Atalanta shivered in the merciless cold of the mountains that night, wishing that she had an internal

*Anon meaning quickly when used in this instance. Also, it's used as a pun.

combustion machine as the dragon did, and huffed on her hands, imitating the dragon when it was breathing fire. It had flatly refused to do so for her, and she was feeling a bit of apathy towards it.

The dragon opened one eye, and growled, "Trying to make a fire from your breath? Not going to work." This tipped the scales.

"You know, you could give me a fire so I wouldn't freeze! Or is that your purpose? To kill me without expending any effort and still remaining free of all blame? Of course it is, why do I even have to ask! Grow up and grow a spine, you swine!"

"That rhymed," it remarked. Atalanta shrieked, and fled to the outside of the cave, perching on the edge of the ledge precariously, holding onto a flimsy tree. "Don't fall," it called out, for the first time betraying some emotion. It sounded almost concerned for her. She ignored it, and contemplated escaping this way for the first time. The dragon couldn't follow her this way, there were two walls quite close together and it wouldn't be able to fit its wingspan, even folded, through the narrow gap. She grinned quite evilly and started to clamber down the side of the mountain, thanking God again and again for these new clothes. "Wait!" the beast cried. She rolled her eyes and continued climbing – but not before slipping on a treacherous stretch of gravelly rocks.

She shrieked, clinging to a root for dear life, her feet scrabbling for purchase on the smooth rock face. Something appeared over the side of the cliff – not the dragon's face, but another, almost human, face. "Stop! Just hold on!" he told her.

"OF COURSE," she screamed, managing to inject sarcasm within her words at even this most dire time. "No, I'm trying to fall!"

The person launched itself over the edge, and Atalanta screamed, closing her eyes and fearing for a gory death, but was surprised when she felt his arms around her, not dragging her down, but lifting her up. "What-?" she started, but stopped at the sight of leathery wings remarkably like the dragons whaling against the air, pushing the two of them up. The boy was sturdily built, with strawberry blond hair and golden eyes. "Who are you?" she managed.

The boy set her down on firm ground. No, he was a man, a young adult… but definitely not human. "What are you?"

"Nothing. No one. Anything. Anyone," he said in way of answer. Atalanta made a face. "You knon me best as 'that damned dragon.'"

Atalanta swallowed. "Y-you are the dragon?"

"Changeling, actually. Raised by fairies. Spent some time with dragons, though; they were quite fascinating."

Atalanta's jaw dropped. "B-but…" she started, then trailed off. "You…. Why did you abduct me?" she said, finally finding the voice she had been searching for since the first night. She started back, a sudden realization coming over her. "There is no prophecy, is there? Or if there were, you wouldn't know, since you're not a dragon."

The boy… changeling… looked over at her with a sideways glance weighed down with guilt. "Oh my God, there isn't! Why, then?"

He set his jaw and shook his head at her. "None of your business."

Atalanta scoffed. "Um, yes. My business. You abducted me, remember?"

He opened his mouth to retaliate, then closed it, knowing when he was beaten. "Someone made me."

"Who?" Atalanta said, regaining her feet and striding over to him, closing the gap between them and putting her hands on his shoulders beseechingly. "Who?"

He blushed, suddenly and acutely self-conscious of his shirtlessness, and looked down. "A princess from the north. Blonde. Name of Jiani."

Atalanta recoiled from him as though he had passed an electric charge through her body.

"Ah. So you know her," the boy said. She grimaced, and he nodded. "Yeah, she's a bitch."

"Then why are you doing what she says?" Atalanta nearly snarled, backing up to where she was once again standing by the cave mouth. "Is she controlling you?"

"Very nearly, yes," the boy replied. "She's a witch. A powerful one, at that. I'd say she learned from a few of the masters," he rambled on, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

Atalanta stopped, frozen, with the sudden fear that someone… something was watching her. "What did she make you do? And what do you mean by very nearly?" she whispered, gripping the rock face behind her and paling to the color of marble.

"I mean, she's holding something so big, so powerful over my head that I cannot help but to do what she demands, for my own sake as well as a few others'. She's made me a sort of… pet. I don't have much freedom now, but she only told me to take you away and do with you what I will. I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do with you. I'm not going to eat you, don't worry," he said, interjecting into her thoughts. "Changelings don't eat people. Dragons only rarely eat people. You taste acidic, like foul herbal medicine. They only eat people when the time is of the utmost necessity."

Atalanta looked a bit disconcerted. "If they don't eat people, then why are they always abducting princesses?"

"Not always. Only every once and a while, and those are just the greedy dragons. Most dragons only want the gold from the treasury. They just threaten the land enough but never really come down enough to scare the people any more than necessary. If they're lucky, they get some gold for protection against other dragons and to keep them away from people and crops and livestock."

"R-really…"

"Mm-hmm."

"So, what are you going to do to me? Really?"

"I'll let you ponder that. At the moment, I'm hungry." The changeling transformed back into his reptilian state, and coiled his muscles to take off into flight.

"Wait!" Atalanta cried. "Um… you!"

"The name's Kelerak." And with that, he took off into the bright winter sky.