→ 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?
no subject
( But pants are definitely more of an issue right now. Not that he's unused to people seeing him undressed after a transformation. They're just usually old men who have long forgotten these sort of things. So he thanks Dash quietly, pulling them on quickly. )
Have I -- have I been here long?
( Why can't he remember anything. )
no subject
[ He hands over the pants, averting his eyes a little until the other is dressed. ] I'm sorry again, um, this might be shocking, but I think it's been about a week since you first came here?
[ If he is indeed correct that his companion here actually transformed and there wasn't some kind of other something happening there. ]
I'm Dash, by the way!