Induced by Trauma

By Valsotic

***

​	“I’m an honest dragon… I-I’m an honest dragon, I swear…!”

​	The drake sniveled and shivered, shaking his head in dismay. His words, insistent though they were, were nonetheless fearful and soft spoken. Gone the moment they were uttered. Under normal accommodations his voice would be able to bounce appreciably from one wall to another. But this was no room for the normal, and these were no ordinary walls. They were thick and padded, proof of sound and injury. He would not be allowed to hurt himself anymore, they had made sure of that…

​	One of the two seated men, a vulpine priest, grimaced, the moonlight pouring through the barred window behind him shining just right to illuminate the rather nasty, prominent gash over the drake’s cheek…

​	“Of course,” a separate, smooth voice conceded, the bear resting his paw softly over his vulpine friend’s lap. He looked down to him and sighed, before returning his attention back to his patient. Still he was shaking, wriggling and squirming against his restraints…

“That’s what we want to believe, sir,” the bear continued. “But you have to understand, your circumstances are… strange to say the least. Believe me, we want to give you every benefit of the doubt, but we need to understand where you’re–”

“Doubt?!” the drake screamed suddenly, startling his interrogators. “But why?! Why, why, why?! I haven’t done anything wrong! Th-This… this room is for crazy people. I-I’m not crazy!!”

The drake stared, desperation in his golden, reptilian eyes. But eventually his constitution fell, and he couldn’t help but enter another episode of whines and sobs, rocking to and fro, his chains jingling eerily. The two seated men were silent, unsure as to how to continue…

“I know what I saw…” the drake muttered suddenly, whimpering. “I know what I saw, dammit! I felt it… experienced it… with all my heart and soul. A-And you… you can’t take that away from me! No matter how hard you try!!”

“W-We have no intention to, my child!” the fox stuttered. “Of course, it is as you say! B-But… perhaps you might consider enlightening us? We just want to understand what happened. Right, doctor?” He looked to the bear, who nodded in agreement.

“Please, sir…” the ursine encouraged. “Tell us. You’re… a good dragon. But you’re broken. Afraid. We’re here to help, but first you have to help us. Please, tell us everything. From the beginning…”

The drake huffed and panted, tears dribbling down his cheeks. Some seeped into his wound, which only made him cry more. Through the pain, though, he eventually managed to look up: beyond two scary men seated before him, and beyond the barred window poised just above. Despite the bars reminding him ever more of his unfortunate predicament, somehow the moonlight seemed to calm him. Just enough to allow him to manage his breathing, slow his heartbeat, and quell his tears…

Finally, he took a deep breath…

“Th-They…” he muttered. “Th-They were my best friends…”

The fox’s ears perked up.

“Y-Your… b-best friends?” he queried. The drake nodded feverishly, panting heavily.

“Th-They…” he continued. “They were my everything! And now they’re… oh god oh god oh god…!”

​	“Shhh…” the bear soothed. He cringed, sensing both his vulpine friend’s unease, as well as the patient’s. It was a tough subject to talk about, evidently… but they had to know more if they wanted to proceed…

​	“It’s okay, sir. It’s okay…” the bear cooed, scribbling some notes down with his quill and parchment. “These friends of yours. Tell us about them. What were their names?”

​	The poor drake had to take several moments to catch his breath… but somehow,

	someway, he eventually managed to. He looked again to the moon, tears streaming freely down his cheeks…

​	“D-Daniel and… a-and Mary,” he replied solemnly. “D-Daniel… a s-sweet, cute red-eyed cottontail. A-And Mary… sh-she was a doe. A white tailed doe with such… striking green eyes. She was the s-s-sweetest, m-most kindest one… y-you’d ever meet. Oh, god… oh god, oh god…”

​	The fox paused briefly, opening his mouth to speak, but the bear’s firm yet calming paw rested again over his thigh, and he remained quiet.

​	“W-We…” the drake continued. “We were hiking the trails near here. I-I-In the forest,

th-the mountains. I-It was an… adventure.” He paused, and cringed. “S-See… w-we always did this kinda stuff… as far back as I can remember. We grew up far away from here. So, so far away. Th-They were born there, though, I-I… I moved there with my father when I was a kid. Our kind…” the drake motioned to the three of them - the bear, the fox, and the dragon himself - and they nodded in somber understanding. “Our kind… w-wasn’t well liked. Th-They… f-feared us. Didn’t trust us. Ran away from us. The adults… m-maybe weren’t quite as bad, but… it was really hard to make friends with the kids, even the few other sharp-tooths…”

​	The drake paused momentarily, closing his eyes and shaking his head…

​	“B-But they… they gave me a chance.” he continued. “Other sharp-tooths would constantly steal their gold, push them around. I couldn’t stand it anymore, a-and one day I just… snapped!” He almost chuckled at the memory. “I didn’t win the fight, of course. And I basically ruined any chance of me making friends with any of the other sharp-tooths. But… they hugged me. Daniel and Mary. They cared for me. I-I can still remember how astonished Daniel’s father looked when he saw his little kid caring for a wounded dragon, on his very own bed. Sweet, sweet Mary beside us… giving me potions… singing me songs. I had… won over their hearts… and despite the pain, I… I was so, so happy. From that day forward, wh-whenever we got off work, l-like for holidays… w-we went on so many adventures together. Traveling the world. It was so magical… and we were always together…”

​	The fox smiled warmly, tail wagging slowly behind him.

​	“That’s truly lovely” the vulpine cooed, nodding with understanding. “They sound like very wonderful people. And you’re so brave, to have protected them so! I’m sure they really appreciated that…”

​	The fox’s smile soon wavered along with the drake’s as he saw him again beginning to shiver…

​	“Y-Yeah…” the dragon muttered. “Protect… protect them. I promised… I-I’d always… p-p-protect them…”

​	Awkward silence filled the room. The fox, once again, found himself looking nervously at his bear companion, who was still writing down a couple notes. Once complete, the bear stole a glance to his vulpine companion, smiled sadly, then looked back to the drake, who was again beginning to hyperventilate…

​	“You sound like a very noble dragon,” the bear commented. “Thank you for sharing that with us. It really helps…” The bear, evidently, was as intimidating as he was tender. It was clear from the way he spoke he truly did not mean the drake harm, and if the circumstances were normal, would like nothing more than to talk about warm memories from the past…

​	But unfortunately, as a simple press into the cushioned walls reminded him… these conditions were far from normal…

​	“But,” the bear continued. “Despite your many ‘adventures’ together… you were no professionals, were you?”

​	The drake’s mouth dropped slightly. He began to shiver, looking down at the floor, ashamed, as the fox looked quizzically up to his ursine companion…

​	“Sir, please…” the bear pressed, a look of sorrow over his face. “I know it’s difficult to talk about. But… I want to help you. In order to do that, I need to–”

​	“I don’t need help!!” the dragon suddenly screamed, the two seated men recoiling in shock. “Y-You said it before… I-I’m a good dragon! A n-n-noble dragon! S-So… wh-what more is there to talk about?! J-Just… l-lemme go, dammit!!”

The dragon uttered a bloodcurdling scream. The kind of scream that is painful to hear. The bear’s constitution, if for just a moment, seemed to break down, and he bit his lip, shaking his head in dismay…

The fox, meanwhile, clutching the religious pendant around his furry neck, had newfound resolve. A cool wind blew against the old stone building. He breathed deeply, and sighed.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, perking up suddenly. “That’s right! It was a holiday not too long ago, was it not?”

Instantly, the dragon’s exertions stilled. The bear looked to his friend, and the fox nodded happily, as his attention shifted again to the drake.

“That’s when you went on this latest adventure of yours?” he asked with a smile. “It was certainly a blessed occasion for it. You know, sir, hehe, it may seem somewhat obvious in hindsight, but the word ‘holiday’ is actually derived from the words ‘holy’ ‘day!’ Gods watch over us in these splendid times. I have no doubt that whatever misadventures you and your friends may have gotten into, nothing was done in evil. You’re a good dragon. You’re a blessed dragon. And Gods know it. But it’s just… we have to know for sure.” The fox looked up to his ursine friend, who looked rather astonished, then back to the dragon, still sobbing and shivering amongst his binds…

“For our sake… and for yours.” the fox finished. “Please, my child… won’t you tell us?”

There was a long period of silence, broken apart only by the sobs and whimpers of the dragon. The fox, for his part, remained steadfast. It was a surprising turn of events for the ursine, but not an unwelcome one. He placed a paw on his friend’s thigh, caressing the soft vulpine fur, smiling softly at his foxy companion…

“We got… l-l-lost…”

The bear’s ears perked up.

“Lost?”

The dragon nodded.

“I-It was horrible…” he elaborated. “S-Somehow… we took wrong turn. W-We only realized hours later, b-but just when we did, we… o-or, Daniel and I… accidentally smashed our compass against a rock. Our map was all but useless. And we were running short of rations. So terribly, terribly short…”

The dragon’s golden irises started to fidget like mad. The two seated men simply watched on, utterly captivated…

“Do you know the horrors…” the dragon began. “Of being lost? Not having any clue where to go? Knowing that any step you take could unknowingly send you in the complete wrong direction. Knowing that your corpse, in all likelihood… will never be found. We started off optimistic enough. But slowly, these… intrusive thoughts began to plague every single one of us.”

The two seated men once again remained speechless. The fox, in particular, was beginning to shake in his boots, his charisma all but gone…

“But I tried to stay strong,” the drake huffed. “I had to stay strong… for them. B-Because… e-every time we’d sit around the campfire, trembling and cold, I’d always be the one in the middle, trying to make them warm. Because every time I’d look into their sorrowful, terrified faces as we aimlessly wandered the woods… I’d see them perk right up, once they saw I was looking back at them. Because they knew… I-I would protect them. I-I… I-I promised them… I’d always protect them… no matter what…”

The dagon cringed, his lips trembling with sorrow. Then, finally, his head fell, and he loosed a deep and dreadful sigh…

“But then… that’s when we found that cave…”

The fox’s ears splayed.

“A-A cave?”

The dragon gritted his teeth.

​	“Th-That damn, miserable place!!” he swore. “W-We had gone there to seek shelter. T-To get our bearings. B-But… i-it was a mistake. Oh, god, it was a mistake. Why, why, why?!”

​	The bear, himself quite shaken, paused briefly, writing a couple notes with his quill before clearing his throat…

​	“Why, indeed.” he pressed. “What… happened in there, sir?”

​	The drake, beside himself in terror, shook his head rapidly for several moments, struggling in his chains. A sorrowful but stern “sir!” from the bear made the dragon gasp, and he whimpered…

​	​

​	“Th-There was… nothing at first,” the dragon continued. “A-At first it was just fine!

E-Even though we were scared. Cold. Hungry…” He whimpered, shaking once more. “B-But then… w-we saw it. Heard it! F-Felt it…”

​	Suddenly, he looked up to the two seated men, huffing, and with such pitiable sorrow in his eyes…

​	“P-Please… tell me… promise me… that you’ll believe me. P-Please…!”

​	The men, shaken, looked at one another, and nodded.

​	“O-Of course, my child!” praised the fox-priest. “With faith lies good consciousness. Have no fear…”

​	“No need to hold back, sir,” added the bear. “Please, tell us. Listening is what we’re here

	for…”

​	The drake opened his mouth as if to speak, but then whimpered as his head fell back down. He had to do this. He knew he had to do this. But… it was hard. It was so terribly, terribly hard…

​	The fox, watching the poor drake sniffle and whimper for some time, shook his head in

	sorrow.

​	“L-Look…” the fox lamented. “I-It’s understandable if it’s too much for you. Y-You’ve gone through so much already. P-Perhaps i-it would be best, doctor, if we gave our friend some time to–”

​	“It was a dragon.”

​	……

​	Silence. For what felt like an agonizingly long time, the padded cell was imbued in eerie and utter silence. No panting of breaths, nor jingling of chains. No scratching of quills, nor tapping of paws. Not even the thumping of hearts could be heard. It was as if any and all sounds - any and all things - that evidenced life were violently sucked out. Leaving behind a nebulous cell, housing mere husks of the residents’ former selves…

​	Slowly, however, heartbeats returned. Warm breath billowed from all their mouths, as they again found their lungs. And finally, as the whimpers of the patient returned, the doctor just as well finally managed to find his voice…

​	“A… d-dragon?” he stuttered. He may have again found his voice, but his mind was unsatisfied. “As in… one of your kind? That… seems strange. I mean…” he gestured toward his vulpine friend. “I know that monks sometimes choose to live hermetic lives, but the chances of finding one there is–”

​	“N-No… no, no, no nonononono! NO!!!”

​	The two seated men reeled back in shock.

​	“N-No?” the bear asked.

​	“Th-That’s not it… th-th-that’s not what it was at all!” the drake screamed. “I-It wasn’t like me! H-How DARE you even compare that damned thing to me?!”

​	Despite the soundproof nature of the room, the drake’s shrill yells were so loud, so vulgar, that his voice at last managed to penetrate quite deeply, bouncing appreciably now from one wall to another. The result was complete disorientation for both the bear and the fox - but at the risk of escalating things any further, it was the fox who dared to speak next…

​	“Wha…?” he whimpered. “Wh-What are you talking about, my chil–”

​	“Don’t you understand?” the drake whimpered, sniveling and shaking suddenly once more. “I-It wasn’t like me. I-I… I walk on two legs, don’t you see?! And so do you! But you’ve seen bears, I’m sure, that walk on four. You’ve seen foxes that walk on four! S-So… s-s-so…”

​	A collective gasp was uttered by the two seated men… but it was the fox, again, who dared to speak first…

​	“Y-You… you mean…?”

​	The drake panted, swallowing a mouthful of saliva before gasping breathily.

​	“Th-That’s why I asked you if you would believe me…” the drake whimpered. “Because I know… I-I-I know how ridiculous it sounds. B-But please… y-you have to believe me!”

​	The fox, clutching his religious pendant close to his breast, shuddered.

​	“B-But, my child…” he whimpered, cringing in confusion. “Wh-What you say just…

c-can’t be possible. Feral dragons… the descendants of your kind… th-they surely died off over a thousand year–”

​	“I KNOW!!” the drake screamed, causing a slight whimper to escape the fox’s mouth. “I know, dammit… but… b-but…” He whimpered, shutting his eyes tight, trying to prevent the tears from pouring out. “I-It really was a dragon. It was! I-I… I know what I saw…”

​	“And what exactly did you see?”

​	This time it was the bear who dared to speak. Now with such remarkable calmness and inquisitiveness that neither the fox nor the drake could help but turn their gazes toward him. The ursine looked to the two, quill in one paw, parchment in the other. His face was difficult to read -

but it was clear now, as it always has been, that above all, the bear wanted answers. And the drake, one way or another, would give them to him…

​	“You saw this… monstrous dragon, let’s say…” the bear continued. “And then? What happened after that? What did he do?”

​	The patient continued to stare at the bear, awestruck and terrified.

​	“Y-You… you believe me?” he asked.

​	“Just answer the question, sir,” the bear stated bluntly. “What happened next?”

​	The drake, looking on with trembling eyes for a few seconds more, slowly but surely slumped down, whimpering and sobbing, struggling to speak…

​	“D-Do I…” he stammered. “D-Do I… r-really have to say? I-Isn’t it obvious?!” He was starting to hyperventilate now, clearly getting worked up. “H-He… H-H-He…!”​

​	Another long pause, filled with nothing but sorrowful whimpers and sobs. One could swear they could even hear the poor dragon’s heart about to thump out of his chest. Eventually, however, all of this came to a head, and he couldn’t hold back anymore…

​	“He ATE them, dammit!!” he screamed. “H-He… ate them both!!”

​	The fox gasped in horror, clasping both paws over his mouth. The bear, in contrast, showed little reaction at all. The dragon, amid his sobs and whimpers, begrudgingly continued…

​	“I… I-I… I tried so hard to resist… so hard to fight back! But I… I-I was too weak. The weight of him… w-was too great. I squirmed and screamed. I begged for them to run, before it was too late! B-But…” He whimpered, choking up inside. “But Mary, so sweet… Daniel, so kind… they began to approach instead. With concern… with peace… with love in their hearts. They t-tried to… m-make friends with the beast. To convince my release. So we could all live… in harmony…”

​	The poor drake, once again, burst into another fit of sobs and whimpers, struggling amid his restraints with such fury and sorrow. So much suffering could not be handled by the fox anymore, and even as his bear companion continued to write and scribble notes on his parchment, the fox couldn’t help but whisper…

​	“D-Doctor…” he beseeched. “P-Please… I-I’m starting to feel lightheaded. Th-This is too much… c-can’t we continue this another–”

​	“Shh!” the bear hushed. The fox, whimpering at his friend’s abruptness, began to fidget in his chair…

​	“But it didn’t work,” the dragon continued at length, tears streaming freely now down his cheeks. “And now that they were close, it was… t-too easy. I could feel the distress, the defeat, the horror in their voices when they realized it was too late. I could feel their struggles, vibrating through the beast. They screamed, and I screamed too. And that’s… wh-when it happened…” He whimpered again, twitching spastically before sighing…

​	“D-D-Daniel was first. He was lifted, brought before the snout… and licked. Licked so thoroughly, so deeply by that filthy forked tongue. Coating him in thick, drooly slobber. Daniel’s eyes… they were filled with so much sorrow. So much shock. He wanted to scream. He wanted to so, so badly. B-But…” he whimpered. “Mary was already so terribly scared. Screaming and crying. He was a man, he… h-he wanted to look tough. For her sake, at least…” He choked a little, before wiping tears away. “But he couldn’t hide it fully… I could see it in his face. And as that filthy tongue continued to slobber over him… he would constantly whimper and beg. Calling for me. Begging for me to… t-to protect him…”

​	The dragon, yet again, couldn’t help but burst into another fit of unintelligible sobs and whimpers. The bear simply continued to nonchalantly write more notes in his parchment. It saddened the religious vulpine to his side…

​	“Finally,” the drake sobbed. “That’s when the tongue wrapped around his neck. He squirmed and writhed, kicking and screaming as hard as he could. I felt it all. I heard it all. I cried through it all. But… a-all of it was muffled, once his head was inside.” He choked again, sputtering and rocking to and fro. “The… m-monster took his sweet time, savoring his meal. He tasted good… goddammit, Daniel tasted good! And his squirms only made him more enticing. But no matter how hard he fought, how hard he squirmed… D-Daniel couldn’t be saved. No matter how hard he, or Mary, or I… no matter how hard we tried. We couldn’t stop him… and then he was swallowed. Alive and… s-s-still squirming. I could still feel him in the belly, hear the wet and sloshy gurgles as the stomach began to process him. I pressed my paws against it, reaching for him… and I could feel him reaching back for me. I felt his outline… his paws, his body… his face. Screaming in agony. It was muffled behind the flesh, but… I could hear it. Ohhh, I could hear it too well…!!”

​	Once more the poor dragon - overwhelmed, terrified, scared beyond belief - entered another fit of sobs. It was remarkable how still the tears flowed. One might assume they would have run dry by now… but his love for his friends was strong indeed. This, both the bear and the fox were in definite agreement about… but by this point, the fox had nearly lost it…

​	“D-Doctor…” he whimpered, shuffling in his seat, looking desperately toward the door. “I-I can’t take it anymore. If this must continue, it must continue without me! Our poor friend is at his wits’ end… I-I myself am feeling faint just listening to him! I-I must, flee. I must g–!”

​	The fox’s terror suddenly subsided, at least to some degree, as he again felt the massive paw of the bear rest over his thigh. The vulpine looked up at the bear, only to see his ursine friend with a sad smile over his lips. He, as always, was difficult to read… but for some reason, looking at his dear friend’s face like that, the vulpine found he just… couldn’t abandon him. “Please,” it was as if the bear was saying. “Just for a little longer, my friend…”

​	So the fox, with fear racing through his heart, slumped down in his chair once more, clenching his religious pendant close at heart…

​	“That’s…” the bear began, clearing his throat. “That’s horrible indeed. I presume that… excuse me… that the same thing happened to Mary as well?”

​	The dragon’s nostrils suddenly flared, his eyes sharpening instantly. He looked up to the bear, fury in his heart. As if to say, ‘how DARE you speak her name?!’ But as the bear’s steadfast countenance met his gaze, his strength rapidly dissipated, and he slumped over again, nodding sorrowfully.

​	“Y-Yeah…” the dragon whimpered. “B-But it was… e-even worse for her. Poor Mary… s-sweet, sweet Mary…!” He sobbed briefly again, gritting his teeth painfully tight. “She was so delicate… so loving… neither of them deserved it, but especially not her.” He again began to hyperventilate. “She too was tasted. Slobbered over like a simple piece of meat. But while Daniel kept his cool for the most part, p-poor Mary… she cried, and screamed, and whimpered, and begged… so, so much. Constantly she called my name, over and over again. Begging me… oh, god…! Begging me to help! B-But…” he whimpered. “I-I couldn’t. And soon enough she was s-s-swallowed just the same, and so too her… b-b-body I could feel against the stomach. Now both were in there, entangled, squirming, crying amongst each other. I could only imagine how hot and s-slimy it was in there. I pressed my paws against the flesh, and I could feel them push in return… but nothing more could be done. All I could do was listen as they begged me. Pleaded with me to get them out. Pleaded with me to help. Help. Help. Help!” He screamed sharply, banging the back of his head suddenly against the padded walls. The fox squirmed in his seat, and the dragon huffed, tears dribbling still down his cheeks. “B-But I couldn’t. I was useless. I couldn’t do anything. And now… I’m here. Worthless… as ever…”

The dragon, after giving a sputtering breath, looked sorrowfully up at the bear.

​	“P-Please… you have to believe me. I’m not crazy. I-I don’t belong here! P-Please lemme go! PLEASE!!”

​	The dragon again began to scream wildly and struggle amid his restraints, the moonlight making his tears twinkle in the depressing gloom. The bear looked somberly at the poor dragon, before writing a few more notes in his parchment.

​	“Please, doctor…” the fox chimed in. “I… I-I have my doubts about him still, of course… but I don’t think there’s any room to argue that he’s gone through a lot. H-He’s… simply having a hard time letting go, is all. For now, at least, let’s retire. Perhaps in the morning he will be in a better state of mind. What do you say?”

​	The bear, pausing briefly in his notes, looked briefly at his fox friend. Then to the dragon, still begging and sobbing before him. Then back to his quill. He sighed, a deep, sorrowful sigh, before writing a few more quick notes in his parchment, and laying back in his chair.

​	“Sir…” began the bear. “I have just a few things to ask you. Please be cooperative for just a little bit more. There’s something… very important I have to make sure of…”

​	“No… doctor…” the fox pleaded, pulling at the bear’s coat only for the ursine to shrug him off. “Look at the poor fellow! He can barely speak anymore! Wh-Why… why are you–”

​	“Please, Father…” the bear sighed, sighing with his eyes closed. The fox, in return, quieted once again, cringing and grimacing at the poor soul before him. The bear looked to him just as well, talking in as soft a tone as he could muster.

​	“Firstly, sir…” he began. “I need to ask… if the events proceeded as you described them… then the first obvious question is, how are you here? How did you escape this… dragon?”

The drake suddenly ceased in his sobs. There was a long period where he simply sat there, motionless, unreadable. But then, slowly, his head rose, and the two seated men were able to see just how utterly caked with tears the poor patient was. He looked at the bear, panting once, twice. And then, finally, he sighed…

“W-Well…” the dragon whimpered. “I really shouldn’t have. If anyone should’ve been eaten that night… i-it should’ve been me.” He grimaced, a momentary snarl running over his lips. “Unfortunately, doctor, I don’t have much of an answer for you. Sorry. I just… all I remember was their voices. Calling out to me. Begging for me. Those were the last things I heard before I passed out. The last time I ever heard their voices. After that, I…” He sighed. “I don’t know. When I woke up, it was day. The dragon was gone. At first I thought it was just a nightmare, but then I… I saw their bones…” He shuttered upon utterance of the horrid word. “I panicked, running out of the cave, into the forest, not caring where I ended up… but somehow I found this town. A-And… you know the rest…”

There was another pause, as the tears began to flow once more from the drake’s cheeks. The fox covered his mouth with his paws, trying to prevent the flow of tears himself, as he looked pleadingly up at the doctor. But the bear simply loosed a shaky sigh, before scribbling a few more notes in his parchment.

“Okay…” the bear conceded. “I… won’t press that issue any further. There’s something more important I need to ask you anyway. And sir?” He paused, mustering what strength he could. “I want you to answer me simply and plainly. Anything else I will deem immediately as suspicious. Do you understand?”

​	The dragon, needless to say, was completely taken aback. He looked up to him pleadingly, then to the fox, who seemed to share his discontentment. Then back to the bear…

​	“Y-You…” the dragon whimpered. “Y-You don’t trust m–”

​	“Sir!” the bear exclaimed sternly. It caused the dragon, for the first time, to yelp and fall back, shuddering in place. In his vulnerable state he couldn’t help but agree. Anything to get rid of the scary bear…

​	“Y-Yes… s-sir…” the dragon muttered sorrowfully…

​	“Good,” the bear nodded, before taking a deep breath. “Now, please be straight with me. It’s not a complicated question, so it doesn't require a complicated answer.” He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath…

​	“My question to you, sir, is… what color were the dragon’s eyes?”

​	……

​	Silence. Silence once again reigned throughout the small, nebulous room. For one second. Two seconds. Three. Then, slowly, both the dragon and fox looked to the bear, collectively confused.

​	“Wh-What?” they said simultaneously.

​	The bear, frowning, flipped through his notes, as he began to explain.

​	“You see, sir… I’ve been paying close attention to everything you’ve said this evening. Your colorful descriptions know no bounds. Despite, clearly, how hard it is for you to talk.” He cleared his throat, before tapping over his parchment. “When I first asked you to describe your friends, you went further and explained your childhood, how you met, your schedule for these ‘adventures’ of yours. You described your friends’ species, their genders, personalities… even the colors of their own eyes. When you explained how you got lost, you described the loss of your compass, the uselessness of your map. And through it all, you were remarkably detailed, explaining exactly who did what, how they did it, and approximately when and where. And don’t misunderstand… it’s all very much appreciated information. I have no doubt you were recalling everything to the best of your ability, and I thank you for that. Perhaps it’s just your way of… handling things…”

​	He sighed, flipping through the parchment some more before settling on a particular

	page…

​	“But something is wrong. When you described your interaction with the dragon… a key detail was noticeably absent. The visage of the dragon itself. I asked you exactly what you saw. But instead… you went on about what you felt, what you heard… regarding your friends. Odd, considering if you truly saw your friends getting eaten right before you by some wild feral dragon… I have no doubt that the beast’s visage would be burned in your retinas forever. That would be the first thing you would talk about. Blaming and cursing… describing the wretched monster that claimed your friends’ lives. The dragon’s girth, his imposing size, his cruel and devious expression. Like a witness describing a murder…”

​	The bear loosed another deep sigh. The fox and dragon, by now, looked utterly distraught, the gears turning slowly and painfully in both of their minds…

“But instead,” the bear continued.” You never talked about that. You talked only about your friends: how they felt inside the stomach. The shrillness of their cries. The wetness of the… gurgles. It was, even more so than your other tales… remarkably personal to you. At first I thought, perhaps, that your lack of a visual description was because of the supposed ‘weight’ of the beast. That you were under him. But then, the only time you actually saw anything was in Daniel’s… terrified eyes, as you say. His fear, his shock. You could, I quote ‘see it in his face.’ So you clearly had a good enough vantage point to see that, which as you explained, was right before the dragon’s snout. But never once did you describe the actual beast. His color. His species. Was he an earth dragon? Did he have wings? We don’t know. Because you didn’t describe it to us.” The bear’s expression suddenly turned angry, his tone accusatory. “Because you didn’t need to, nor want to. Because… for some reason… you didn’t actually see much of the dragon yourself. Because in truth… the dragon’s appearance is already self-evident. Isn’t it?”

​	Once more, silence reigned across the room. A silence they had grown all too familiar with by now. Though now it was perhaps no longer complete, for just faintly - yet ever so strongly - one could hear a heartbeat. The heartbeat of the drake. Racing faster, faster. Ever faster…

​	The fox, with his own heart racing impressively fast, stared in trepid fascination at his friend. Then back to the dragon…

​	“M-My child?” the fox asked, nervously.

Uncountable emotions raced through the drake’s brain at that moment. Confusion, betrayal, sadness, fear… but most chiefly of all, anger. Anger like never before. By now the dragon’s snarl had stretched far and wide, his teeth sharp and deadly, hot, hazy puffs of steam huffing from his nostrils as if from a piston…

​	“Wh… What are you saying?” he seethed between his teeth. When he received no immediate answer, the dragon suddenly pulled hard at his bindings, ready to just about kill the ursine.

​	“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING, YOU BASTARD?!”

​	Said ursine, however, merely continued to stare, disappointed, at the rapidly angering reptile. His analytical eyes could read him like a book now. Already his patience was lost - already the dragon had failed his simple request. And already… his mind was made up…

​	“Can you do it, sir?” he asked bluntly. “Mr. ‘Honest Dragon?’ Can you tell me the color of his eyes?”

​	“Why the fuck does that matter?!” he screamed. “I-I… I couldn’t see them!”

​	“You’re right,” the bear conceded. “That’d be impossible from your perspective. But that doesn’t matter. Because you know what color they are anyway, don’t you?”

​	“Sh-Shut up!!” he screamed, shaking his head in frustration. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT

	UP!!”

​	The bear paused once more, looking up and sighing sorrowfully.

​	“Your friends certainly would have,” he suggested. “Both when they looked at his eyes then, so lost and full of hunger…”

​	“S-STOP!!” the dragon pleaded, trying desperately to bang his head against the wall. Anything, anything to escape. “S-Stop, dammit! P-Please…! I-I… I can’t! I-I won’t! I… please, please, please, please…!”

​	The bear grimaced painfully… and sighed…

​	“And when they looked into his eyes before,” he finished. “As he promised he’d protect them… always.”

​	It cracked. Finally and truly, in that moment, it cracked. They could actually hear it, the two seated men. The physical and metaphorical cracking… of the dragon’s heart…

​	He became motionless, the poor drake. Unresponsive, outside of his spasmodic twitches. His nonsensical stuttering. His pained, sorrowful sobs. He was, for all intents and purposes, utterly and completely defeated. Crying like a child, and just as helpless, just as vulnerable, just as terrified as one…

​	The bear looked on, shaking his head in dismay.

​	“You were right about one thing, sir…” he lamented. “There WAS indeed a feral dragon in that cave that night. Lost in hunger and fear. He was just…. a little bit smaller than we were led to believe. And tried with all his heart, despite his predatory nature… to stop himself…”

​	Sighing despondently, the ursine, with cold bittersweet finality in his heart, collected his parchment and quill and stood himself up.

​	“We’re done here. Thank you for your time, sir. And Father?” the bear tapped the vulpine priest on the shoulder. “Thank you as well. Come along… I’ll prepare us some tea. We’ll continue here another time.”

​	The fox, heartbroken and shaken beyond imagination, looked up to his ursine friend, then back to the drake. So distraught he was that not even he, it seemed, could muster up much to say. He, in his own way… was broken himself…

Thus, sighing sorrowfully, the fox begrudgingly collected his bible, holding it firmly in his warm, furry paws as the bear, ever the stronger of the two, collected the chairs. The bear led the way, opening the heavy steel door. Warm candlelight seeped through the crack, quickly becoming obscured as the bear blocked the path, exiting the room. Just before the fox, too, left, he stole one last look at the poor dragon. Broken, he still was. Sobbing and shivering. The fox bit his lip, placing the bible in his left paw, a tear rolling down his cheek…

“I’m sorry, my child,” he whispered, raising his free paw and waving it around in a religious rite. To protect. And to shield. “I’m so very, very sorry…”

With that, the fox hesitantly exited the room. The great, metal door closed with a dreadful creak, before slamming shut entirely: cutting off the glow from outside, and leaving the poor dragon broken, chained, and alone. Alone… in a cold, padded cell…

He sat there for what felt like hours, and indeed it very well could have been. Lost, shivering, foaming at the mouth. He felt sick. He felt physically sick. There was a disease inside him, and he wanted nothing more than to rip it out of him. Rip it out. Rip it out. Take his fetid sharp dragon claws and tear into his stomach, into his eyes, into his putrid disgusting throat. Maybe then he’d be cured. Maybe then he’d be saved. Maybe then…

But he couldn’t. As always, he couldn’t do a thing. Even as their voices began to ring in his ears. Calling him. Begging him. Pleading with him… to set them free. He shook his head frantically, screaming at the top of his lungs. Trying to get them to go away. But always they persisted. They wouldn’t go away. Because they couldn’t go away…

“N-No…” he whimpered, panting and crying. “He’s wrong. Th-The fuckin’ idiot, h-he… doesn’t know anything!! D-Daniel… M-M-Mary. I-I couldn’t have… I wouldn’t have…!”

But it was then that an eerie, unexplainable feeling of dread washed over him. His heart dropped, and his teary eyes shot open. All of a sudden his whimpers ceased. The voices stopped. But only for a moment. Just long enough for him to look down, and realize… that it was dark. Incredibly, impossibly dark. The moonlight was almost entirely cut out, the shadows of the bars conglomerated…

Something was at the window.

And as he dared, with trembling, shaky breaths, to look up… his entire world came crashing down. He screamed, writhing and pulling, sobbing and kicking. He screamed, and screamed, and screamed, nearly tearing out his vocal cords. Bashing his skull against the wall, begging for it to shatter and ooze…

The moonlight was nearly cut off. But strong enough still, to reveal the draconic silhouette at the window. Haggard and smiling. Smiling with such sharp, yellow, bloody teeth. Staring with hunger, with fury, with sadistic, ravenous glee in his burning golden eyes. His head moved slightly up and down, and he could see he was laughing. Hear he was laughing. Feel… he was laughing.

He screamed even louder, the poor drake. Loud enough to burst ear drums. Yet still the visage remained, and still he continued to scream. Even as those jaws spread apart, revealing a cavernous and endless maw of death and decay, of blood and saliva and flesh, rippling and pulsing. Even as the voices returned, begging for help. Even as the slimy forked tongue licked slowly over the window, smothering it with bubbling saliva and blood…

He felt as if he would die, that he would faint and never wake up. But then, suddenly, he blinked. And just like that, it was gone. The dragon. The blood. The saliva. All of it - gone like the wind…

He panted, choked, trying to collect himself. But any constitution the drake had left deteriorated instantly, and he collapsed. He whimpered, curling himself up as tight as he could. And as the voices slowly returned once more, so too did the tears…

“D-Daniel… M-Mary…”

But no matter how much he sobbed, no matter how much he cried… it could never obscure the wretched, reptilian gold that lay underneath. The gold he would happily trade away for their lives. The gold… he would gladly tear and destroy, if he could but hug them… one last time…

But for that night, till the rest of his days, all the poor drake could ever manage to do was hug his own stomach, whispering pleas and cries that could never be answered…