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→ such a frightened fawn is best far from the road,
i know, i know. overwatch gif. but my google-fu was failing.
a.
( The storm rolls in sudden and without forecast. One moment the night is clear and the next there is nothing but cloud and rain so thick it falls in sharp sheets to the ground. Anyone sensible would have retreated indoors as soon as it started, but for those daring and brave the thunder might be enough to scatter them. All night it rages, wind howling and the sky flashing brightly with dark shapes. At one point the scream of the night starts to sound more animal, something shrill and pained in the wailing of the weather.
And then, just before dawn, it stops.
The morning comes, full of mist and the smell of damp earth. It's hot, humid weight pouring down on the ground. And out in the swamp there's a new shape, larger than an alligator, reptilian green and half submerged in the water. It's definitely not one of the normal creatures that reside there, too large claws scouring marks in the bank, the large ears that twitch with every sound. Then there's the glitter of it's scales. Upon closer inspection it shines like an oil spill, blues and greens and pinks shifting as the creature breathes.
It groans, shifts, bloody foreleg exposed. And then it opens its eyes. Don't worry. It won't eat you. It's not hungry yet. )
b.
( The dragon - because that's what it is - shrinks down whenever it's inside the house. It takes up space in all the nooks and crannies, curling into empty teacups or needed shoes, winding around the couch cushions with a proprietary look on it's face. On the occasion someone almost sits on it the offender gets a bite on the backside for their their troubles. Just because it's thankful for the respite doesn't mean it has to play nice.
There's something strange about it. Sometimes it acts almost human, head cocked and listening whenever someone talks, tiny claws shredding up whatever sweet treat its stolen. Sometimes it even seeks out company - not with anyone it's bit though - curling near them with steam rising from its nose. )
c.
( It takes days. Almost a week. And then one morning when the dragon is chasing flecks of light on the floor there's a blur and a shift in the air. Between one second and the next its shape changes. No longer is it a kitten sized reptile, but now a fully formed man.
A fully formed and very naked man.
He blinks from where he's sat on the floor, too long hair falling into his eyes, jaw shadowed with scruff. He looks like he hasn't seen the light of a good bathroom in a while. Maybe he hasn't even been human. There's a scar on his arm the exact shape that had been on the dragon's foreleg and he prods at it carefully. But eventually he lifts his gaze to whoever's nearest and speaks. )
Hello.
( His voice is deep, cracked with disuse. )
Where am I?
d.
( Someone gives him pants, but he ignores the shirt in favour of letting the sun warm his skin from the window where he's taken residence. He's cross-legged, blinking down at a screen with his hair in his eyes, a furrow between his two brows.
Whatever he's reading, it isn't happy. )
How long -- ? ( A pause, a cough, Ki looking up to squint across the room. ) How long ago did the war end?
b.
There's a flamingo.
And there's also a bunch of weird arms and some tentacles. They're kind of flopped all over.
That is, flopped all over Ten, who is flopped all over his nest, which is just getting bigger and bigger every time he can find new pillows and blankets.
He's making snuffling sounds into said pillow. Maybe asleep? Possibly? ]
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He scales the wall to get to near the open space, wriggling through with a noisy huff. At first he doesn't see anything, too busy freezing at the sound of breathing, but when he's not swiftly kicked back out he takes the moment to look around. It's beautiful. There's so many things and he immediately creeps forward to bat at a ball of tin with his claw, ears low and eyes interested as it rattles along the floor.
This is a good nest. He wants to know who owns it.
And so he creeps closer in the shadows. )
no subject
Some have roads on them. Who knows what it means!
There's some clothing piled up in a corner, all of it very large. By the door, a solitary pair of flip flops. They are pink and they have ponies on them.
Because he's scaled the wall, the little dragon will not have to deal with the monstrosity that is the giant dresser, but if he can get into some of the drawers, a few of which are partly open, there's a host of dust bunnies, slightly moth-eaten clothes, and other knickknacks in there, too.
On the bed, Ten flops about a little, almost rolling onto his back, but then stopping himself. He blinks bleary eyes. ] Sleepy...
no subject
Has Ten ever heard a dragon sneeze? Because the dragon is sneezing. And he keeps sneezing. The sound of a murmured word makes him freeze though, nose tickling as he backs up into the dark of the dresser, the fluff on his spine and tail fluffing up in warning.
He's fearsome, okay? )
no subject
Ten blinks a few more times and forces himself into an upright position. ]
Who'sazr? [ he asks, nigh incoherently. He runs his hands through his hair and slaps his cheeks a few times. ] 'lo?
[ Someone is very much not awake. But how to sleep through dragon sneezes, right? ]
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Dragons 100% don't laugh. )
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Nest. Thing.
He squints. ]
Are you laughing at me?
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That is until he hurls himself at the item and falls over his own feet. Then he remembers and looks up and around, almost as if embarrassed. )
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He scoots closer to the edge of the bed. ]
I've got other interesting stuff here, [ he says, cocking his head to the side as if to indicate any one of several piles or stacks of...
Things. ]