Toweringly tall, the dragon stood just a bit taller than me. The edges of its shimmering copper scales held a hint of green, lending an iridescent quality to its form. With a graceful motion, it folded its wings along its sides, bringing the rabbit it had seized down to the grass. I watched in a mix of awe and trepidation as it began to consume the prey. Blood trickled down from its chin as it tore into the meal, its frills along its back relaxing with each bite. Despite its imposing presence, the dragon maintained an almost regal poise, its feet grounded firmly on the earth, its massive tail coiled around them.

Compelled by a mix of curiosity and uncertainty, I took cautious steps closer to the creature. It paused in its feasting, turning its attention toward me. Its eyes, a captivating blend of coppery green, locked onto my every movement. Wren's observation proved true: the creature before us was indeed a dragon, a copper wyrmling. The images I had encountered in the monastery's books paled in comparison to the real thing. These magnificent beings were smaller than I had envisioned.

As I inched closer, the wyrmling began to approach me. I stood transfixed, my heart racing like a startled deer frozen in the presence of a predator. How could this be? Your kind perished in the cataclysmic War of Death. The dragon's snout brushed against my outstretched hand, jolting me from my thoughts. My instinctive step back was swift, yet the wyrmling mirrored my motion, darting behind me as though seeking shelter. A strange and disconcerting feeling settled over me as it seemed to look to me for protection, as if I could shield its massive form from perceived danger.

Wren and Zershoon closed the distance between us, but the dragon's low growl brought them to an abrupt halt. Frozen, they observed the standoff, while I remained rooted in place, a living barrier between them and the enigmatic creature.

Our gazes met once more, and the wyrmling tilted its head to the side, a curious gesture that conveyed an unspoken message. Suddenly, with a powerful leap, it soared into the air, unfurling its wings that sliced through the sky. It retreated, alighting upon a tree at the edge of the forest, its vibrant form now silhouetted against the lush foliage.

I exhaled a long-held breath, a release of tension I hadn't realised was gripping me. Wren rushed to my side as I sank to the ground, but a sharp push sent her recoiling. Her downcast eyes and anxious foot-tapping showed her unease. The world around me felt like it was spinning, clouds whirling too fast overhead. How should I even react to such an encounter? Panic began to tighten its grip on me, my heart racing within my chest.

"Breathe slowly," Zershoon's graceful signing brought me back from the brink. He seemed surprisingly composed, as if dragons were a common sight. "You're okay."

Yes, I am okay. I'm here. I forced myself to shake off the dizziness, to focus on the reality around me. I cast my gaze back toward the forest, where the green eyes that had met mine were now absent. Wren snapped back to attention, tossing the partially-eaten rabbit into the woods. Part of me half-expected the dragon to emerge from its hiding place to claim its unfinished meal.

Zershoon's hand extended toward me, an anchor in this moment of uncertainty. I took it, allowing him to help me rise to my feet. My legs trembled beneath me, the aftershocks of the encounter still resonating through my body.

"We can probably make some good progress if we travel the rest of the day," Wren's voice gained strength as she spoke, her smile now tinged with a touch of restraint. I nodded in agreement, my desire to write down my thoughts waning. With that, we resumed our journey toward the elusive Shuneerean Desert.

Wren's footfalls echoed with a certain vigor, a sharp contrast to the nearly soundless steps of Zershoon. The rustling of gear reminded me that we were not alone in our unease. The forest seemed to stretch onward without end, its trees growing ever thinner as we ventured deeper. The trunks appeared to merge with the horizon, extending beyond the reach of sight. The summer winds bore a harsher edge, and the clouds ahead gathered into darker masses. A storm brewed on the horizon, a common phenomenon during these summer months. While the days might provide some respite, the nights promised their own challenges. Storms were but one of the many threats that would mark our travels.

======================

The storm descended upon us with unrelenting force, a torrent of rain pelting us mercilessly. The wind howled, steering the rain directly into our eyes, making it difficult to see. Lightning tore through the sky, followed by booming thunder that reverberated with raw power. The forest, a distant memory now, offered no shelter on these open plains. All I could do was hope that this tempest would soon run its course.

Zershoon took great care to shield his guitar from the weather's wrath, while Wren, rather surprisingly, set her bow down and began twirling in the rain. A quirky dance in the midst of a downpour. Humans, I thought, with their spectrum of responses to the world around them. Zershoon's soft chuckle reached me, and he pulled out his guitar, defying the deluge with his music.

"Why bring out your guitar? Won't the rain ruin it?" I signed my query to him.

"I think it'll be alright," he replied confidently. And then, the music began. Zershoon's melody intertwined with the rhythm of the raindrops, the thunder playing its part like an oversized drum. The lightning became a mere backdrop, enhancing the atmosphere of the song. Strangely enough, it felt as though the rain itself slowed in its descent. The same way time seemed to halt when the sword pierced his chest that night.

Wren soon found her own cadence, spinning and dancing in synchrony with the rain's rhythm. Her white skirt sprayed droplets around her as her hair clung to her shirt. It had been ages since I had witnessed such genuine happiness in someone. She seemed untouched by the weight of personal tragedies. She reminded me so much of my mother. As the song drew to a close, Wren executed a graceful bow before settling down across from me.

"What's the matter?" she asked, concern etching her features.

I retrieved my notebook and pencil. "I'm fine," I scribbled, attempting to reassure her.

"You sure? You looked like you were reliving something you didn't want to see." Wren's observation was astute, hitting right at the heart of the matter. It was a difficult truth to admit, but she was right. My mind had spiralled into the past, rehashing the events of fifteen years ago—the very reason I had left the safety of my home.

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I showed her the piece of paper once more, reaffirming that I was okay. She sighed audibly, her gaze shifting to Zershoon, as if looking for answers from him. He responded by presenting his own piece of paper. She seemed intrigued by his words, leaning in to read. Her expression changed, and a touch of sadness laced her voice when she spoke. What had he told her? I couldn't help but wonder.

"Well, I'll go find something fresh for us to eat," Wren announced, her tone brighter now as she stood up. Her skirt was a mess of mud, and her bow remained clutched against her side. She strode away, her feet sinking into the soggy ground as she went.

Zershoon's fingers snapped together, a signal to direct my attention back to him. "We've only known each other for a few days, but are you sure you're okay?" his signing questioned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I signed back, offering a reassuring smile. "Just exhausted."

He nodded, stowing his guitar away with great care, shielding it once again from the persistent rain. With my thoughts swirling, I paced back and forth, wrestling with the events that had unfolded earlier in the day. Why had the dragon hidden behind me? What was its purpose for lurking in the forest, watching our preparations to leave? And why had it taken the rabbit in the first place? Unanswered questions hung in the air, mingling with the scent of rain and the distant rumble of thunder.

"I'm back!" Wren's jubilant shout cut through the drumming of the rain as she dashed toward us, clutching three rabbits in her grasp. I was honestly surprised she managed to catch anything, given her human limitations and the disadvantageous weather conditions.

"How are we going to cook those?" I scribbled hurriedly on the paper, the pencil nearly tearing through the damp sheet.

“Oh... I uh… didn't think about that," Wren admitted, her gaze dropping to the lifeless rabbits in her hands. "I guess we’ll just have to settle for dried venison tonight. I was hoping the rain would ease up by the time I got back. Guess I miscalculated." An awkward chuckle escaped her lips. She seemed to withdraw into her own thoughts, her mistake affecting her more than she'd let on.

Zershoon tapped her on the shoulder and handed her a piece of paper. Her eyes scanned its content, back and forth, absorbing whatever message he had conveyed.

"Thanks, Zershoon. I needed that," Wren's spirits lifted once more, her demeanour shifting back to its previous cheery state. She set her sack onto the ground, the weight causing it to sink into the mud. From her bag, she retrieved a sheathed knife and cloth meat bags, preparing to skin the rabbits. Her movements were flawlessly executed, the knife slicing with precision. It was an impressive sight, the way she handled the blade. After skinning the rabbits, she divided the meat into portions and stashed them in designated bags. Her hands, stained with blood, she held out into the rain, allowing the water to wash the crimson stains away.

I shifted my gaze away from Wren, not wanting her to catch me observing her. She might misconstrue my intentions. Above, the sky transitioned to a deep blue hue, and the rain's intensity gradually subsided. Along the western horizon, the sun managed to break through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the landscape before slowly sinking behind the distant hills. The clouds dispersed, revealing the moon that began its ascent from the eastern horizon, casting an ethereal radiance upon the sky.

Wren extracted a sleeping bag from her backpack and carefully unrolled it onto the ground. I watched as she slid into its comforting embrace.

“Why did she go inside it?” I signed to Zershoon.

“She's inexperienced in our way of life. This is her first real adventure. We'll need to guide her,” he signed back.

“So, we're essentially looking after her?” My brows knitted together, my lips pursing in mild frustration.

“If that's how you see it, then yes. We're keeping an eye on the human,” Zershoon pulled out his own sleeping bag.

“Why do you both move your hands like that? It's like you're having a conversation with each other.” Wren's voice was hushed.

I retrieved the crinkled sheet of paper. “It's called sign language. It's our primary means of communication,” I wrote.

Her eyes scanned the paper. “I'd like to learn sometime, if you'd be willing to teach me.”

Zershoon's chuckle echoed through the air as I shot her a wary look. While she appeared genuine, I held my reservations about a human's true intentions. Trusting a fox seemed wiser than trusting a human. “Maybe,” I wrote. “It's a complex language.”

A smile adorned her face. “Every challenge is worth conquering. Sign language might just be my next endeavour.” Wren seemed to approach life with an unusual optimism. “Well, good night, Zershoon and Asara.” And just like that, the human was asleep, her words drifting off into the night.

What a peculiar human. I loosened the knot securing my sleeping bag and assessed the surroundings once again, deeming the area suitable enough to rest in the bedroll. My focus shifted to Zershoon. "I'll be using the sleeping bag. If there's any disturbance, I'll sense it, and you'll notice it," I conveyed through signs. He acknowledged my words and settled down atop his sleeping bag. I slipped into mine and gazed at the sky, patiently awaiting Zershoon's slumber to take over.

======================

The sky began to lighten as birds fluttered around, painting the scene with life. Everyone else was lost in slumber, but sleep had eluded me last night and morning was now upon us. My sleeping bag clung to my skin as I extricated myself from it. After rolling it up, I secured it to my backpack, disregarding the mud that now clung to it. My limbs crackled as I stood up, and I scanned the vicinity around our campsite. An unshakable feeling nagged at me, compelling me to believe that there was something I must witness at this very moment. As if missing it would mean losing a chance forever, I ventured away from the sleeping figures of Wren and Zershoon.

A deep rumble, akin to a resonating drumbeat, thrummed through the expanse. The birds paid it no heed, engrossed in their morning rituals of searching for sustenance. The sun kissed the eastern horizon, casting a warm glow upon the land. And there, in that luminous embrace, I spotted the source of the drum-like vibration.

Specks of coppery light danced upon the grass, forming a delicate pattern that seemed to pulse with life. The young dragon that had evaded us yesterday stood a short distance away, a mesmerising sight to behold. Its grumbling voice resonated with a rhythm that seemed almost like a song, a melody that only I could hear. Under the rising sun, it appeared majestic, its head held high, as it sang a song that spoke to the very heart of the world, a melody meant only for me.

I retrieved my pencil and notebook, the graphite scratching rhythmically against the paper as I sketched. Every curve and contour of the dragon's form materialised before me. As the dragon's low vibrations ceased, my drawing was complete. I raised my gaze from the sketch, only to be met by the dragon itself, now seated before me. Its eyes weren't those of a predator, but rather of a sentient being aware of its surroundings, seemingly curious about the world it inhabited. We locked eyes for a fleeting moment, and then its attention shifted to the paper in my hands. The dragon drew closer, its presence overwhelming yet strangely gentle. I held my position, breath caught in my throat. The creature nudged my hands, dislodging the notebook and causing it to land on the ground with a soft thud. Its nose, covered in smooth scales, brushed against my skin as it liberated my hands from the notebook, letting them fall at my sides. Its gaze returned to meet mine, mirroring my inquisitive tilt of the head. Its ears perked forward, as though anticipating a sound that only it could discern.

"ASARA!" Wren's voice shattered the tranquillity, echoing across the plain.

The dragon's attention was diverted, and I turned towards Wren's voice, leaving behind the enchanting encounter. I retrieved my notebook and followed the sound, soon meeting up with Wren and Zershoon.

"There you are! I was starting to worry that something happened to you. But I guess you're quite capable on your own. I'm relieved you're safe," Wren chattered at a rapid pace. Zershoon joined us as well.

"Are you ready to move on?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm ready." To the Shuneerean Desert we ventured, leaving behind the mysterious dragon that had momentarily captured my attention. I cast one final glance over my shoulder, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the dragon once more. Mayhaps our paths would cross again, and I would have the chance to hear its song once more.