Treat

She was unnamed when she first joined this clan, an inconsequential hatchling passed from one fire clan to another. The clan leader, a great guardian with scales the color of molten rock and fiery gold, had asked her if she wanted the clan to gift her a name or choose one herself. Although the idea of having a name (an identity, part of her mind whispered) to call her own was appealing, she personally felt she wasn't ready for one just yet. After all, she still had no idea what her purpose in her old clan had been, let alone this new one.

She wasn’t a fighter, that much she was sure of. Not only did she dislike conflict, but she wasn’t good at it anyway. Nor was she good at metalworking, and perhaps this was the most shameful part of it all: a fire dragon who couldn’t work metal! No wonder her old clan had been so eager to get rid of her.

She was drawn out of her thoughts by the frantic flapping of wings above her. Looking up, she observed a spiral male looping through the air, before suddenly plummeting towards the ground at a dangerous speed. Worried, she took flight as well, heading to the place she'd last seen him as fast as her wings could carry her.

When she arrived, the sight that greeted her eyes was perhaps the strangest she’d ever beheld. Rather than appearing dazed from his sudden fall, the spiral male was snapping at a…was that a metal collar around his neck? All the while, from his mouth issued a stream of obscenities, among which she caught the words that damn guardian (and all of which she wouldn’t be caught dead repeating around her mother).

Nervously, she cleared her throat, a decision she regretted immediately when the spiral’s eyes snapped to her own. As she stared back, terrified, into large, manic orbs, she realized without a doubt that this dragon was absolutely insane.

What have I gotten myself into?

Losing interest in the collar, the spiral turned towards her, evidently having found a new toy to play with (she really, really hated herself right now). "Lost, are you, little one?" he sneered.

She tried, she really did, but couldn't stop the little eep from escaping her throat. "I was just seeing if you were alright, sir, and since you are, I'll just be on my way now!" she hated that she was rambling. Spreading her wings, she prepared to take flight. "Goodbye!"

"Hold it right there," he stated casually, grabbing her tail before she could escape. "It's impolite to leave before introducing yourself."

Trembling, she dared to meet his eyes again, and was relieved to see that they'd lost some of their manic gleam from before. Instead, he was gazing at her with an almost...contemplative? air. She wasn't sure if she liked this look either.

As if reaching a sudden decision, his voice suddenly became smooth and silky. "So let's introduce ourselves, shall we?" he purred. "My name is Trick. And yours?"

She lowered her head, suddenly very aware of how much she was the strange one now. "I don't have a name," she confessed.

The spiral, Trick, cocked his head to one side. "Clanless?" he asked.

"No! I mean, no," she corrected, embarrassed. "I'm in the clan led by Sol."

Trick suddenly looked furious, his teeth gnashing together and his tail whipping from side to side. "So you're in his clan, then? Did you join out of your own free will too?"

She shrunk back, terrified, as Trick's anger washed over her. It appeared mentioning her clan had been a mistake—this spiral obviously had some kind of personal problem with the leader.

One that he might take out on her, if she wasn't careful.

"Are you in a clan as well?" she dared to venture.

Trick's gaze snapped back to her, as if having forgotten she existed in his anger. "I'm part of Sol's clan," he replied, his voice suddenly carefully neutral. His eyes, however, were probing, searching.

For what, she didn't know. All she knew was that this was the crazy dragon some of the clan members had warned her about. He was too dangerous to let loose, they'd said. And that was why Sol had taken him in.

Apparently there was more to the story than she'd thought.

"So you were forced to join," she stated softly.

Once again, Trick looked stunned, as if she'd done something he hadn't expected. He was quick to recover, however. "So I was," he replied, equally softly. "And the only thing keeping me from my freedom," he continued, nodding at the collar affixed to his neck, "is this leash Sol put on me."

"And you want me to help release you," she finished, her head spinning. She felt detached from her body, as if this conversation were taking place far away and she was merely a spectator.

Trick appeared pleased she was so quick on the uptake. "Exactly," he purred, his voice like liquid poison caressing her ears.

"No."

Trick's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?" he said, his voice dangerously soft.

She didn't know what came over her. Every inch of her was screaming to get away from this dangerous dragon, but she was also tired of running. Her old clan and her old memories (of being worthless, useless, good for nothing) were behind her now. She was in a new clan—it was time to begin a new life.

A bit ironic that the next words out of her mouth would probably get her killed, instead.

"Your name is Trick, right? Then surely a small metal collar should prove of no problem to one as clever as you. Unless," and here she allowed a mocking smile to creep onto her face, all the while the still sane part of her brain screaming what was she doing?! It was too late to stop now, though—and some part of her didn't want to stop. It felt good to finally say what was on her mind, even though, and perhaps because, her only audience was a crazy dragon. "Sol has outsmarted you as well?"

Suddenly, the spiral's face was only inches from her own.

"You have exactly ten seconds," he began, his voice deceptively calm, "to stop me from accidentally murdering a clanmate."

In the face of death, she should be scared. Instead, she felt liberated—she knew she was dead the moment she'd landed next to this dragon, so why not make something out of it? If her pathetic life came to an end, at least she'd know she went down fighting.

"Instead of running away, why don't you stay and face him?" she asked, part of her marveling at how calm she sounded, and the other part almost desperate to make him see, before it was too late like it would be for her, that running away was never the solution. "Think of this as a game, one that might take months or even years to complete, true. But at the end of it, you'll have come out on top, having taken him down from within his very own home. After all, he might have forced you to join his clan, but a true master of games can turn any disadvantage into a favorable one."

Right, she was spewing nonsense. She had no idea where that speech had come from, except from a strange mixture of wanting to convince him not to be like her (a coward, a voice that sounded suspiciously like one of her old clanmates said in her head) and trying to state things in a way she hoped he would understand. But if she had a chance of surviving before, with this speech that chance was surely gone now.

Trembling, her sudden bravado having fled along with the end of her speech, she chanced a look at Trick. To her surprise, instead of looking like he wanted to kill her, he was looking at her with a mixture of astonishment and...was that awe?

Without warning, he suddenly pressed closer, his long body encircling hers, though this time it was less like he wanted to strangle her and more like he was simply trying to get a closer look at her. It didn't stop the surprised squeak from escaping her throat, however, and somehow he seemed amused by this, deliberately bringing his face even closer to hers.

"On second thought," he purred into her ear, his silky voice for some reason sending shivers down her spine, "I won't kill you just yet. In fact, perhaps I won't kill you at all, yes, you've proved yourself much more valuable than I thought. For the first time, someone understands," he breathed, and this last part seemed more to himself than her.

If she was already having trouble breathing before, she all but froze when Trick suddenly dipped his head to rest in the crook of her neck, as if inhaling her scent. "You said you didn't have a name, correct?" he asked conversationally, his tone of voice completely at odds with his actions.

She nodded nervously, not trusting herself to speak.

"Then from now on, you will be known as Treat," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. Against her shoulder, she felt his mouth curve into a smile. "We'll make an excellent pair, you and I," he said in a sing-song voice. "Trick and Treat."

Trick and Treat, she repeated to herself. She couldn't deny, it had a nice ring to it. If one ignored the fact that she would be tying herself down to a mad dragon by accepting this name.

What have I gotten myself into? Treat wondered for the second time that day. She wasn't sure, but for the first time, she thought she wouldn't mind finding out.