The wind dragon hatchling heaved a sigh, still not looking at her friend. Instead, her hot pink eyes were narrowed at the bloodied fox’s corpse.
Her silence made the violet yearling antsy. “Gretel?”
She jolted. “Huh?” When she caught his puzzled green eyes, she shrank. “I just… never saw a revealer hunt before. I didn't know about traps or how reveals worked. It's… unique.”
“You don't seem impressed by it, though…” he pointed out, the young revealer’s Z-shaped tail straightening in what his companion had come to recognize as disappointment.
The baby wyvern glanced between him and the bait, feeling guilty that her lack of support made the former sad. “Sorry… If that's what you need to do, then I won't stop you, but… I don't know if I can watch, or even eat your kills, without feeling bad for them…”
He seemed torn, then briefly shut his eyes. Gretel thought she caught sight of the blue gemstone that was naturally on his forehead glinting for just a moment. Then his demeanor completely changed and his tail lifted once more. “Okay. Then I won't do that anymore,” he declared with a slight, but genuine, smile.
“...What?” Gretel was thrown by his sudden change of heart. He was defensive about this just a minute ago! “N-No–don’t let me stop you–”
“It's okay,” he laughed reassuringly, and it was that sound akin to relief again. “I'm too small to hunt predators right now, anyway, so I can settle for the bait until I’m older.”
The tiny wind dragoness relaxed at that, but her sensitive hearing couldn't decipher what emotion was ‘akin’ to his relief. Then his words registered. “Wait–you haven't been hunting predators all this time?”
“Not yet. I'll have to when I'm older, though.”
“Then what were you planning on doing just now?!”
“I was… planning on impressing you by trying,” he confessed. His tail lowered, and Gretel once again felt guilty for not supporting him. Then the gem glinted again–she was sure of it now–and he faced her with another small wholehearted smile. “Guess I won't have to fake it around you, though, so that's good!”
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The striped hatchling tensed this time. There was no trace of dishonesty in his voice or body language, yet the suddenness of his cheer threw her for a loop. “Are you sure? Are you okay?”
“Of course! At least, I will be, after I eat,” he joked when his stomach audibly growled. He took a seat and, as promised, began consuming the fox. Gretel could only stare after him, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. The revealer noticed and blinked, confused. “Want some?” he guessed.
She was taken aback by his pure innocence. Am I just used to seeing the mean dragons on my travels? I feel like someone this nice couldn't exist. But then, I've never made a friend before–so maybe this is how friends act…?
The violet dragon tilted his head when she hadn't answered. “Well?”
“Huh? Oh! It’s okay, I already–” Gretel stopped herself, suddenly recalling that a social dragon’s offer to share their prey meant they respected the recipient. As a solitary type, she never thought she'd find herself interacting with a social one–or anyone, for that matter–and until this moment, she never thought she'd want to. But the tiny wyvern found herself feeling warm inside to be included and catered to–not only from his gesture with the prey, but also his willingness to put off hunting when she'd expressed discomfort about revealers’ natural methods. She smiled. “Actually, yeah: I’d like some."
The two ate together and chatted about the events of their games until the sun eventually set.
“I should get going,” Gretel said, suddenly aware of how late it was getting. The spade-shaped tip of her tail twitched with unease. Wind dragons were never designed to stay in one area for too long, especially when they were vulnerable hatchlings, but she had been so occupied with her nameless new friend that she’d completely lost track of time.
The revealer’s green ears lowered. “Huh? How come? Is something wrong?”
She shook her head, realizing that her dragon type's nomadic lifestyle was foreign to him. “No, it's just instinct,” she explained, and he was clearly relieved to know he hadn't caused her distress this time. “Wind types are… weak. Stronger dragons might prey on us when they see we're still or sleeping,” she admitted. “But we're also fast–so if we aren't still, and fly to sleep in places they can't see, then they won't be able to catch us!”
The yearling gaped at her, both fascinated and horrified. “Oh yeah… you did seem worried about other dragons trying to eat you,” he remembered, his tone sympathetic. “It’s okay. Do what you need to.”
“I'll be back tomorrow!” Gretel promised. “Oh–and don't forget to practice your singing, okay? I mean, it's good right now, but if you can get comfortable expressing yourself fully with it, then it'll be perfect!”
He seemed thoughtful at that, then gave her a determined look. “Okay…! Goodnight–see you tomorrow.”