Kranvagn

Also known as Emil 3

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It was night when he arrived.

The snowstorm howled loudly in the nordic forest, violetly slashing and digging up the earth. Visibility was practically zero, and yet...

Dim light leaked out from the windows of a tiny wooden hut into the thick snow layer nearby, illuminating the tiny ice fragments. A figure within the hut casually sat on a wooden bedframe, piles of leaves as bedding. With a shawl covering their face, there's no telling what the dragon was thinking. The ram skull above pressed onto the shawl cover, holding the fabric in place as the figure raised their head up.

"He's coming."

Seemingly noticing a prescence approaching, Kran got up, and arrived at its door as someone knocked on it a few times from the outside.



Opening the door revealed a dragon wearing an ushanka and heavy winter clothing. Its expressionless brown eyes revealed no specific emotion as it only stared at the green dragon. Piles of snow sat on top of the furs, weighing down the weary traveller on top of the bulky winter coat.

There were a few seconds of silence as both dragons stared at each other until Kran opened the wooden door a llittle wider and gestured,

"Come on in."

The stranger entered the hut without hesitation, taking off its coat and snow shoes immediately after. The figure folded his clothes and placed them onto the wooden frame, a giant red star on the back of the coat. Kran closed the door and went into the kitchen, asking,

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

A dark, rumbling masculine voice replied, "sure."

Out came Kran with a tray, a full tea pot and 2 cups, and set them on the table. The figure pulled the chair out and sat as she poured the contents and handed him his cup. Steam rose out of the cup as the hot tea reacted with the cold air. The stranger instinctively held the cups in his hands for warmth.

"I know why you're here, IS-3."

Upon hearing his name, the dragon took a sip of the tea, and softly set the cup down. He continued to stare at Kran as if gesturing her to keep going.

"You're unsettled by something...someone. A prescense watching your every move like a hawk obersving its prey. You don't know what to do,"

"and you came to me for help."

IS-3 let go of his grip on the tea cup and spoke,

"Seems like I came to the right place, didn't I? Kranvagn."

She raised her head up as if to meet his gaze. The ram skull tilted upwards, still pressing down on the shawl that covered her face.

And then there were seconds of silence that passed by like dreading hours instead. The deafening silence had so much pressure that was enough to crush bone.

Years ago, they had one last fight as representatives of the Soviet Union and Sweden. The arena was splattered with blood, you can barely even see the paint that was coated over the walls and floor. The fight took a grueling 5 hours, but ultimately ended in a draw. With broken bones and beaten bodies, both had to be carried away for emergency surgery as they were on their way to organ failure if left unattended a minute longer.

"Your room is over there at the end of the hall. Take care,"

Kran picked up the tray with her own cup and placed them on the kitchen counter, discarding the tea in her cup and cleaned up the remaining leaves in the pot, then she went into her room, turning off the candles and settled in.

IS-3 could only watch as she did all that, and set his eyes on her door, deep in thought.

The cup in his ands were still warm.