Joseph woke up feeling stiff from the rock he’d apparently slept on during the night. Something that annoyed him to no end since he’d made sure to clean where he planned on sleeping. Still, he felt reluctant to get up and lazily nuzzled against his arm, then wrinkled his nose at the scruff he felt. At some point, he needed to shave…Well, maybe. He always wanted to grow something out, but his father usually grumbled at him till he shaved it off. And…So, he was going to see if he could grow something. No one could really tell him not to, now could they?
After a bit longer, he finally got up and worked on burying the remains of the fire in between bites of food. Then, he dusted himself off, packed up the rest of his things, and started for the village. The outskirts, painfully, reminded him of Murval. Different pastures held crops or livestock, and in the pastures some of the villagers had already set to work, tending or harvesting as needed. He continued into the village where he looked for what might serve as the market.
Considering how small the village seemed, he didn’t know if he’d even find one. Some of the smaller ones tended to be communal when it came to farming: the food was stored in a localized spot and everyone owned the livestock. Any excess was hauled to a larger town or city to be traded off for supplies or sold for coin. While odd to him, it seemed to work for some places.
He tried to ignore the stares or how people shooed the children inside their homes. Joseph didn’t know if it was from his height or his eyes or both. When he reached the village center, he took a good look around and noted the distinct lack of a market. Between that and the subtle tension that hung in the air? Moving on would likely be the best idea.
“What do you want?” The male voice from behind him was tense and curt.
Joseph turned around to face the man who held some sort of walking stick. Behind him, people had gathered and all wielded different farming tools. He’d always imagined such scenarios were that of fantasy, but then again, a pitchfork could probably do some damage with a well-placed jab. He spoke quietly, “I was only interested in supplies.”
“Well, you’ll fine none here. Now get out.”
Normally, his father would have already been dragging him away to avoid a confrontation, but Joseph’s belligerent streak had reared its head. “Why? I’ve done nothing wrong.”
The villager tightened his grip on his walking stick. “We don’t like your kind around here.”
A muscle twitched in Joseph’s jaw, but he pushed down his temper, for the moment. As temperamental as he could be, he was also a planner. He raised an eyebrow and took a step forward. “My kind? Oh, please good sir…Tell me. What is ‘my kind’?”
“Ah…” The villager glanced away, unsure of what to reply with. He only knew the man in front of him wasn’t human, but he didn’t really know what he might be. Too many different things lurked out in the wilds and stating the wrong race could easily as dangerous or more so than confronting one.
Joseph slowly stalked forward, his moments predatory. Already, a plan had sprung to mind, something he’d wanted to do to one of the townsfolk at Murval, but never had the chance. He stopped in front of the other man and glared down at him. “You should be more careful with your words, little human.” His voice came out as a low growl and then he grinned slightly, scenting the fear from the villager. “May your crops wither and turn to dust. May the milk of your animals be sour and their young weak. May your kinsmen turn their backs on you as you did me. If you’re lucky, maybe your so called ‘gods’ will take pity on you.”
A horrified expression formed on the villager’s face as Joseph spoke. Once he finished, he simply took a step back, turned around, and continued walking through the village. Behind him, he heard hushed whispering, but no one dared follow him. Either way, it left him with a smug sense of satisfaction. Then, he heard the raspy sound of his father’s voice in his ear.
“You realize they’ll likely lynch him, Joseph.”
“I’m aware. Maybe he shouldn’t have been such an asshole.” He adjusted the strap on the satchel and glanced towards a pasture when a cow bellowed loudly.
An exasperated sigh came from beside him. “I taught you better than this.”
“You did, but I got tired of superstitious people who treat me like shit a long time ago. You realize all those fights I got into were because the other children saw me as different? Did you know their parents did nothing and turned a blind eye to them throwing stones?” Joseph scoffed. “I tried your method, Father, of talking them down and playing the pacifist. It didn’t work, it just made them think I was weak. So, once I started talking with my fists, then they got the message.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What were you going to do? ‘You shouldn’t hit people, Joseph’, ‘You should be the better person, Joseph’, blah blah blah. It didn’t work! You damn well know the townsfolk didn’t like me and thought Mother had made some deal with a forest spirit. They claim that’s why she died after I turned twelve.” He shook his head at the silence. “Whatever. You and the townsfolk can apparently talk to each other in some fashion. Go gripe at them and leave me alone.”
He didn’t feel surprised when he didn’t get a reply. Sure, now that he thought about it, he felt a bit bad for snapping at his father…But the past few days had been beyond stressful. For a moment, he wondered if some of it was from some nature deity being angry for him not showing the proper respect during his hunts. Joseph discounted the idea. Nature gods acted through just that: nature. They weaved their magic and brought droughts, floods, or locusts. No, they didn’t control the hand of man; they could only influence it.
So, Joseph continued traveling and made his way to the next village in hopes of procuring supplies. It would have been great to claim the first village was an exception…Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case. Joseph received a similar welcome from many of the places he traveled through. One town outright attacked him. Too bad for them, he was in a bad mood from being tired and hungry.
His supplies were running low, and while capable of hunting for himself, he really didn’t want to have to make a detour from his travels every time his stomach rumbled. So, he trudged into the town in hopes of finding a butcher willing to sell to him. Unsurprisingly, the residents stared at him. He ignored this and simply hoped that it wouldn’t turn to hostility.
“Look. I have the money to pay for it.” He showed the butcher the coins in his hand, but was met with disdain.
“I’m well aware of the trickery Fae do. I’ll have none of it.”
“I…Fae? Seriously? I’m not a damn Fae. Even if I was, do you think I’d be so obvious with trickery? All I want to do is buy the meat and leave.” Finally, he just sighed and shook his head. “Fine, keep your meat.”
He dropped the coins back into the pouch and stuffed it into the satchel as he stepped out of the butcher’s shop. A group of four men stood outside the shop and none of them had a friendly expression. He made an annoyed noise. “I get it. I get it. I’m leaving.”
Joseph only made it a few feet before the first rock hit him square in the back. He could deal with the insults and glares, but when it turned physical? That was another matter entirely. He paused and then turned around. “I already said I was leaving.”
Rather than getting a response, he had to duck another rock. This time, he growled and let his things slip off of his shoulder to drop to the ground. “If you’re so eager for violence, why don’t you get over here and fight like a man instead of throwing rocks like a child.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
To his surprise all four of them approached him, fists up. Joseph ducked the first few blows and landed a few of his own; rather than going for faces, he went for the ribs. One man let out a sharp noise of pain and stumbled backwards, holding his side. Joseph grinned, but the action was short lasting when a fist caused his head to snap to the side. He spat out blood before returning the punch. The man crumpled to the ground, out cold.
The remaining two exchanged glances and bolted, leaving Joseph to spit out another glob of bloody spit. He grabbed his things and continued onwards. That night, he hunted as a dragon…Or tried to. Though he found indications of deer, he couldn’t find the herd and simply had to assume that they’d already moved on. Finally, he had to satisfy his hunger with a few rabbits he managed to kill.
Joseph woke up to the sound of thunder, and he squinted at the sky above him before quickly gathering his things. The clouds above were dark and seemed angry, suggesting that the storm brewing would be hellacious. Frankly, the idea of being caught out in a thunderstorm didn’t sound appealing and so he hurried along in hopes of reaching the next town before the storm.
Joseph didn’t. When he reached the town, he was soaked, a bit muddy, and chilled. Thankfully, the place had a tavern with lodging and he hoped that he’d be able to get a room. The idea of a warm bath and a semi soft bed sounded beyond heavenly. However, he didn’t get his hopes up due to how he’d been treated thus far.
The owner initially refused to offer him anything. However, after a thorough berating from his wife, the man reluctantly allowed him to sleep in front of the fireplace in the commons and offered him a lukewarm bowl of stew. Joseph didn’t complain. It was better than being out in the storm. Quietly, he sighed and laid down in front of the fire. At least Kovis wasn’t much further. Perhaps it’d be better to travel the rest of the way as a dragon. He’d certainly get there a great deal faster.
Morning came far to early in the form of a kick to the side. Joseph instinctively snarled and rolled over to glare at the perpetrator. The tavern owner gave him a wide-eyed stare in return, but then gestured at the door. Sighing, he sat up and rubbed his face in an attempt to wake himself up. Apparently, the kick was his cue to leave. So, he quietly gathered his things and walked out of the tavern without breakfast. The morning light caused him to squint for a few moments before his eyes adjusted. Already, Joseph could feel the stares from the people around him, and so he simply moved on.
Once he’d gotten far enough away from the town, he shifted. As he picked up his satchel in his mouth, he decided that he really needed to come up with a better way of carrying his things. Eventually, the leather would rot thanks to the near daily exposure to his mouth. Plus, he couldn’t help but play with the strap with his tongue.
By mid-morning, his stomach grumbled angrily prompting him to stash the satchel and go on a hunt. The animals he hunted now were no longer the slim deer of the forests. He hunted elk and moose, creatures capable of causing serious damage if he wasn’t careful.
Quietly, he laid in the grass and watched a young moose bull graze in the shallows of a river. If he could strike while the animal’s head was submerged, he’d have a very good chance of a successful hunt. The sheer size of the thing would mean a full belly. Finally, he began creeping forward each time the bull lowered his head and laid down when he lifted it.
It took time, but he eventually got within striking range. Impatiently, he waited as the bull took his sweet time in looking around before finally lowering his head back down. Joseph lunged forward and leapt onto the bull moose’s back. The sudden, extra weight caused the moose to collapse and bellow in surprise, which quickly turned into a sound of pain as claws and teeth sunk into his flesh.
With a bit more work, Joseph ripped the moose’s throat out and quickly downed the meat as the animal rapidly bled out under him. When it collapsed, he stood up, grabbed it by the throat, and began dragging it back to where he’d set up his ‘camp’ in a small grove of trees. There, he started digging into his meal, greedily eating.
The sound of a twig snapping caught his attention and he looked up. A cursory glance around didn’t reveal the source of the sound, but when he scented the air, he caught a hint of human. He doubted that whoever it was would be brave enough to bother him. Only a fool would tangle with a predator of his size, and most people who ventured into the forests tended to have most of their brain.
So, he resumed eating again. Joseph felt the impact in his side a millisecond before he felt the pain. Then a second pain in his neck. Arrows. Snarling, he charged in the general direction that the arrows had come from, then spun around on his hind legs, snorting when he heard someone running.
The hint of vivid blue was the only thing he needed to lock onto his new quarry. He stalked after them, still moving on his hind legs, even as they ran towards the grasslands. Once out into the open, he got a good look at his attacker: a young man, likely no older than him.
There were rules when it came to hunting: never loosen your bow unless you’re certain it’s a killing shot…Especially when hunting large quarry or predators. In their pain, they often will attack. This young hunter had clearly forgotten this lesson. Reaching under himself, Joseph pulled the arrow out of his side, then did the same to the arrow in his neck. With the arrows removed, both injuries began mending.
Sure, the hunter had a head start, but he was faster. He leapt forward and gave chase, like a hound after a rabbit. In front of him, he heard the young man yelling. A part of him knew that the man could be part of a group and had been sent out to get lunch, and Joseph knew he could be running right into a hunter’s camp…But he didn’t particularly care.
Joseph was capable of being both quadrupedal and bipedal. He preferred being on all fours since it was better for endurance running, but when he really wanted to catch something? Bipedal is what he wanted. If anything, it made him more terrifying. Less a dragon and more an ancient beast of yore that roamed before humans and elves and all the others came to be.
He caught up with his quarry quickly. His jaws snapped closed around the young hunter’s torso, prompting the young man to scream in his ear. Without letting go, he hooked his claws into the ribcage and pulled. The upper half of his torso landed on the ground while the lower part remained in Joseph’s mouth…Which quickly disappeared down his throat. Then, he grabbed the rest of the hunter and crunched him down. Only then did three more hunters crest the hill.
One of them, apparently, recognized the bow on the ground, and notched an arrow in his own bow…Only for his companion to yank it out of his hands. He wasn’t very happy with this action. “It killed Isaiah!”
“And what makes you think it won’t do the same to us if you shoot it?” He glanced at the growl that came from the dragon as it moved to all fours and lowered its head in a blatantly aggressive move. “Besides. Look at the blood on its neck. What do you want to bet your boy shot it and it got pissed?”
The third man chose to speak up. “It looks young, too. What’s to say its mother isn’t around? If we do manage to kill it, we could end up with a bigger problem on our hands.”
Finally, the first hunter sighed and nodded his head. “You’re right.”
Joseph watched the three slowly back away for a moment before he turned and trotted back to where he’d left his kill. Besides a fox who quickly darted away, his kill remained unbothered and he laid back down to pick at his meal. Honestly, he hadn’t intended to eat the young hunter, it’d just…Happened. Interestingly enough, he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t minded the taste. Still, best not to get into the habit. Predators who ate humans tended to get bounties on their heads, something he really wanted to avoid.
After finishing his meal, he dug a shallow pit a short distance away and laid down for a nap. It probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do with a camp of three hunters nearby, but he didn’t think they’d bother him…Then again, he’d thought the same about the young hunter he killed. Still, the three also knew he meant business.
When Joseph woke up, he sleepily stretched and couldn’t help but flop around a bit. He felt comfortable and honestly didn’t feel like getting up just yet. On the other hand, he was getting close to Kovis and felt that he could reach the city around nightfall if he pushed himself. Finally, he climbed to his feet, got a quick few bites from the moose, gathered his things, and started off at a quick trot.
He began doubting the idea of ‘around nightfall’ when he saw he’d slept till mid-afternoon. Perhaps ‘sometime after dark’, would be a better idea. Either way, as long as the weather was decent, he could simply camp outside a final time before going supply hunting in Kovis…This assumed that he’d actually be welcome in the city. The string of bad luck with the different villages and towns caused him to worry about how he’d be received in Kovis. Plus, he’d never been to a large city and really didn’t know what to expect beyond ‘a lot of people’. His father had been to cities in the past and claimed that races of all sorts mingled. He supposed that he’d just have to see when he got there.
The grasslands eventually shifted to something rockier, but it didn’t slow him down. If anything, he enjoyed jumping from rock to rock. Every now and then, he’d attempt to glide, but his ‘flights’ were often short lived and resulted in his back aching. Still, he tried to have fun with it, since it kept his mind off of how all the traveling had started to make him feel sore and all the negative events of the past week or so.
Joseph finally arrived at the outskirts of Kovis long after dark. From his vantage point on top of a rock, the place looked impressive and lit up. Quietly, he weighed the option of approaching the city versus camping a final night. The problem with the first idea was that it was late and he’d have to travel on foot the rest of the way…Plus he was tired. Finally, he dropped the satchel on the rock and laid down. He honestly felt hungry, but didn’t think he’d have any luck hunting unless he went after livestock, something he didn’t want to do. Quietly, he watched the city and wondered what he’d encounter in the morning.