Tearaway

Gazing down at a skydancer half his body mass, the newly neutralized ghoul came to his senses for the first time in an eon. He moved to take a step back and survey his surroundings, groaning as he felt rotten skin all across his body flake and peel up as he moved exposing raw sensitive flesh to the air. He appeared to be deep in an abandoned quarry, a sight unfamiliar to him. But then again, what was familiar to him? He could remember nothing of himself, only able to slowly form thoughts with egregious amounts of effort. All he knew was there was a dragon in front of him and he hurt. He didn't even know it was a skydancer, that it was a dragon, only it was there and moved. Did he know what a quarry was either? No, he didn't have the strength to grasp a concept like that, much less think about it in relation to his memory. Falling onto his side and laying his head down, he rolled his eyes to look at the skydancer. He groaned loudly and stretched his legs, revealing the parts of him that hurt hoping they could do something. The skydancer came closer to him and touched his wounds, making indecipherable noises at him. He stared at it, and it back at him. It started again, this time making movements as it made sounds. At that he laid his head down and closed his eyes, allowing whatever to happened next to happen.

He lay in this hazy fugue state for a time, watching as the mushrooms around him glowed gently and the dragon moved busily around him. Eventually the dragon came over and applied a white paste to his wounds, it stung but he made no move to stop it asides from lazily baring his teeth and hissing quietly- a reflex. More time passed and a foamy golden layer appeared where the paste had been applied, and the dragon now placed heavy black metal on it. The metal pieces glowed on their undersides with strange symbols and when contacted with the foam that grew on him wisps of black smoke floated lazily up into the air. He laid back down and time passed again, this time until the moment that the foam on him not underneath the metal solidified into a consistency like the moss on the walls and sprouted strange seeds atop thin stalks. Now the dragon urged him to get up, pulling on his head to get him to stand. In all this time he had only moved to allow the dragon to apply the foam and metal to his wounds, or to open his jaw to allow paste to be shoved into a tube down his throat. Now he stood again, for the first time since he had regained his senses, and grunted at the effort. He fell the first time, his left hind leg giving out on him. With more encouragement, he finally rose and made his first shaky steps. He noticed he no longer felt pain, though still was unable to think beyond that. The dragon standing to his right rubbed him soothingly, and without any pain the pleasure was so intense he leaned with all he could into their touch and threw his head back. The action caused him to fall again, nearly crushing the dragon. The dragon darted out of the way and patted his snout sympathetically, though a little less firmly than they had touched his shoulder. He snorted in reply, attempting to get back up a final time, but the dragon gently pressed down on a shoulder to signal he lay down. Another jolt of pleasure shot through him and he obliged, laying down and closing his eyes. He was unable to fall asleep. Where he had been touched still gently tingled and he craved it. Now he could think in some small capacity getting that touch was all he had on his mind, keeping him awake and restless. Slyly cracking an eye open he attempted to ascertain the position of his caretaker. The skydancer was behind them, scratching away at sheets of paper as usual. Quietly as he could, he tried discreetly to get up again. His armor scratched harshly across the floor and his caretaker whipped around in surprise. They motioned for him to lay down again but he didn't notice. His vision was tunneled solely around their paws as he lurched towards them. All of a sudden the skydancer disappeared from in front of him. He stumbled and fell as he attempted to turn around and his world spun. Dizzily he attempted to shake it off and get back up again but strong vines were quickly wound around his snout and laid over top of him, then pulled tight against the floor to pin him down. He growled as best he could with his muzzle tied closed, armor reverberating menacingly as his chest rumbled. The skydancer remained out of his view. He pulled at his constraints desperately, wanting to know where they were, until he could struggle no more and succumbed to sleep.

He awoke to an unusual sight. His muzzle and neck were now free, though the rest of him was still pinned down, and his meal was in front of his nose. What was unusual was his caretaker was standing a distance away watching him closely with coverings on their paws and a sharp implement in one of them. He slowly swallowed his meal of paste, no longer through a tube but lapped off of the rock in front of him, watching the skydancer intently all the while. He finished and they moved off to the side, skirting around him outside of the reach of his neck and out of the cavern he was held in. He got the inkling he had somehow prompted this behavior, but was yet unsure how.

Several meals like this later and he stopped watching his caretaker so intently. He had slowly and agonizingly come to the conclusion that the way he had acted was causing this. They walked slowly over to him, paws still gloved and implement in hand, and cautiously placed a paw on the end of his snout. He laid his head submissively on the ground going against all his desires to feel the touch of their uncovered paw and groaned. They carefully and deliberately placed the tool they carried down on the ground- now visible to him as a hollow tube filled with viscous liquid and a long sharp point on the end opposite the handle- and cautiously untied him. When he made no move to get up they gave him a gentle pat on his head and motioned for him to raise it up. He obliged. Then, the skydancer showed him an object, something they always seemed to use- a long slender object ending in a point at one end, with a bump towards the point that rested on the dragon's paw when they used it- and slowly enunciated more sounds to him. They repeated this action a few more times, and then put a claw on his mouth. He stared blankly. This process repeated several more sleep cycles, until finally it clicked. He attempted to mimic the sound, "S -".

At that the dragon excitedly rubbed his neck, the sign he had come to know he was doing good, and repeated themselves. "P-E-Nnn", they said, and he tried again to copy. His lips had trouble forming the tight circle, and his jaw became sore, but he was doing good and they liked it so he must succeed. Eventually, he got it, "P!". He started towards them expectantly before checking himself, excitedly beating his tail tip against the ground at getting one sound out. He went to try again, to get all three sounds out, but they clamped his snout down and frowned. They reached into something attached to their waist and pulled out a soft rumpled white sheet, dabbing at the sides of his mouth. He licked there and felt it, pain.


[WIP]