Hanna, who had been taking a wonderful nap, lifts his head to blink out towards the mouth of his cave. The walls were lined with carvings of runes and things, magic running through the whole thing all the way back towards his horde, which didn't amount to much, but he was a humble dragon of not too much strength or size. Larger than a human by far, yes, but not quite so terrifying when he got out into the light.
He yawns, his claws searching for his glasses before he plops them on his face, settling on his snout easily. "I don't feel like coming out to play," He responds in a rather board voice, deeper than one might think when they saw him, but not quite so deep that you would register it for a monster his size. "Do I have to?"
Maurice had been bracing himself for a response. He wasn't quite sure what he'd been expecting...but it wasn't this. He drew his sword clumsily and puffed his bangs out of his face.
"Uh--yes!" He forced the warble out of his voice. What if it was a really, really big dragon? He leaned nearer to the entrance. He could see the flickering runes in the dark and rocks that could be the dragon. "Come out so I can kill you! You're a dragon, I'm a prince, you know the drill!"
The sounds of scraping claws can be heard, but the ground doesn't rumble like one would expect. His long body can be rather stealthy when he wants it to be, and he is light on his feet, even if he can't help the sound of his claws. "You don't have to be so demanding, patience is a virtue, you know." He returns, another louder yawn echoing out of the cave as he stretches his wings wide and arches his long back a cat might.
Finally shaking the sleep from his eyes, he straightens his glasses and makes his way towards the mouth of the cave, appearing in front of his challenger with a raised brow. When he snorts, fire comes from his nose and he holds claws and wing in front of his mouth to hide the smile. "Is that crown made of paper?"
Oh, man. Here it came. The horrible abomination was going to lunge at him. And Maurice was going to lop its head off and mount it on his--
"Are you pink??" The tip of Maurice's sword thunked harmlessly off his boot. Hanna was a lot smaller than he expected. And he could talk--another thing he hadn't expected. But those scales. He actually lifted a glove-clad hand to shield his eyes from the way the sun was glinting off of them. It was like their court jester threw up on a stain glass window.
"I see you don't have abs of steel and perfect teeth." He returns, snorting again, this time with less humor. "Seems like neither of us are what we were really expecting." His barbed tail swishes from side to side, considering the young prince before him. Definitely not the usual that comes calling at dragon's doorsteps.
"I suggest you get over it quickly. I doubt your sword tip is going to cut any less because I'm pink." And if he tried anything, Hanna's teeth didn't discriminate either.
The prince felt his ears start burning as he sucked in his gut as much as he could--which wasn't a lot. It came with the territory when your mother owned a fast food chain as well as a small country.
"I can't kill a pink dragon!" he lifted his sword again, though his words were strained. This dragon was talking to him. Did his parents know dragons talked? Why didn't they tell him? Was this just...something he was supposed to know? Did he sleep through the wrong lecture? He'd grown up eating fried wings from all manner of creatures and not once had this ever come up.
"Where's the real dragon? Are you his butler or something?"
Something rumbled in Hanna's chest, his lighter underbelly darkening around his lungs as heat started to gather, along with anger. It was one thing to mock his color, but doubting he was actually the master of his own home was another. His tail whipped out, careful of the barb so as to not actually cut his irritating foe, and knocked the young man off his feet, lunging forward to settle both clawed wings on his arms, pinning him to he ground. Surely Hanna looked much larger up close and personal, sharp teeth inches from Maruice's face. His eyes narrowed, flames stoking behind his tongue as he spoke but not coming forth just yet.
"Obviously you were never taught manners, prince. You're shaming your home with that mouth of yours." His tail whipped behind him in irritation, claws digging into the stone as he applied more pressure, "Appearances aren't everything."
While Maurice did many athletic things as a young man like horseback riding and learning to use a sword, once he passed a certain age he was given free-range and more or less hung out in the dining hall with a mountain of comic scrolls.
He was regretting that now as his boots flew out from under him. His sword went flying and sparked against a rock several feet away. Nothing like this ever happened to the heroes in his scrolls. His eyes grew to the size of saucers as the monster's teeth flashed in front of them. The prongs on his cardboard crown started to blacken and crumple from the embers drifting out of Hanna's mouth.
Maurice struggled against the dragon's claws so that he could bring his arms up far enough to cover his eyes. "DON'T EAT ME! PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING!"
He spat a small flame onto the curling tip of his crown, burning the rest of it, and with a snort he put the flames out so as not to damage the boy's hair. "There, perhaps next time you'll try a little harder to earn your crown." It's pathetic though, the way he cowers, and, rolling his eyes, Hanna releases him, his tail stretching out to wrap around the hilt of his sword, holding it high out of reach just in case the prince tried anything. "You can start by apologizing. It's rude to insult a dragon on his own doorstep."
Sitting up a little, he settles on his back haunches, wings folded at his side as he considers Maurice, "And maybe hand over your purse, please."
The prince let out a little scream as the plume of fire engulfed his crown. He started coughing when the fire was put out and patted furiously at his hair. It took him a moment to realize that he'd been set free--and that moment was just long enough for Hanna to take up his sword.
"HEY!" Maurice pushed himself to his feet but then remembered exactly what he was dealing with and stopped short in his tracks, face almost colored enough to match Hanna's scales. He hated how he felt the actual urge to reach down to the coin pouch at his hip. He set his jaw and forced back his wibbling. He wasn't going to get anything done if he didn't behave like a knight...and after the dragon was dead, nobody would know how laughable his first try had been.
"Fine. Sorry." It was the same sorry said by brothers forced to apologize after pulling their sister's hair. He held out a hand. "Can you gimmi me back my sword back so we can do this the right way?"
"Like you mean it." Hanna returns, raising an eyebrow before his tail swishes back around, Maurice's sword tip practically touching his nose, the force of it disturbing his bangs. It's held there a moment before being dropped blade first in front of him, Hanna taking a few steps back to give him space.
"I'll give you a moment to collect yourself, just tell me when you're ready." He sighs, as if it's a chore and starts to draw something in the dirt between them absently.
Another squawk escaped Maurice before he clapped both hands over his mouth. Nobody told him dragons moved so fast. In the scrolls they were dumb, lumbering beasts the size of buildings...and none of them wore glasses.
"Sorry...," he mumbled more quietly as he bent down to reclaim his sword. He wiped the hilt off against the side of his trousers because ew dragon germs. Then, he took up his fighting stance, completely oblivious to Hanna's drawing. Dragons talking was a big enough revelation. He'd heard a crow could talk if you split its tongue. He had yet to consider the idea of dragons being able to write.
"And there's nothing wrong with my teeth by the way!"
"Nothing wrong with mine either," Hanna returns, giving Maurice a rather large white grin of daggers, "If we're keeping score." He glances down at his drawing, barbed tail dotting a few places around it, ending in a long curved line, and he takes a step back, bowing dramatically.
Maurice blinked and swallowed at the dragon's grin. He wanted to run. He wanted to run, grab his horse, and never look back, but he couldn't. The dragon's bow lit a fire in him. He couldn't treat Maurice like this! He was just--some animal! A monster!
With what he hoped was an impressive warcry, Maurice hefted his sword and charged, aiming to wound the creature's nearest limb. If it couldn't fly, it'd be all over.
Hanna jumped, his wingspan, which was by far the most impressive thing about him aside from his length, spread and he flapped his wings, getting out of reach of Maurice. The drawing that the prince had so foolishly ignored wasn't a drawing at all, the rune lighting up as soon as Hanna had taken flight, glowing a color very similar to his scales.
"Watch out," he warned, feeling perhaps too kind, "who knows what that will do to you."
The blade sliced through air. Maurice huffed and puffed but refused to let it hit the ground again. Swords were expensive. When the creature started mocking him again, he was tempted to ignore it until his sword caught an unusual glow.
He looked at his boots.
He'd never seen a marking like this before. His mother employed one wizard and that wizard's main job was to deter salesmen and make sure her stockings never had runs in them. He let out a yelp and stumbled backwards, trying to get away from the magenta rune. Had he touched it!?
The rune lay still, no magic besides it's glow coming forth. Maurice had been lucky. Dropping back on the ground, wings settling at his sides, Hanna laughed, shaking his head. "There is nothing fair about storming someones home and demanding they fight you to the death."
His long body curled and curved, settling on the ground easily as he gave Maurice a questioning look. "Would you call it fair if I came to your castle and called you out? Or would that be slaughter?"
Maurice, easily fooled, skirted around the rune, trying to edge toward the dragon.
"I'd call that convenient! It's a two day ride from the castle. You're a dragon in the Gallus kingdom, you know what happens to dragons!" He charged again, aiming for that troublesome tail this time. Something about the blow didn't fall true.
Hanna's body moved in an almost ferret like fashion, back legs and front connected to his wings working in a strange fashion to move around his longer body. But as Maurice swung again, his tail lifted, countering the blow with the barb, a sharp sound of steel on thick dragon bone rang through the air, the barb unharmed.
In retaliation his tail pushed, meaning to shove the prince back towards the magic on the ground, still close enough to be an issue, and Hanna intended on using it. "I know what your kind does to mine, yes. Anywhere is unsafe from the likes of you."
Maurice locked his knees but still felt himself skidding backwards through the loose stone and dirt. He pushed back, trying to lean lower to the ground. If the dragon lifted his tail any higher, he'd go flying onto his back again and he wasn't sure he could take that happening two times in a row.
His head swam. This was so much to take in. He wished he'd chosen arrows. He was good with arrows, but all the heroes he saw paintings of used swords and beheaded their dragons.
Meanwhile, Maurice's ride had gotten tired of waiting at the bottom of the trail and came lumbering up the way. She was grey with a sway back--three guesses as to why. Her ears perked at the sight of her rider dealing with the dragon and she let out a shrill whinny.
The noise startled the prince and his concentration momentarily broke. "Sally, get outta here! SHOO!"
Hanna saw his chance, pushing with all the strength he had in his tail to get Maurice off balance, and when it happened he watched the prince fall back onto the rune he had drawn, the thing lighting up more brightly before settling back into that gentle glow again. It was a seal, one to trap, and it did it's job well. Maurice could move sure, and it was a large radius since his eyes were never too good with too small of detail, but it would do it's job. Eyeing Maurice's horse, he took a few steps back, just to be sure of being out of reach, and huffed at his prisoner.
"That's two of two, Prince. When that magic fades in a few hours, get out of here. I won't be so kind the next time." He turns to leave, but then his head swivels back, long neck curved oddly but easily, "You try any more funny business and I'll...I'll eat your stupid pony."
Twice. He'd been knocked onto his ass twice by this nasaly pink worm. Maybe if Hanna were blue Maurice wouldn't be so annoyed. He fought to his feet again and made to swing, but he, nor his sword, could pass outside the seal. The magic made his ears ring and at its touch he grit his teeth and retreated to the center of the strange symbol.
He almost didn't hear Hanna's threat.
"You cant'!" A new fear lit up in his eyes. "She's my father's! Mother will hang my head over the dining table!"
Just about past the dark rim of the cave, Hanna paused, turning again, considering the pathetic prince.
"All the more reason to behave!" And as he disappeared into the darkness, he let out a soft "OoooOOoooo" moan, like you might expect from a haunting. Be afraid Maurice, or Sally gets it!
Maurice stared hollowly after the dragon's barbed tail. If Hanna listened, the prince would not make so much as a peep until the seal wore off. Then, came footsteps.
Footsteps walking away.
He didn't go far though. As the sun wheeled overhead and the sky began to grow orange, the prince's grey pony grazed blissfully at the very furthest edge of the dragon's peak. The ridge overlooked the rolling green fields and the winding white rivers of Gallus. Maurice sat miserably on a rock nearby. He had a map unrolled across his lap and was pouring over it with all the intensity of a young man battling with his finals.
Perking his ears around the time he was sure the magic would wear off, he nodded satisfied when he heard the sound of retreating footsteps. What he didn't expect though, was that they didn't sound out for long. He should have been able to hear the young man walking for some time, but...he couldn't. Maurice had stopped, and he could still smell him.
Frustrating that he would stick around longer. The pink dragon muttered some swears under his breath and uncurled himself from his sleeping position, quietly making his way out of his cave again and craning his long neck to spot Maurice not too far away down the ridge. Slinking forward and trying not to attract attention from either Maurice and his horse, he pokes his head over Maurice's shoulder, straightens his glasses and considers the map.
"If you're looking for home, I assume it's that pretentious looking castle in the middle of your map, Prince."
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theattic2014-11-09 08:06 pm
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He yawns, his claws searching for his glasses before he plops them on his face, settling on his snout easily. "I don't feel like coming out to play," He responds in a rather board voice, deeper than one might think when they saw him, but not quite so deep that you would register it for a monster his size. "Do I have to?"
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"Uh--yes!" He forced the warble out of his voice. What if it was a really, really big dragon? He leaned nearer to the entrance. He could see the flickering runes in the dark and rocks that could be the dragon. "Come out so I can kill you! You're a dragon, I'm a prince, you know the drill!"
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Finally shaking the sleep from his eyes, he straightens his glasses and makes his way towards the mouth of the cave, appearing in front of his challenger with a raised brow. When he snorts, fire comes from his nose and he holds claws and wing in front of his mouth to hide the smile. "Is that crown made of paper?"
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"Are you pink??" The tip of Maurice's sword thunked harmlessly off his boot. Hanna was a lot smaller than he expected. And he could talk--another thing he hadn't expected. But those scales. He actually lifted a glove-clad hand to shield his eyes from the way the sun was glinting off of them. It was like their court jester threw up on a stain glass window.
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"I suggest you get over it quickly. I doubt your sword tip is going to cut any less because I'm pink." And if he tried anything, Hanna's teeth didn't discriminate either.
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"I can't kill a pink dragon!" he lifted his sword again, though his words were strained. This dragon was talking to him. Did his parents know dragons talked? Why didn't they tell him? Was this just...something he was supposed to know? Did he sleep through the wrong lecture? He'd grown up eating fried wings from all manner of creatures and not once had this ever come up.
"Where's the real dragon? Are you his butler or something?"
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"Obviously you were never taught manners, prince. You're shaming your home with that mouth of yours." His tail whipped behind him in irritation, claws digging into the stone as he applied more pressure, "Appearances aren't everything."
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He was regretting that now as his boots flew out from under him. His sword went flying and sparked against a rock several feet away. Nothing like this ever happened to the heroes in his scrolls. His eyes grew to the size of saucers as the monster's teeth flashed in front of them. The prongs on his cardboard crown started to blacken and crumple from the embers drifting out of Hanna's mouth.
Maurice struggled against the dragon's claws so that he could bring his arms up far enough to cover his eyes. "DON'T EAT ME! PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING!"
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Sitting up a little, he settles on his back haunches, wings folded at his side as he considers Maurice, "And maybe hand over your purse, please."
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"HEY!" Maurice pushed himself to his feet but then remembered exactly what he was dealing with and stopped short in his tracks, face almost colored enough to match Hanna's scales. He hated how he felt the actual urge to reach down to the coin pouch at his hip. He set his jaw and forced back his wibbling. He wasn't going to get anything done if he didn't behave like a knight...and after the dragon was dead, nobody would know how laughable his first try had been.
"Fine. Sorry." It was the same sorry said by brothers forced to apologize after pulling their sister's hair. He held out a hand. "Can you gimmi me back my sword back so we can do this the right way?"
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"I'll give you a moment to collect yourself, just tell me when you're ready." He sighs, as if it's a chore and starts to draw something in the dirt between them absently.
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"Sorry...," he mumbled more quietly as he bent down to reclaim his sword. He wiped the hilt off against the side of his trousers because ew dragon germs. Then, he took up his fighting stance, completely oblivious to Hanna's drawing. Dragons talking was a big enough revelation. He'd heard a crow could talk if you split its tongue. He had yet to consider the idea of dragons being able to write.
"And there's nothing wrong with my teeth by the way!"
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"When you're ready, my lord."
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With what he hoped was an impressive warcry, Maurice hefted his sword and charged, aiming to wound the creature's nearest limb. If it couldn't fly, it'd be all over.
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"Watch out," he warned, feeling perhaps too kind, "who knows what that will do to you."
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He looked at his boots.
He'd never seen a marking like this before. His mother employed one wizard and that wizard's main job was to deter salesmen and make sure her stockings never had runs in them. He let out a yelp and stumbled backwards, trying to get away from the magenta rune. Had he touched it!?
"FIGHT FAIR!"
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His long body curled and curved, settling on the ground easily as he gave Maurice a questioning look. "Would you call it fair if I came to your castle and called you out? Or would that be slaughter?"
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"I'd call that convenient! It's a two day ride from the castle. You're a dragon in the Gallus kingdom, you know what happens to dragons!" He charged again, aiming for that troublesome tail this time. Something about the blow didn't fall true.
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In retaliation his tail pushed, meaning to shove the prince back towards the magic on the ground, still close enough to be an issue, and Hanna intended on using it. "I know what your kind does to mine, yes. Anywhere is unsafe from the likes of you."
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His head swam. This was so much to take in. He wished he'd chosen arrows. He was good with arrows, but all the heroes he saw paintings of used swords and beheaded their dragons.
Meanwhile, Maurice's ride had gotten tired of waiting at the bottom of the trail and came lumbering up the way. She was grey with a sway back--three guesses as to why. Her ears perked at the sight of her rider dealing with the dragon and she let out a shrill whinny.
The noise startled the prince and his concentration momentarily broke. "Sally, get outta here! SHOO!"
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"That's two of two, Prince. When that magic fades in a few hours, get out of here. I won't be so kind the next time." He turns to leave, but then his head swivels back, long neck curved oddly but easily, "You try any more funny business and I'll...I'll eat your stupid pony."
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Twice. He'd been knocked onto his ass twice by this nasaly pink worm. Maybe if Hanna were blue Maurice wouldn't be so annoyed. He fought to his feet again and made to swing, but he, nor his sword, could pass outside the seal. The magic made his ears ring and at its touch he grit his teeth and retreated to the center of the strange symbol.
He almost didn't hear Hanna's threat.
"You cant'!" A new fear lit up in his eyes. "She's my father's! Mother will hang my head over the dining table!"
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"All the more reason to behave!" And as he disappeared into the darkness, he let out a soft "OoooOOoooo" moan, like you might expect from a haunting. Be afraid Maurice, or Sally gets it!
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Footsteps walking away.
He didn't go far though. As the sun wheeled overhead and the sky began to grow orange, the prince's grey pony grazed blissfully at the very furthest edge of the dragon's peak. The ridge overlooked the rolling green fields and the winding white rivers of Gallus. Maurice sat miserably on a rock nearby. He had a map unrolled across his lap and was pouring over it with all the intensity of a young man battling with his finals.
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Frustrating that he would stick around longer. The pink dragon muttered some swears under his breath and uncurled himself from his sleeping position, quietly making his way out of his cave again and craning his long neck to spot Maurice not too far away down the ridge. Slinking forward and trying not to attract attention from either Maurice and his horse, he pokes his head over Maurice's shoulder, straightens his glasses and considers the map.
"If you're looking for home, I assume it's that pretentious looking castle in the middle of your map, Prince."
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