Silence on Berk chapter 4
Trapped in a tree
Waking, my eyelids being pestered by sunlight, I shield them with my hand and crack them open, only for my vision to encompass electric green and gold flinted eyes, dangerously close to my face.
Startled I move, but cry out in pain as I feel a fire in my leg, and moving it only made it hurt worse. My sudden burst of noise startled the dragons and the black scaled one moved back a little bit from me, but not enough for my taste since I didn't know him. I hear growls and chirps from my chest and I look down to see a little red Terror on my chest. It chirps at me, reprimanding me for moving, and looking up at broken branches and down to my horribly painful leg, bent funny underneath me, my memories from earlier come back.
I was attacked by that dragon with green eyes and black scales.
As realization dawns on me, my adrenaline kicks in and no matter how hard that little Terror chirped at me, I continued to move, trying to get away from the black dragon. For some reason the black and green eyed being doesn't move farther away, just continues to watch, perhaps getting enjoyment and a show before he goes in for the kill. Some animals I saw did that to their prey, playing with it and watched it struggle before getting bored and killing it for food. Personally I thought that to be cruel and always went for the least painful death for them, and only when necessary. Oh, how I wish that this black would either finish it or get bored and leave, preferably the latter. I continue to struggle to get away from the black dragon, ignoring the chirping Terror still on my chest.
But as the adrenaline started to fade, the pain in my leg returning, and seeing that I hadn't even moved a foot, reality sunk in too. I was going to die. I had only had a few months of freedom from Berk before my life was going to end at the hands of a dragon.
I look to the Terror on my chest, my eyes devoid of life, accepting the death I was sure to receive, as I move my hand to that spot they like to be scratched, beneath their chins and on the sides by their ears, ignoring the growls from my soon to be killer as I raised my hand towards the little dragon and I scratch the little guy. If I was going to die, then I might as well let the little one have one last good scratching before I depart. I couldn't give him food if I was dead and the least I could do for the Terror staying with me till the end was make him comfortable before I sent him away, before the black scaled dragon was sure to go in for the kill.
The Terror purrs and warbles in bliss under my touch and my grim reaper stopped its growls. I don't really care though. I continue to make the little one happy in what little time I have left before I die. I can't escape, can't move, and it's only a matter of time now when I will die by the dragons claws.
It's too bad that I wouldn't get to spend my remaining time with the silver pup. He may have eaten the most out of the two of us, gotten me into troublesome situations the most, and forced my hand to hunt others in order to feed him, but I didn't really mind. He was my friend and child, someone I had come to care for and desired to protect. I would care for him as a parent would and play with him as if he were my best friend in the world. In reality, he was. The Terrors had become both friends and children to play with and many animals had become my acquaintances. Even if me and the silver pup would have to hunt them one day, I hope that they know that I would always give them fair warning to realize that we were on a hunt so that we did not kill when they weren't aware of that, and that they would still come to me in their time of need. We all may need to eat, but that didn't mean we couldn't be friendly and civilized outside of the hunt.
To think that even animals that are against each other during the hunt were more civilized than the Vikings, who hunted for fun. Those Vikings held grudges against one another and the animals had put those behind themselves, knowing that it was for survival. If only Vikings could have been like that too, I may not have needed to leave. But they weren't and so I left. And now, I was going to die by the claws of what they would fight.
I continued to scratch at the little Terror, now collapsed on my chest, his scales rough and bumpy on my nails, a black object moved in my peripheral vision. Looking towards my left, my hands pause on the little dragon and he too turns to see what had stopped the bliss and growls lightly in annoyance. The black dragon had moved without me noticing, well much, and now was just an arm's span away from my head.
Looking the dragon dead in its green eyes, mine completely dead and accepting of my fate, I try to usher the little Terror of my chest and towards the willow tree. When my hands reach out to the little Terror, the black dragon's eyes tightened, but it didn't make any noises this time. I continue to try to push the Terror off of me, but he just stubbornly clings to me, his little claws scratching my bare skinned top. I whistle a command to it, to go to the willow tree while I look back at the black dragon, looking into my death, but the Terror just gets closer to me and rolls its eyes.
The next thing surprises me. The little Terror stands up, on my chest of course, and looks at the black dragon before scolding it. At least I think it was scolding, it was the same tone of growls, warbles, chirps, and popping noises it had done to me when I had tried to move. Mystified, the black dragon's eyes actually turn towards the dirt, almost as if ashamed by something. The black dragon looks at the Terror, warbles something at it, but the Terror just gives the black dragon a quick and short roar, enraged at whatever the black dragon had said to it before it continues to scold. This continued on for a while longer. Actually it carried on for so long, that I looked at the sky and just realized something.
I had been unconscious like this for a really long time. I went fishing and continued on until the sun should have been setting soon, got carried up shortly afterwards by a black dragon, getting injured in the process, and now it was morning, with said dragon not a few feet away from me. These dragons had been here for about half a day, maybe a day and a half if I had been unconscious longer, though I doubted that, and I had never been hurt. Or maybe more hurt is how I should put it since everything still hurt from that fall. At least nothing new was broken. But still, the black dragon hadn't killed me while I was unconscious. I know that it could have taken the Terror since it was bigger, but it hadn't. Heck, the little Terror was still here, maybe even skipping a meal to keep watch over me. My eyes warmed at the thought as I looked over at the Terror and noticed that both dragons were looking at me.
The little Terror warbled something then to the black dragon and it gave a short, but apologetic growl looking at the Terror before its green and gold flecked eyes rested back on mine own. My breathe catches in my throat as the black dragon came closer and closer to me, now just inches from my face, his large glowing green eyes staring into mine. My fear takes over my body and I find myself that I really can't breathe. As I struggle for breathe a reassuring rumble comes from my chest and I glance down to look at the little Terror, who looks back at me expectantly. It licks my face and purrs as I find my lungs enough to breath. The Terror looks me in the eyes, and then it motions its head towards the black dragon on my left and I tremble slightly. The little Terror purrs again and I gain enough confidence that my trembling stops, but not enough to turn my eyes to the left. The Terror lets out a slight growl and moves up against my face, pushing it to my left. Reluctantly, I turn to face the owner of those glowing green eyes. My heart stops.
In front of me is my supposed killer and yet not. The eyes of the black dragon are nothing like they were previously, instead of tight with suspicion and intent to kill; now they just seemed remorseful. This doesn't make sense. I thought that dragon was supposed to kill me. What was this suppose to mean?
Looking back to the little Terror, he stares at me, then to the dragon, and then points its head towards where my willow is. What did this Terror want me to do? The Terror warbles to the black dragon and I look back at the green eyed dragon as it got closer to me again. My panic rising up, it stops its advances on me as I look back to the little Terror, my breathing shallow and eyes frantic as I look back to it and the black dragon really fast.
The black dragon growls slightly at this and the Terror gives it a sharp look before warbling comfortingly at me, then crawling in really close to the both of us, and giving each of us a lick. The black dragon doesn't mind too much, just giving a roll of its eyes before they both look back to me expectantly. I give a confused look to the Terror and it rolls its eyes before it starts to warble at me.
It looks at me and the black dragon and then it starts to use sounds often used when it would visit my willow tree. The Terror carefully grasps one of my hands, careful not to cut it on its teeth when putting it near the black dragon, then I look into the glowing green eyes of said black dragon, and lastly the Terror warbles the willow tree at me. My eyes expand as realization hits me. The Terror wanted me to go back to the willow tree and that the black dragon would be the one to take me there.
I stare back into the Terror's eyes, panic once again on my face. This dragon had tried to kill me and this Terror wanted me to go with it as if nothing had happened? No, no, no, no, no, no, no. There is no way I'm going anywhere with this potential killer. He could, well, kill me.
The Terror looks at me funny, gives a rumble, and then comes close with its teeth out, giving my nose a nip before giving me a scolding warble, looking back at the black dragon. I follow its gaze and then look back towards the area where my willow tree was.
I know that I was being childish, that I should try to get home if for nothing else, then to apply medical attention to my leg, which was burning at this point, but I was only five, that dragon had tried to kill me, and it wasn't easy to get over that. The pain in my leg though convinced me that, for now though, I should trust these dragons to not get me killed, even if one had already tried. Besides, if I were to die, it would be just the same results I had thought would happen just moment earlier, so there was nothing to lose from the now compared to the very recent past. But there was something to gain if I didn't die, and that would be the ability to fix my leg, forget this ever happened, hope that the black dragon will forever leave me alone, and live happily with the Terrors, animals, and take care of the silver pup.
The dragons must have noticed the change through my eyes, for moments later, the black one had my torso in its gummy mouth, the Terror grabbed my bad leg, and they started to take off towards the willow tree. I never lasted the flight, the pain of my leg and bruised body being moved so suddenly shot so much pain through me that I blacked out…again.
(Line break)
A worried howl breaks into my senses as I wake up, the events from earlier rushing into me as I look around, trying to pin the location of my movers, specifically the black dragon, but its nowhere in sight. I sigh in relief and look around again, taking in my surroundings and realize that I'm back in my shack, back in the willow tree.
Another howl pierces the air and I recognize the sound being from the silver pup, a howl full of worry, a sound that he only made if I had been wounded. I give a quick whistle, hoping to tell the pup, even if I couldn't see him from where I was and not wanting to move, knowing how painful it was from before, that I was okay and to not worry. This seems to calm the pup from wherever he was since the noise stops, though once that noise stops another one alerts me to the presence of a dragon right by the opening to the shack, its claws scraping the wood as it moves forward and warbles at me.
At least this one I'm familiar with. It's a Terrible Terror, and just my luck, its one that helped the black dragon move me today. At least I didn't stay out for a whole day like last time; the sun was still in the sky today, just lower, like around noon or so.
The Terror clambers over to me and warbles affectionately at me, cuddling up in my arms. I scratch at its sensitive scales and it melts in my arms, moving its tail in pleasure. Unfortunately for me, the tail swipes and hits me in my broken leg.
I yelp in pain and drop the dragon in my lap, who then gets close and chirps an apology over and over at me. I smile and scratch it under its chin, saying with my eyes and actions that it was alright. But I knew differently, it wasn't alright.
I'm thinking that what the dragon just did wasn't alright, though it hurt, it was an accident and forgivable. But not being able to move, to get my supplies if I couldn't move to them, and having an injury that stops me from getting food for both me and the silver pup is a problem that could get both of us killed.
The Terror comes close to me and before I know it, its tongue flicks out right between my eyebrows where they were scrunched up together, warbling questionably at me. I sigh and look at my leg pointedly, then point a finger to my stomach and outside to where the pup was, hoping to get the message across. The Terror flies out of the shack, leaving me to look at where it was with a question mark, asking if it realized that I couldn't feed it anymore and so it left. That put a sad look on my face, but it left before long when it returned with a fish in its mouth and landing it right on my lap. I stare at it, my stomach starting to rumble, and the Terror chirps a laugh at it. My face going red I take the fish, thank the Terror with my eyes, and eat it raw. It wasn't the first time I had done that and it certainly wouldn't be the last since I practically lived with dragons as neighbors that when giving a gift, expected me to eat it like them since it was a gift from them and so I had to eat it like them. It wasn't so bad after a little while.
After finishing off the fish, an idea struck me. The Terror looks at me curiously as I start to beam at it and make gestures really fast. Too fast I realize as the Terror stares up at me in confusion. It was perfect though, if I couldn't get my stuff, maybe the dragon could!
I look at the Terror, point to my bag from across the shack, and make a pulling motion with my hands and the little dragon springs to life, pulling the bag to me and I smile at him, reaching my hands out to take the bag and look inside. My smile falters a little though, seeing that I don't have all the things I needed to set my leg straight in hopes it would heal so I could walk again.
Noticing my smile falter, the Terror warbles at me in question, and I point to my bag and then point to the outside of the bag, making it seem like there were items missing. A warble of sadness comes out of the dragon, then one of determination as it looks me straight in the eyes, asking me what I need. A fond smile appears on my face as I see how much this little dragon was willing to help me.
Thinking fast, I look into the bag and see that I have most of my medical supplies (cloth strips, vials, balms, some dried herbs, and a small knife.), but to set my leg straight when it hurt so much to just move, I would need a few more things, like painkillers (black willow root), fresh water (just in case), and long, thick, straight sticks to wrap by my leg after painfully (since it hurt so much just to move) setting it.
I look at the Terror, the determination still on his face, and mine now matching his as I try to explain what I need.
First would be the painkillers, taking those in many doses since they take a while to actually take effect and I needed it to be strong enough I could operate on myself while still conscious. Making eye contact, I point to the tree and then make a flat surface with my arm, having my other arm be the tree with my fingers being the roots below the flat arm. I look at the dragon, and then look hard at the fingers, hoping that the dragon got the message. He didn't. He looked rather confused and I decided to try something out. I warbled at the dragon, using the sounds he made when talking of my home.
The stunned look on the dragons face almost made me burst out laughing if the dragon didn't then start to make lots of sounds. I look at the Terror confused and he seems to get the message, stopping its jumps around the room. I warble again at him, hoping to get it right again. "Blck w-willow tr-ee," and the dragon scoffs a bit before making noises in its own throat, just a bit more clearly than mine and I try again. "Black willow tree?"
This seems to make the Dragon ecstatic since it starts to warble that over and over around the shack since I said it right. I try to gain its attention and give out a short, but loud, whistle. It turns towards me, a little put out I guess since I didn't growl and make more noises like the dragons, but seemed to realize, I hoped, that my vocabulary was limited even if I got most of what the dragons were saying.
I say again while holding up my hand "Black willow tree," and then I make the same motions as earlier, show one hand picking a finger, and then putting it in my mouth, then pointing to my leg. The dragon rushes out and arrives just a little while later with a bushel of my tree's roots in its mouth. Maybe I should get these roots from a different tree if I wanted mine to grow and live longer. That's a problem for another day though.
The Terror drops them in my lap and then holds one in its claw, warbling something at me. I listen closely, and it's the same words we were using earlier, just with a small addition. I must have looked confused since it put its snout to the bark and said "Black willow tree," and then put its snout to the roots and warbled the same thing, but slightly different. I copied the sounds, but must have said something wrong since the Terror swishes its tail at my face and says it again, but slower. Oh, I missed a small pop sound when pronouncing. I try again, "Black willow tree root," and the Terror jumps in joy. Now I see, he was teaching me how to speak the language of the dragons. Well, if the Terror could keep it up, this would probably save my life someday. And what better way to live in a forest with dragons who were your friend than to learn their language, especially if it seemed it could actually be spoken. Though I doubt adults could learn to speak it, too many high pitched sounds and noises you can't make unless you're young when you learn, your ears young enough to pick up on the more subtle sounds. And my throat wasn't used very much with the Viking language, having not used it since I was three, and it was just right for the molding of other tongues. Besides, I doubt I'll ever need Norse again; those Vikings would probably lose the battle with dragons eventually so I don't think I'll have any use talking in the language of a skeleton.
I reach out for a root, break a piece off and plop it into my mouth, letting the bitter taste get into my system and working so I could start soon, but I still needed the other things. I whistle sharply at the Terror, still hopping around the shack, and he turns to me, remembering the original task as I continue to chew on the bitter root. Making a cup out of my hands and bringing them up to drink, the dragon flies out immediately, only to return with water in its mouth that it offers to my hands still in the cup position. It warbles at my hands and I copy the sound, thinking the Terror was saying water. It wasn't the first time I had heard that noise when we were over by the river before, so I got it right the first time. The Terror seemed happy, until I had to let the water go and whistle a bit at him. I warbled "Water," and then made a sphere in the air, pointing into it. The Terror got the message and his mistake and returned with my water skin, only for me to open it and find it empty.
"Water?" I warbled at the Terror, who appeared confused since he brought the right item, only to understand when I opened it up and showed him there was nothing in it as I shook it upside down. The Terror immediately grabbed the skin, disappeared from the shack, and returned slightly damp moments later, holding a still open water skin delicately in its teeth. I reached out and said thank you to the Terror with my eyes, since I didn't know how to directly say that in the dragons' language, though I did have an idea of how to do so from their gift giving, I really didn't want to get it wrong. At least not right now. Maybe if the Terror would be willing to teach me later I could learn more, but for now I just needed one more item before I could start.
"Black willow tree," I warbled to the Terror and then I pointed to a branch, but held up my hands to get the Terror to look at me. I made a bendy finger and shook my head in a negative fashion, and made a straight finger and gave a positive reaction to that. I showed with my hands that it should be around the size of my pointer finger to thumb in width and around as long as my shin, since that was where the break was, my thigh being just fine and below the knee on my shin having the break. I then held up two fingers, saying how many I wanted of this and warbled out, "Black willow tree," again and shook my head while pointing to the trunk of my tree with sad eyes, asking the dragon to get it from a different willow tree and not from my home this time. He understood the first time and flew out of the shack again. I expected it to take a while for the little Terror to get to another willow tree since they were more spread out and even longer to find the branches that I needed, but he came back to me really fast again, holding branches not from a willow tree. In fact, it was oak wood branches in my hand, a perfect length and width for my leg.
The Terror warbles at me, the sound at the end being the same as when talking of the willow trees, and I assume that he's saying oak tree, though I'm sure dragons have a different way of naming things. Wanting to get my pronunciation right, I try to say it right there, "Oak tree," and the Terror smiles a toothy smile at me. I smile back, glad that I was picking up on the sounds correctly and faster with more practice.
I reach out for my bag, specifically the knife in it, the branches having rough bark and a few littler branches growing off of them and I then smooth them out so that I can use them. I whittle them down a layer and they become smooth and rich in color. Not being able to feel too much of my leg, the tree root taking effect, I still reach out to another piece and start my chewing. It could and would hurt so much more when I had to set the bone, having only done this for the occasional animal and dragon wing coming into my little shack, than just laying still as I have been.
I start to place all of my stuff around me and motion the dragon closer. He trots up and sits in my lap as I give my last commands of a sort for the day. I wanted to send the little one away, but knew I may have needed his help. I point to myself and make it look as if I'm sleeping and then I point to the Terror to shake me awake, putting my hand on its claw and shaking it, making it seem like I woke up because of him. The grave look in my eyes almost coerces the little Terror to agree and I give a sympathetic and grateful smile to the little one. He could have left at anytime and he stayed to help me. I knew this was going to hurt, that I was probably going to scream in pain and possibly fall unconscious, but I couldn't have that happen and a pain in my chest starts up thinking of how this poor Terror was willing to hear them in order for me to finish my medical attention on myself and to wake me up when I start to fall asleep. I thank the Terror again with my eyes, him returning a look of devotion and determinism to me, as I steel my nerves and get ready to operate.
I lean over to my leg, having myself still clothed in what I was wearing fishing being only my leather shorts and so my shin is easy to see. Grabbing another piece of root and chewing on it, I return my eyes to my leg to see how bad the damage was and it appears that I was lucky in some way.
The bone appeared to have broken cleanly, there being only one part out of place and when I ran my fingers over the bone, there was only one place it had snapped. I was really, really lucky. It appeared to be one clean break, without a lot of muscle damage and all I had to do was put it in place and then wrap it tightly to the two sticks. This wound was much easier to take care of than the others that I heal on the animals that come to my shack injured. But those guys didn't have to operate on themselves and were normally knocked out when I went to work. I didn't have that luxury.
A small rumbling sound to my right reassures me that I wouldn't fall under the blankets of sleep, reassuring me, and I look back to my leg, preparing to move the bones back into position. Reaching forward with my hands, I curl one on the bottom part of my shin and one at the top, ironing out my will, and I push the two pieces together, snapping them back into place.
Tears sting my eyes as pain still jolts up my spine, but it is diluted down due to the roots, glad that I took so many doses of them now as I know dragon or no dragon; I would have fainted from such agonizing pain. I feel around on my leg where the two bones meet and now here comes the hard part. I had to adjust the bones until they met flush against each other so that they could grow back together. This was always the most painful part, the feel of bones rubbing against each other that I myself hadn't experienced, but based off of the reactions of the animals that were awake after the first push, this part always sent them into the black depths of the unconscious world.
I look sharply at the dragon, both of us knowing what was coming next, and I feel the ridge between the bones where one was higher than the other and twisted to the side and I start to adjust. My vision blurs at the first movement, shivers running down my spine as if the bone were a chalk board with nails running through it, straight up my spine as a bone chilling scream echoes from my throat. I hear the silver pup howling and whimpering and when the pain recedes I whistle back to him to calm him down and then one of warning, since that probably wouldn't be the last time I screamed and this was probably the only time I would be able to answer the pup.
As I continue to move the bones, having the pieces grind against each other, my vision continues to blur, noises of pain scraping out of my throat, and blackness seeping into the edges, until a sharp feeling on my side chases them away. The Terror had bitten my right side, not my arms or hands or even my other leg, but right on the ridge where the gap between back and stomach were to meet, it both tickled and hurt, bringing me back to consciousness. I smile at the Terror, my eyes grim as that wouldn't be the last time I would have to be bitten and the Terror returning me look for look, knowing he would have to bite again while anything nearby would hear the screams.
(Line break)
I put all my efforts now into the feel of my bones, making sure that they are aligned, having to be bitten at least 5 times. Or was it 8 times? I lost count, but eventually, the bones were in place, now only needing to be wrapped up with cloth and my sticks to keep it in place. I reach over for the cloth strips, making one layer first around my leg, thinking of how the sticks would feel against bare skin for long periods of time and not liking the results, deciding to give myself a pre-wrap first. After covering my whole left leg below the knee, I grab the two sticks, positioning them on either side of the bone above the muscles in my calf. Putting them in place with one hand, I grab the longer strips of cloth and wrap just to the point that blood could flow, but nothing else would get through those streams, leaving my leg with the blood but no room to wiggle or move out of place. Good too, because that really hurt, mentally cursing the dragon that made me like this to begin with.
Mental note: learn dragon language fast to hopefully avoid situations like this from ever happening again.
Seeing that my work was done, I put away the other things from my bag that I didn't need away and turn my torso to the right to see the Terror passed out next to me. Looking outside, the sun setting, we must have been at this for hours.
I reach out my hand to pet the little one, giving out a whistle to the silver pup to tell him I was alright. Hearing a soft howl in return, I smile into the ever coming darkness around me while I sigh.
Looking at my leg, it wasn't likely that I would be able to move for quite a while. But at least it wasn't too bad of an injury, but I probably wouldn't be able to move at all for a few days.
A dull throb from my leg alerts me that the root was wearing off, not having taken any for a while being too focused on staying conscious and placing the bones right, as I reach into the bag for the extras from earlier. I take a piece and chew it, thankful that it was summer since I couldn't move to get my warmer clothes and not wanting to wake the Terror at my side to get them.
The pain fading and my consciousness going along with it, I placed the Terror on my lap, circled it with my arms, and got us both comfortable as I drifted off to sleep, my eyes playing tricks on my as I go, making a shadow move in the form of a dragon towards me as I drift off to sleep. Silly eyes, shadows don't move…and the last of my consciousness fades into the night.