Silas woke up on the porch with a start, one hand awkwardly going to his hip as his eyes snapped open.

There didn't appear to be any immediate danger, so he relaxed once again, leaning back into the rocking chair with a sigh and closing his eyes. Several moments later, he opened his eyes abruptly, the events of the previous day coming to bear.

Rising from the chair with an easy groan, he opened the solid wooden door and walked in, spotting a snoozing crimson ball of scales curled up on the couch, slowly rising and falling as it breathed easily. Silas watched the dragon for a moment, his forehead wrinkled as he thought.

Dragons were not exactly a common species. As a matter of fact, it would be a stretch to say that they were even rare - borderline unique would be closer to the mark. Silas had seen a few dragons in his time, although they'd been quite a bit larger and far fiercer. Granted, he hadn't exactly been paying attention to what they looked like at the time and had been a bit more concerned with whether or not he was about to die, but this one looked to be a fairly healthy member of the species. Considering that it didn't have any wings, he could potentially be flightless, but it could simply be that he was too young to have grown them yet.

Either way, Silas was concerned about the safety of his scaled guest. To be exact, he wasn't sure whether or not it would be safe for the dragon to be out and about at the homestead. If any of the people he'd seen at the town a few dozen miles away encountered the reptile they'd be likely to attack him on sight, and he needed to make sure that didn't happen.

Sitting down and folding his legs, Silas put a hand on the dragon. It tensed underneath his palm, but stayed asleep, its breath only quickening infinitesimally. He needed to find a way for the people back at Troutbeck to not flip out when they found out he and Jonas were hosting a potentially catastrophic guest. Not that Silas himself believed that anything of the like would actually happen - the dragon had recognized the reference to Earth and had proceeded to behave civilly while inside their house. He knew that the reptile was telling the truth, but without something to back it up, he was going to have trouble with the villagers.

The door opened, and both Silas and the dragon glanced up at the disturbance. Jonas walked in with an easy gait, giving them a smirk as he noticed Silas' hand on the dragon's spiky spine. The dragon swiveled his long neck to look at Silas' hand and paused, staring intently at it.

Silas shrugged, lifting his hand, and the dragon raised its yellow eyes up at him with an even stare. Jonas butted in with that same smirk pasted on his face. "Oh no, don't let me break up the romance."

As his face screwed up in disgust, Silas rose to his feet. "Is your mind made of crap? You know as well as I do that if I'm gonna settle down it's gonna be with a woman."

Jonas' smile widened. He'd exploited this particular weakness more than a few times. "Oh, please. What woman would want to spend the rest of her life with your ugly mug starin' her in the face every morning?"

Silas broke into a surprisingly nimble sprint around the couch, heading straight for Jonas. The slightly younger man dodged, but seeing as neither of them were really trying, the short-lived chase only lasted a few seconds. Silas irritably punched him in the shoulder and left his final comment. "I might be ugly, but at least I got the best beard this side of Fond du Lac! Not even the dragon wants to check out yer babyface!"

They both switched their attention to the dragon, who abruptly looked away. Silas laughed triumphantly, pointing at the dragon with a crooked finger. "Haha, see? He agrees with me!"

Jonas groaned loudly, shaking his head and vaulting over the couch to sprawl next to the dragon. "So, what's the plan? What're we doin' about this lil' guy here?" He reached a hand out carefully, and the dragon squinted at it distrustfully. Jonas stared at him for a moment, then said bluntly, "I was gonna scratch ya behind the ears unless you've got sumthin' against that."

The dragon thought it over for a moment and then laid down with his head near Jonas' calf. The aging man casually placed his hand just behind the short, spiraling horns protruding from the back of the dragon's head, rubbing and kneading easily. It was only a few moments before the dragon was splayed out on the couch, his claws curling and uncurling in obvious pleasure.

Silas smirked at him. "And you accused me of romance."

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Jonas shrugged. "Eh, I'd call it a good friendly relationship. I scratch his back, he scratches mine." To the dragon, he added, "Don't go scratchin' my back, dragon. I'm might be tougher 'n nails but I'm in no mood to walk around lookin' like I've been horse-whipped."

Silas chuckled deeply, an expression of concern following shortly. "So, what's 'is name?"

They both looked up at him, and Silas added, "I mean, we can't just go callin' you 'the dragon' for the rest of yer stay here. It might be a while before it's safe for you ta leave, and I'm not one to call Jonas a human - he's got a name and that's what I call him by."

The dragon thought it over for a moment, a slight puff of gray smoke coming from his nose, and then growled curiously. Jumping to the ground, it attempted a rough bark, and then hissed furiously. Jonas raised his hands placatingly. "Hey now, calm down. Can ya write?"

Pausing mid-rant, the dragon stared up at him and then nodded thoughtfully. Silas threw his hands in the air. "Well, that's that. I'll be right back - we don't have any writing materials on hand, but I'm thinkin' those claws'll be plenty effective on a good-sized plank."

He headed to the back of the house through the kitchen, opening a back door leading to the small lean-to attached to the house. Underneath it was a small pile of discarded planks, the result of one of Jonas' many unfinished projects. Selecting one of the bigger pieces, Silas examined it briefly and headed back inside.

Going over to the dragon, he placed the board on the ground and sat down. "Well, there's yer board. Time to get some introductions underway."

Both of the men patiently waited as the dragon readily got to work, his sharp claws scratching the dense wood deeply. After a few moments of painstakingly careful movements, the dragon stood aside, and they both leaned forward to look at the board.

The writing was borderline illegible, but that was to be expected. Writing with claws attached to oneself was probably quite a bit more difficult than writing with an implement designed to do so. At any rate, the shaky words etched into the plank read a simple word.

Silas raised an eyebrow as he read it. "Yer name is Samwise? Wot kinda name is that from, England?"

The dragon was clearly stumped, unable to answer the question accurately. He opted to simply shake his head and reached for the board again. Slowly, carefully, he began to scratch four numbers into the top corner of the board, and Jonas and Silas waited once again.

He finished shortly, and they both leaned forward. Silas' eyebrows jumped. "Twenty-twenty? You don't mean to tell me that's the year on Earth that yer from, do ya?"

Samwise nodded excitedly, and Jonas whistled lowly. "Good grief. I always knew time flies, but I don't think that's quite what's happening here."

Silas nodded slowly, staring hard at the dragon. Staring at Samwise. "Mate, do ye know what year we're from?"

Samwise tilted his head curiously, and Silas continued. "When we came here, the year was eighteen-ninety-five. I can only imagine the changes that've happened since then."

Jonas nodded thoughtfully. "Hey, can I just call ya Sam? Samwise don't exactly roll off the tongue fer me."

The dragon, to be known as Sam, conceded the point with a mild nod, clearly processing the information. Pouncing back to the board, he tried to write some more, but there wasn't enough space for him to do so anymore, and he sat back on his haunches with a precise expression of annoyance.

Silas stood up, easing his way out of the chair. "Sorry, bud, but we're gonna need that wood for other things. We can prolly head over ta Troutbeck and getcha some tools fer writin', but until then we're just gonna hafta make do with nods and shakes, all right?"

Sam was clearly disappointed but nodded regardless, and Jonas headed up the stairs. Silas frowned at him. "Where are you off to?"

Jonas grinned at him. "He ain't gonna take himself to Troutbeck, and I don't see a reason why we should go about waiting. It's not as though sumthin's gonna happen on its own."

Silas raised an eyebrow. "That's not always a bad thing, ya know."

With an experienced shrug, Jonas kept going up the stairs, calling back, "For you, mebbe. Me, I'm bored half ta death. And be honest, yer lookin' forward to seein' Kaide, ya heartbreaker."

A slight flush spread up through Silas' face, and Sam stared up at him expectantly. Cupping his hands around his mouth, Silas yelled up at Jonas' heels, "That ain't fair and you know it, ya two-bit manipulating mule!"

His reply came without any hesitation. "If I'm a mule, you're the donkey, and I ain't talkin' about breeds!"

Silas glanced down at Sam, who was looking somewhat anxious and commented quietly, "He's a good man, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I tell 'im that to his face. And if he asks ya, you tell 'im I said his rump and his face could be twins, all right?"

Sam blinked uncertainly, but gave a slight growl of confusion. Silas patted him on the head, the dragon's tufted ears flattening as he did. "If there's anything ya need to grab, I'd go get it now. Troutbeck's quite a few miles away and Sal ain't as strong as she used to be, so it's gonna be a bit of a ride."

Nodding repeatedly, Sam glanced around blankly, and then released a short, hoarse bark. Silas snorted loudly. "Heh, I guess ya don't have much to call yer own. We can fix that later, but fer now we gotta find some way to keep ya hidden without sending the whole village into a panic. Me 'n Jonas can hold off the whole town if we gotta, but I'd rather not spill any blood that doesn't need ta be."

Sam agreed with a worried huff of smoke, putting his head on his claws. Silas scratched behind his horns briefly, and then headed outside.

There were some precautions he wanted to take before they went to Troutbeck. Nothing fancy, of course... but he made sure that his gun was clean.