at a stream they have stopped and the sky is at ends with a blue and purple that Jereth sighs and bites into a biscuit near the water. His eyes are to the book once more figuring the distance while Naedren basks on a great rock. " Should have brought something of me for a reminder. A pass of ink, a quill maybe for keeping our record straight." He is about to take another bite when he notices a fine thing float by in the water. A sliver of red not alike a leaf and he is off following it before the current pulls it too far. He is certain of it, near dives in for it but manages to snatch it from the waters and holds up a broken and fine ended needle of red that smells of mint. "Saprin." he is grinning and returning the other way past Naedren " Saprin! Saprin pine, we're nearing! I know we are! " and the wyvern follows after, trailing with him on the edge of the stream, sometimes ahead of him even. They are climbing wettened stones and fighting uphill in their trotting until they can see in the shallows, a mere pocket of water there is a twisting stump and in those twisting are a great many pines that are all red. Jereth is dredging the waters, soaking his boots for nearing it! How excited he is and snatching at not one or two but plenty to fill the other pocket of him, and they all smell of mint! He pulls back onto the land with a great sighing of relief and is near buckling on his legs before Naedren. He is near out of breath for the worth and beaming with pride that he has done it and proven for the job!..Well with a bit of help of course. " I think we can be on our way then and to mister Jaquin. Could not have done all this without your helping, Naedren. You have my gratitude. " and Naedren is grinning in return, a kind to show of the teeth. " What is a rider without their ridden? Although perhaps you could humor me a moment as our day has well been spent. These legs of mine are not so used to the working and perhaps neither of yours. What say if were to postpone the flying for only a little. Enough to rest the foot..?" Of course Jereth is near back in a hurry but he can see Naedren already tromping towards a bent tree and laying on their side beneath the shade. Doing as Naedren may do now and again, pretending to ask when their mind is already made. Of course the Wyvern is nowhere at all tired and in fact their legs are just fine. The pine has been found and that weight is lifted, an extra prize and one less intruding thought for their planning. Jereth is of course inclined and admits only to himself that the toll of all that time has made him soar; the idea of a great bucking and flying might well not go as well as the first. He nears the tree, about to bring himself to a knee. " The shade is a bit cooler now, and the bark is not so comfortable to lean against. Why not allow my warmth for you?" Naedren is near cooing that they might stare to him and unfold their wings in a slant as if an opening to their chest. The boy chuckles and shakes the head, bringing himself closer to sit between the wings and lay back against the scales. " You are a noodle at times." He sighed and closed his eyes for the moment. How great it felt to rest from it all. He can feel the heart beating of Naedren, and Naedren can feel both their own beating in the same time. They can hardly stand it, the anticipation and torturing need. Yet they remain well composed, loose even as if not a care in the world to the outside eye. Oh dear, oh dear..how they could lose themselves that very moment, and how far more intruding that intoxicating scent is that the boy gives off, even past the burning odor of mint. " You are quite vigilant when you are wanting to be, Ja-reeth." and Jereth can only hum in return. " I quite admire that, even share at times in the persistence. Of course that thing of time will well be taken of sooner than later. " with their words, Naedren is careful to bring their claws and brush the soft ends at his shoulders. " I won't be disagreeing on that with you. Low hell, I'm believing you outrun myself in that way." Jereth chuckles and does not seem opposed to the touch. He's pulling for the book again and thumbing through some pages half heartedly. " Of course this has been a wanting for a long time, and coming when I had my heart set on it. Mind you I never imagined a companion of your standards to be talking and showing me up for it on this day. Fate has a way of doing that to you, being tricky." he can feel the weight of the snout at his shoulder, the leaning into and hot breath. " I would quite agree, but here we both are now and your propositions before you. A fine young man, able bodied and ready for trade..seldom spoken yet wanting. Why the only thing that seems outside your bearing is..a mate." Jereth can only shrug in his half mind for it. " Has not been on the crossing my way. Some men are needing a woman fine or some other but my sights are elsewhere..and..well aren't you well spoken on such matters this day?" he gives a gentle shove at the end of Naedren's beak and they take it only to press it closer with a sigh. " Of course I am. What if I were to confide in you that I found a needing that wanted crossing that way? " they are near a murmuring and their breath quicker for it. " Well it has only been no more than a month and a half for your..well..your beginning? Sure this is a time for all that rubbish?" and he can feel the claws press in further, kneading at the stiffness in his arms. " What of months or years or not..? Your wyvern would be needing some care.." The words bring a certain discomfort to Jereth, but it is the soft tone to it that puts him in unease most. It is unusual for Naedren to be so soft. " Well I'm..supposing we could find you..a dragon or some other..?" He nearly bucks from his sitting to feel the hot and wet trailing of Naedren's tongue at their ear. A gentle and firm nibble from the beak down the neck. " ..I do not need of dragons." they are a great purring, and Naedren can hardly bare it any longer. They can feel the pulse run faster in Jereth, the confused thoughts in a mess of gibberish and sudden unfolding realization but they know the boy can feel something that is not so distanced nor unaware of the implications. " Naedren..a-are you suggesting..?" but the Wyvern does not say a word, only noses it's snout to his neck to relish in the feeling. The book comes closed and in a hurry Jereth is shrugging away the wing and snout and getting to his feet. His cheeks are a reddening in being flustered, and his expression is a great perplexing. " Now see here, I am not in the business for-for..whatever you may believe in!" but Naedren only smiles, partially far too needful and intoxicated to be bothered. " ..And what I might be believing in then..?" Jereth wants to laugh but stifles; he wants to believe it a teasing but he is unsure. " You know!.. A man being..familiar with a beast." he is inclined to speak further and stands in an awkward silence. " Ja-reeth.." Naedren is near cooing again " You are young and full of vigor..proper for many things and many needs. As am I. Neither of us having something of a means for want..well..one of ourselves anyway. We have been already familiar in a way.." the Wyvern shivers with soft laughter and near sprawling on the ground. Of course they are near terrified, uncertain truly how Jereth will in the end be, but they make a show of the proposition and do so without any fail. " I am your Wyvern..and my needs are for knowing you like no other..if you found the indulgence of my closeness before, well..I have so much more to entertain you with. " they flick their tongue as a snake might and recede it back with a smile in the maw. Jereth cannot say a word, just staring and unbelieving in what he is hearing, what he is seeing..what he is considering. " I would need of you, Jereth..and have needed only you for some time." the words are dipped in a sensuous tone and they have a way of sparking shadows of thoughts in the boy's head. He is near appalled to believing that a part of himself is even intrigued, wanting. Naedren knows this as well. " That is not my trouble!" he stuffs the book in his pocket and turns away to distance himself and walk. To where, he knows not, and he does not know why either if only to escape the sight. Yet before he can take more than two steps he finds the world turning around him, the unbalance in his step from a thick thing as a tail curling about the heel. He presses to the bed of leaves and they are flung to the air all around him for doing so. Before he can raise from them, a weight bares down on his back and Jereth finds himself pinned easily by the Wyvern. " Oh come now! What is all this then?! Will you not end this and just obey your master?!" and Naedren laughs at the boy's anger, his desperation. " I am not a pet, Ja-reeth..but I do enjoy authority from you now and again..whatever sense of it." He finds the claws holding at his hands, both tight as fists in the dirt. He breaths in deeply, rests his forehead to the leaves and turns his head in the futility " ..I'm not supposing we can just forget all this then? Leave here and not say a word of it? Ever again?" the Wyvern dips it's head to nuzzle at his neck and whisper. " ..No." he struggles once more, tries against the weight and cannot for his life move any part of him but his neck or the kicking of his legs for not. " Ja-Reeth....Jereth." Naedren is soft once more to his ear and the very tone of it brings a shiver to him. " What if I were to tell you we could forget all this...on an agreement?" he sighs with frustration but listens without a word. " Entertain the idea..allow me to care for you..for however long until you are not pleased. If there is no joy in it..I will relent this, make certain it is never even imagined again...but please allow for me to try with you.." he can feel the nibbles upon his neck once more, and Naedren can feel that breaking down for it. " ..Let me please you." Jereth shudders from the tongue brought to his ear and the attention is no longer ignorable. " Fine." he mumbles beneath the leaves. " I am a man to be struck down for this..but fine. Have your way..b-but I will hold your word to this and at my say..we stop when I say to stop. Then never again!" the weight is less on him, the claws receding so that he no longer had fists but a lax in them. He turned further so that his back would meet the ground and he stared up to Naedren, still pinned beneath the Wyvern who too stared back with a look of absolute delight having finally seized their prize. " How would we..proceed this..?" he cannot help but stare away in the shyness. Naedren however is beyond that now; beyond shyness and reserve. Their mind is a fields of many ideas and the one that comes first is it lowering it's head so that the nose might meet his. " You know..you have always looked rather handsome to myself." Naedren purred, and before he could answer proper, felt it's tongue to his lips in a soft lulling. Gentle, insistent that it might find it's way in between them and to meet his own. Naedren sighs into this, nudging their beak to his lips as if in a kiss. The strange texture of it's tongue is coarse but prehensile to press and wrap around his own, and Jereth can only taste of something sweet in it. With every press they can feel the response from Jereth growing more excited, giving. At first he is quite opposed but the sensation is erotic, pleasing that he cannot help but give in. The experience is indescribable for both themselves, and soon Naedren has recoiled away to stare down at him once more. His face is a flush of red and his breath is out of sorts having never done such a thing before. The wyvern is almost the same way and breathing heavily through the nostrils. " Am I mistaken? You look to already be enjoying yourself." Jereth just rolls his eyes " Always this teasing with you even when you want something as this! I cannot begin to understa-" and his words are cut short as Naedren presses back to him in it's strange way of kissing. He grunts from the intruding tongue, his arms need to holding something and finds the Wyvern's back neck. Naedren is lively, their tail thumping hard into the ground. They pull away, trail the tongue along his cheek and down to his neck. Their other claw is at his robe and tugging for anything out of the path. Of course there is no proper way for Naedren to remove any clothes, and Jereth is quick to unbutton and tuck away at whatever might slow the beast lest it be torn off! His pants are tugged, near dragged fully off by Naedren in the haste and they find the bulge beneath the last of his garments to peak in a reveling sight. To think the moment has come. Jereth is petrified with a fear of the unknown and he is blind to what could come next. He has a disbelief in himself doing any of this and a part of him is wanting to call a stop to it then and there. To not allow this act on further with of all things, A wyvern...a friend..but another part, the larger of it wants to know and feel more. Naedren shifts, pulls further back to lay on it's side and rest it's head on his stomach, a wing around the fullness of his leg. The last of his wear is pulled away to allow the cold air running along his full erection. Naedren is quick to warm it again with the curling of it's tongue along the whole of his shaft and soon blankets it in the thick saliva. The very feel is like a bursting light of various pleasures and exotic textures to Jereth who cannot help but grasp at Naedren's horn and buck his hip in surprise. The taste is overwhelming for Naedren, and the holding hand encourages their tightening of the tongue, squeezing and gripping him without reserve. He thinks that is the end of it until Naedren positions their head, blanketing Jereth's manhood in tongue once more and bringing their snout ever closer to it. Naedren stares to him with a half open eye as if waiting or even wanting him to lead. The boy cannot help but feel the weight of conscious in the act, and this may be his final chance to put an end before it may begin of regretting all this. His hand holds to Naedren's horn with a small shaking in it and gives a gentle tug, yet it is not away but closer, encouraging Naedren to lower their head. The Wyvern is all smiles, further opening their maw. Closing it's eye fully, it engulfs the entirety of him past the beak with a deep and content sigh. The instinct is far too natural for Naedren whom gives a hearty suckling and is soon bobbing their head in his lap. Their very going at it in passion without relent, the Wyvern noisily nursing on his crotch with a wet and needful pressing. The leaves are swept around, thrown by it's excitable tail, and Naedren's grunting around their work hungrily. The very pulling and tightening of it's mouth is a profound and exotic experience for Jereth, and every moment he feels the sense of understanding, Naedren is aware and pulling away, teasing the head with an assault of licking and then forcing him back inside the beak with a humming and pleased purr. There is a guilt in Jereth that he finds soon enough, and that guilt is in how agreeable he is with what is happening. That his mind was so set against all this and that the warning signs were so easily leading up to it happening.. he was just as easily swayed otherwise by Naedren. His eyes are closed and his sounding of pleasure is near impossible to stifle. The foreign textures of the Wyvern's mouth is an alien feeling to which there can be no equal, and yet it felt so perfectly pleasing as if it were meant for such a thing by it's nature. The persistent ridges of the mouth's roof tug and press against his shaft to create the sounds of a soft popping and he is all the more excitable when it happens every favor. Naedren listens, relishes in Jereth's moaning out, the breathless murmurings of it's name from him, and he is nowhere near the want for them to stop now. They indulge further, slide the tongue along the underside of his shaft and near piston his length in and out their mouth. Jereth can hardly speak for it, his hips held firmly by the talented Wyvern to allow it all the work. Naedren can feel him further tensing, the misting throbs of pleasure and energy given from Jereth only growing more in time and attention. " N-Naedren I..believe I'm going to.." the words can hardly leave the boy's mouth he is so occupied; Naedren hearing this takes his length further in and with a greater suckling and insistence. Their own mind is a cloud in the moment with a driving desire of many moons, and that desire is wanting of this finish in a grand flare. They're near growling around hi length in a wet mess and it isn't long that Jereth is squirming in futility, unable to fight his nearing climax. With a great shuddering, he cannot even bellow out a word, vainly trying to buck his hips. Naedren can feel the sudden thick blanketing of their tongue, the odd taste of Jereth's seed pumped with every twitch of the shaft. The taste is rousing and the Wyvern is quick to gulp it down as if drinking for the very first time. The fluttering as it were is vanishing away for Naedren and in it's place is utter contentment. Their eyes could nearly roll back they find such satisfaction in drinking of him. As Jereth begins to settle once in more an exhausted and pleased mess, Naedren indulges a few more gentle nursing, relinquishing his shaft once more and giving tender licks to him to clean of their deed. Both lay there in the embers of their union, one clove and honey, the other..well he is not sure what to think. The moment was a mountain of spontaneity, physical need, and there having been such excitement leading up to..this. Jereth had enjoyed it, gods had he enjoyed it, and that made him wonder how much of him wanted such a thing to begin with. He had certain cares and appreciations for Naedren, and their cunning, intelligence and discussions brought a relationship beyond that of a serving and leading. Though he could seldom concede it, he found they were more of familiars and equals, even if at times the Wyvern knew the best ways to grate at him. Yet those evenings and nights, the obligations and rituals of their understanding left him at an awkward roads for a long while. One that made him realize why he had been so vastly uncomfortable for so long whenever the Wyvern would draw close or that he might find reluctance in those innocent pettings. In some way, Jereth felt an inkling of distant attraction to the Wyvern and he did near perfect to hide it even from himself in an aggressive denial. These thoughts found him as he lay there above the leaves and staring into the branches high above. He felt the shifting weight, found the familiar red eyes to draw closer as Naedren crawled above him once more with a pleased rumbling in it's chest. " So..was being familiar with a beast so displeasing, Ja-reeth?" their tone is coy, and they already know the answer. He closes his eyes, cannot help but chuckle and rub his forehead with a sigh soon after. He is not sure how to feel if it is embarrassment for what he has done, shame for the accepting of it...but in some way he feels pleased, even peaceful. His eyes open again to look into the Wyvern's own " ..no. You were a marvel." Naedren is lit up with purring and settles on him once more, drooping it's head on his chest and flicking the tongue at his chin. They lay there in silence for some time only listening to the sounds of the water and falling leaves of the darkening woods. " ..Does this mean I am some deviant of interest in fornicating things as Wyverns..?" Jereth may be half serious and half humoring in the question. " Mayhaps..there is always a chance to figure for yourself next time." Naedren is already ahead of him and considering a next time. They certainly have a nerve..but could he turn them away now? A gate had been opened and it lead them down to a new understanding; was it weakness that Jereth had for Naedren, or was it willingness? Folks would frown on knowing any man laying with a dragon or some other beast. There would be hell to pay even. What they had done changed many things for their company and furthered the implications of things that could go wrong for both of them. Nothing is ever so innocent and without a price. His mind wanted to further start and dread, but Naedren was warm and near; his hand stroked along their head and felt the soft scales. They needed to leave soon for it was sure to be a cold night. They could wait a moment longer..just a moment longer. To Be Continued.