Roleplay

“Thank you, Aeira,” Jorn said wearily, hoping that Ciar would one day have the same spirit. “But, I agree with your rider. There’s a storm coming, and none of us know what’s out there. As much as a fresh meal would do him good, it’d be better to wait until morning. At least the storm would have passed by then, and you wouldn’t have to go alone.”

His piece said, he glanced over at Ciar who lay, thoroughly unconscious, and wondered if the dragon would even be willing to leave him behind to hunt. If there was one thing Ciar still had, though, it was pride. Jorn figured another dragon lulling him to sleep and then hunting for him would be quite a jab to the black dragon’s pride.

The Imperial grumbled and paced about, but finally decided against leaving. She settled back down to the ground and blinked slowly. He has a point. If I leave and something comes nobody can protect them. She shifted her gaze onto the other man. He had an undertone in his words, one she was puzzled on how to interpret, but staying was the better choice.

Ren raised a brow, surprised. "She never does that," he said softly in awe. "She's normally quite headstrong, though I suppose she may just up and go in a bit when we're not paying attention... how about you? When's the last time you have something hot to eat?"

“I wouldn’t expect any less from her, should she choose to go anyway,” Jorn said, somewhat amused. “As for me... probably the day I got this,” he answered, gesturing to his arm. “We’ve just been living off of our supplies since then.”

He leaned back, resting his head against the wall and shutting his eyes. “Funny thing is, I don’t feel all that hungry...” he muttered.

Ren chuckled, seems Jorn also understood his woes of having to deal with an energetic and stubborn dragon. "Well, we shall see, then. As for you, let us change that. A hearty meal ought to help you recover faster."

He stood up and walked over to his dragon, rummaging through the bags and belongings. He laid what he needed down in a neat pile, then began to gather firewood. They might need it for the storm, who knows? While he stacked branches and twigs, scrounging for some fire starter, he continued to converse.

"Well, you might not feel hungry, but I can assure you your body needs nutrition, not just dried jerky. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but that injury of yours calls for special treatment." He began to set up the fire, using a hollow in the packed earth from a rock as a base. With the smaller twigs laid down, he spun around and gave an odd whistle - a low tone followed by a short trill - and Aeira snapped to attention, spitting out a flame at the campfire.

"Heh, didn't think you still remembered that one," he said with a smile, "here, just like the old days." He fished out a chunk of caramel, wrapped in oilcloth, then snapped off a piece and threw it at the Imperial's open maw. She smacked her lips as she savored the treat.

"She's got quite the sweet tooth, didn't think too much about it then but it is an endearing feature," Ren commented as he packed the rest of the sweet stuff away.

“Ciar does that, too,” Jorn said, chuckling at Aeira’s trick. “Though, we have a different signal for it, and I admit I don’t use it much. I usually sleep under his wing, you see.”

“And, I wouldn’t be so shocked that she remembers. I think... you might be surprised to see what Ciar knows, as much as I wish he’d forget some of it.” Jorn gazed fondly at the dragon, who looked rather peaceful in his sleep. He turned back to Renell just as the other man tossed the treat.

“Sweets? How odd. Admittedly, I don’t think Ciar has ever tried one before, outside of fruit. He does favor seafood, though,” Jorn said.

"Some of them have come in handy. Saved my life once or twice," he said as he stoked the fire. "I usually sleep under her wing, too. Guess it's just natural." He propped up the pot and began heating the water, humming as he did so.

"Ah, shoot, she's got that lullaby stuck in my head, now," he laughed, once he realized what he was humming, "I'm sure he's got surprises of his own. I imagine he must have needed quite a bit of training." Ren continued to add to the pot as it began to steam.

"Guardian. Seafood. Guess that makes sense," he shrugged. Aeira didn't seem to show any preference, save for her love of sugar. Unfortunately, he never had been able to supply her with much in the way of sweets, either. While waiting for the broth to boil, he, too, looked out at his dragon. A smile grew as he watched the glow from the fire shimmer against her scales, making them sparkle as they caught the light every now and then.

“It’s the same with us. I doubt I would’ve survived this long without him, and he was one of the best dragons out there. I suppose that might be biased of me, though,” he said. “That’s a nice tune, by the way. I would say Ciar thinks so too.”

“Quite a bit? He’s had almost a decade of it; seven or eight years with a trainer, and another two with me,” Jorn elaborated. “And... he knows several things I hope he will never need to use again,” Jorn muttered, “but with the way the world is going, I doubt that.”

“I suppose the seafood preference does make a lot of sense. Unfortunately, we didn’t have access to much of it. You know, I’d intended on taking him here after the war. We’d been here before, but...” he stated, letting out a short, saddened chuckle. “Anyway, I hadn’t imagined taking him here like this,” he added after a moment.

Ren chuckled, "if it can quiet a sleepless hatchling, it should be quite likable. I had to use it often when Aeira was little." He reached out to stir the bubbling stew, adding the relatively fresh game from earlier that morning.

He didn't have much to add to Jorn's words. The world he had known was gone, annihilated in the destruction of war. It was all screwed up, in his mind. Dragons fighting humans, humans fighting dragons. Humans on dragons fighting other humans, and dragons under humans fighting other dragons. He heaved a sigh.

"Well, I hear the ocean may still harbor life. Not much fighting went on past the Icefields or far offshore. Last we were in the Sunbeam Ruins there seemed to be plenty of fish in the sea and rivers..." he trailed off, biting his lip. He missed his home, their home.

Pulling the pot from the fire, he dished out a healthy portion into a bowl. "Here, this'll go down easy. Should be easy to eat even if you aren't hungry," he said, forcing a smile. The topic of the war had really bogged down his spirit.

“Well, a lullaby is certainly better than what some others would’ve used,” Jorn replied. “Aeira humming to him... that’s probably the first time he’s heard anything like it.” He glanced over at the two dragons as he spoke, but quickly turned back to Renell when he heard the younger man move.

“Thank you, Renell,” he said, accepting the bowl. He noted Renell’s change in demeanor, admitting to himself that the topic had gotten his own spirits down.

“So,” he began, thinking of a way to change the subject. “She’s rather young, isn’t she? I don’t have much experience with Imperials, but a Guardian that age wouldn’t even be large enough to ride.” Jorn raised the bowl, blowing into it a few times to cool the stew before taking a sip. For being quite a simple stew, it tasted rather good and the warmth it brought him was very welcome.

"Please, just call me Ren. It's easier that way," he said, but neglected to say anything further. He took a bowl himself, blowing on it then taking a sip. The gamy flavor from the deer was a welcome surprise, and Ren took a couple more sips.

"She is only 16 years old, and it certainly shows," he snickered, seeing her try to sneak her wing over the Guardian. "Is that true? Most dragons tend to reach their adult growth relatively quickly, but I've not much experience with the larger breeds." He remembered how big she was when she hatched - small enough to fit in his lap, and how drastically her size changed in the first few months of her life.

"For a few weeks, it seemed she was doubling her length every other day. I assumed that period of intense growth was rather common... so Guardians have a less extreme rate of growth? I'm sure she's still putting on a foot every now and then, but it's so slow it hardly matters. For all intents and purposes she's fully grown."