Veralla was surrounded by a world of wonder.
They traveled with the strange rolling machine the others had called an 'all-terrain vehicle'. The machine tore through the ice and snow, large wheels churning swathes of frozen beauty and auxiliary thrusters thrumming with basso voices like growling dragons. During her stay inside this beast of metal and energy, she watched the passing landscape in awe, hissing with glee and hrrr-ing with delight as she drank in the sights laid before her. Vast, flat plains stretched for miles, disappearing in the distance. Shining glaciers towered along the way, silent titans standing guard. Hulking hills of snow bulged from the ground, crests billowing in the wind. Far away, gleaming peaks of pure white loomed over everything, their sharp edges piercing the endless sky. Massive clouds fought their battles in the heavens. Lightning rumbled amid those clashes, then to be chased away by the sacred rays of the watchful suns, or the glittering congregations of farward stars.
And on the horizon, a constant presence no matter the landscape: a great, blazing column of pure energy, tinged with purple shades. Veralla looked every now and then at the energy pillar in awe, as she did with everything else, yet each time she did so she felt a strange anxiousness overcoming her.
"Only effing frozen wasteland around," Kiana groaned. "And that freaking mega-beam." She eyed the energy pillar straight ahead.
"Hey, nothing a good beer can't handle," Zuckeroff said. "If only I had one," he added wistfully.
They traveled for many days across the ever-changing arctic wilderness. At night they sheltered beside the ATV, resting and talking. Veralla used the time to frolic in the snow, rolling and experimenting with this amazing white powder which was made of water. Gradually her body stopped reacting to the cold, though she still sensed its presence as a prickling mantle along her scales. As she felt hunger rising inside her, she abandoned her game of comparing snowflakes and ice shards, and came back to the camp to eat, listening to the others talk. She curiously noted their words, trying to understand what they meant, and asked questions when she couldn't.
"What is a 'beer'?" she asked Zuckeroff.
"Oh, it's the drink of heaven," he replied cheerfully. "Light enough to keep you going and, uh, strong enough to free your mooring, hehe! And the taste is fantastic! Hey Boss, are you taking first watch again?"
She learned much about the other people during those days. They called themselves humans. They obviously were not dragons, though they did many things she did, like talking and eating and sleeping. They could not fly, yet neither could she, no matter how hard she tried to flap her wings. They had no tails, true, yet she could not find much use for hers except playing with it. However, she learned that she saw and heard more things than humans did, which made her wonder if that was the reason they did not like to play much. Yet, despite the similarities, Veralla was aware she was quite different. She looked at herself in secret, examining her clawed feet, peering in icy reflections at her horns and headcrests, tracing the outline of her snout, and wondering at the pair of opposable thumbs on each forepaw. Her distinctness set her apart from the others, and she felt lonely.
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"Kiana, why are my wings so small?"
"Uh... I have no idea. Don't worry; they should grow in time."
Veralla often became hungry. Thankfully, there was much food, and she ate any time she wanted. There were the same strange, tasteless blocks of stuff she had eaten before, yet now they were put in some device, gaining all kinds of different tastes. She ate this altered food with gusto, enjoying it greatly, and she found she loved meat flavor the most.
"Zuckeroff, for fuck's sake, stop making the dinner beer-flavored!"
"Aw, come on, Ki! I only wanted to pretend I was having a pint!"
The new humans were friendly. Zuckeroff was always loud and cheerful. He was surprised, shocked even, when Veralla pronounced his first name without difficulty, and said even he couldn't get it right at all times, and that was why everybody called him Zuckeroff. Like the other humans, he had a mass of odd strands on his head called 'hair', though in his case there was also some on his face, this different combination defined as 'beard'. He was constantly talking or making comments about things, or telling funny stories. Veralla conversed with him easily, yet in time she became bored as he started repeating jokes, and he only looked at her blankly when she asked for new ones.
Kiana was very kind. When she wasn't driving the ATV, she gave Veralla food or petted her on the head. She was the one who most often looked when Veralla pointed out something for the others to see, and she used many strange words the others didn't. Veralla asked her why she and Zuckeroff had two names, and Kiana replied it was normal for humans to have multiple names, though she insisted to be called only by her first name, and was very firm about that. She only shook her head when Veralla asked her why.
And so Veralla marveled at the open sky and the lands of snow, bantered happily with Zuckeroff and Kiana, ate heartily, and learned about the world as her knowledge expanded with each day.
Yet she always kept close to Airo.
She remembered her first moments out of the shell, when she had met his striking gaze, those grey eyes full of sadness and grief. She remembered how her soul, soaring happily with the song of life, had wavered when she had plunged into that dark abyss. He had lashed out at her, the sadness in him flaring from a black ember into a white-hot force of hate, making her tremble in fear.
Yet he had carried her on his back, and had given her a name, making the essence of her soul complete. For that she was thankful to him, and when he had bidden her away, she had respected his wish; perhaps he wanted to protect her from his sadness, wanted to prevent infecting her with this unfathomable misery. But at his departure she had felt so very lonely, abandoned and alone in the harsh cold, hunger gnawing at her belly. So she had followed him, helping him and pleading him to take her, because she wanted to live and to not be alone.
Now, no longer gripped by either hunger or cold, she took him in once more. His strong, willful features were often locked into a scowl, or twisted with sorrow from the sadness fused to his core. He kept to himself, throwing his sadness at the others in the form of gruff orders or demands for information. Yet neither Zuckeroff nor Kiana seemed affected by the outbursts of his affliction, and Veralla realized it was only his own. This encouraged her and sparked her interest, and without being able to explain why, she felt the desire to understand more about Airo's sadness and what had created it.
He still refused to talk to her, still rebuffed her in anger underlined by subtle anguish when she approached. Still she kept close, asking him questions about himself and the world, wanting to learn more. He never answered.
Yet Veralla did not give up, certain in her memory she had seen something more, something greater inside Airo, when their eyes had met for that first time under the cold heavens of Terra Para.