Hours later, long after Jack had left, Valenthoraxis continued languishing in the clearing, the will to move having vacated her body. Even now, she could feel the power of her magic draining. And so she lay there, eyes closed, lost in the pain of her missing eggs and fading magic.
Something strolled out of the woods on the opposite side of the glade, tickling the dragon’s senses. Cracking one eye open, she inspected the new arrival.
Given the amount of blood strewn around the clearing, she expected a scavenger. Perhaps she was correct—it was a bird, after all—but its appearance was unusual. Roughly half the height of a man, it was of a type she had first seen mere days ago. Which was already saying something. Valenthoraxis counted her life in centuries like a human counted years, and had long ago come to the conclusion that she had seen all there was to see. Being proven wrong was the only bright spot since her eggs were stolen.
“And what are you, little one?” she rumbled. “Where does your kind come from?”
Much to her surprise, the bird didn’t run away. Instead, it sniffed at her, cocking its head curiously.
Valenthoraxis chuckled at the reaction, realizing that this wasn’t a different bird at all—it was the same one that had shown up in her lair. Odd that it should appear around humans twice without being their pet. Not to mention its strange reaction to being in a dragon’s presence.
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Very unusual.
She bared her teeth in a serpentine smile. “I commend you on your confidence, little one, misplaced as it may be. For, you see, you now have me wondering what your brand of confidence tastes like.”
The dragon inhaled deeply through her nose, causing the bird’s feathers to flap in the wind.
She paused.
Valenthoraxis’ sniff had only been out of curiosity, but the scent caused her to hesitate before taking the animal between her jaws.
The dragon’s horns shifted minutely in an expression of interest that would have been lost on most other species. “This really is a first. How ever did you come to be?”
The bird didn’t answer, instead walking to the burnt skeleton of the feaster bunny and pecking at it idly, as though investigating the remains. When the ashes and cracked bone provided no answers, she walked straight up to the dragon and studied her with the same curious detachment that Valenthoraxis had shown the bird only moments before.
The wind shifted and the bird suddenly jumped, her head snapping to the other side of the clearing. She ran to the spot where Valenthoraxis had hit Jack with her tail and began pecking the ground vigourously before spinning to stare at the dragon.
Valenthoraxis grinned. Now she understood the bird’s motivations. Tilting her head towards the side of the glade, she indicated where Jack had exited not long ago. The bird followed the gesture and bounded to the spot indicated, resuming her pecking routine. Her head popped up almost immediately and she sprinted into the woods, using the same gap Jack had slipped through not long before.
Valenthoraxis, the Great Dragon of Bookspine, grinned.
“I do so love a mystery.”