Post by Inkwell on Jul 8, 2011 19:31:47 GMT -5
When the Hatching had ended, it had taken Astor only one trip to move all of his belongings to the outer caverns. This was mostly because his belongings, besides the flint and stone knife he kept on himself at all times, consisted only of the by-now bedraggled sack he'd original stolen Dazanth's egg in and a few half-carved blocks of wood he'd been whittling to pass the time.
He wouldn't have bothered, except that he knew the outer caverns would be a better place for Brigith in the long run, especially when she started getting bigger, and, well... he couldn't bear the thought of not being around her, now that he had her, and she seemed to agree. The little dragonet never left his side. If it was possible to be bonded at the hip, that was what they were. They set up in the far back corner and almost immediately fell asleep next to the almost-burnt out coals of a small fire Astor had built partially for warmth and partially in mere celebration.
The next morning dawned with bright sunshine and hunger pangs. This was his life now.
Mine, we should find something to eat! I am hungry and I can tell that you are hungry too and you shouldn't be. Though she was already curled as close against his chest as possible, she somehow managed to nuzzle closer. I am too young to hunt for you and I am sorry. Soon, soon. Until then... what do we do?
Astor sat up and rubbed his eyes, then yawned.
You stay here and I go hunt us up some tunnelsnake–
No! Brigith all but leapt onto him, and a muted echo of the fear from the day before crept into his mind. Do not leave me, Astorlove. Where you go, I go, no matter the danger. I have to keep you safe and stay with you. The way she said 'have to', to any other person, would have registered as a big red flag. But to Astor, it seemed perfectly reasonable – mostly because the same sort of logic was so familiar to him.
Luckily, he had an ace up his sleeve. One of the other outlaws, a scrawny ex-duster whose mind was, shall we say, easily moldable had fallen into Astor's clutches early on. With his usual charm, Astor had broken the man's mind further and then oh-so-generously offered to be his only friend in the big, mean, scary jungle. Maybe Astor couldn't leave his beautiful Brigith to hunt, but his duster hadn't Impressed and could certainly bludgeon a wherry or two for his bestest friend.
You are a good man, mine, Brigith purred approvingly as she dug into a half-butchered wherry a few hours later. So kind to that poor lonely man. No wonder he so willingly helps you.
I know. I'm too nice for my own good.
With two wherries for Brigith and one for her rider, Astor had a bit of meat left over. Were any outlaws brave enough to approach the crazy pyro and his crazy dragon to ask for some?
He wouldn't have bothered, except that he knew the outer caverns would be a better place for Brigith in the long run, especially when she started getting bigger, and, well... he couldn't bear the thought of not being around her, now that he had her, and she seemed to agree. The little dragonet never left his side. If it was possible to be bonded at the hip, that was what they were. They set up in the far back corner and almost immediately fell asleep next to the almost-burnt out coals of a small fire Astor had built partially for warmth and partially in mere celebration.
The next morning dawned with bright sunshine and hunger pangs. This was his life now.
Mine, we should find something to eat! I am hungry and I can tell that you are hungry too and you shouldn't be. Though she was already curled as close against his chest as possible, she somehow managed to nuzzle closer. I am too young to hunt for you and I am sorry. Soon, soon. Until then... what do we do?
Astor sat up and rubbed his eyes, then yawned.
You stay here and I go hunt us up some tunnelsnake–
No! Brigith all but leapt onto him, and a muted echo of the fear from the day before crept into his mind. Do not leave me, Astorlove. Where you go, I go, no matter the danger. I have to keep you safe and stay with you. The way she said 'have to', to any other person, would have registered as a big red flag. But to Astor, it seemed perfectly reasonable – mostly because the same sort of logic was so familiar to him.
Luckily, he had an ace up his sleeve. One of the other outlaws, a scrawny ex-duster whose mind was, shall we say, easily moldable had fallen into Astor's clutches early on. With his usual charm, Astor had broken the man's mind further and then oh-so-generously offered to be his only friend in the big, mean, scary jungle. Maybe Astor couldn't leave his beautiful Brigith to hunt, but his duster hadn't Impressed and could certainly bludgeon a wherry or two for his bestest friend.
You are a good man, mine, Brigith purred approvingly as she dug into a half-butchered wherry a few hours later. So kind to that poor lonely man. No wonder he so willingly helps you.
I know. I'm too nice for my own good.
With two wherries for Brigith and one for her rider, Astor had a bit of meat left over. Were any outlaws brave enough to approach the crazy pyro and his crazy dragon to ask for some?
