Mip woke up on his hammock feeling very well rested. The purring ball resting on his belly beneath his hands and vest was now radiating plenty of her own warmth. While he did not remember allowing his back to press onto the hammock, nor did he recall rotating into a lateral position, he supposed it was probably good that he got at least some shuteye.
They had awakened together. Dart's new position was obviously a direct result of him reclining into the hammock. Based on how warm she felt, she was probably doing a lot better.
She started to stretch and knead her paws a little bit against his belly.
That got him up quickly.
"Gah, stop that!" he giggled, pulling the fledgling away from his body. She squeaked.
Mip was very, very ticklish.
His elbows still locked, with a heaving grunt, he tensed up, tossed his legs off the side of the hammock, and sat up. Dart quickly settled into a tiny ball on his lap and started purring like a large cat.
There, sitting on the edge of his hammock, just like every morning, was when his memory decided to assault him again.
And just like that, he was crying.
His "work" had saved a dragon's life that night, and nothing could have made him happier.
Nothing, of course, except being able to erase the past, for Mip had made several abhorrent, wretched, grave errors, and every breath that he breathed made him feel all the more guilty of the mistakes that he had made. He made mistakes for which he would never—could never—forgive himself, let alone expect to be forgiven.
Mip did not believe in second chances.
Forced into the lucrative dragon trade to provide for his family, Mip had spent several years of his life tearing dragon families apart, destroying peace in the dragon world, and having a general disrespect for the majestic beasts. Having been the unofficial fifth-in-command under Eret, son of Eret, he had been the smallest member of his crew and had no tattoo on his stubbled chin.
Mip was small. It sufficed to say that the only big things about him were his heart and the burdens of his past.
Mip swore he would never bring his prior years of dragon trapping up to anyone. The guilt and the shame were so relentlessly overwhelming that he would still cry every time he thought about it, hence why he was crying now.
He had justified his actions because his family needed the money. Dragon scales, claws, and teeth could bring in a fortune. But what wretched souls would think that the end would justify such horrible means? How could he justify tearing dragon families apart just so he could keep his own family together? In truth, he finally understood the flaws in his logic.
Too little, too late. He could never undo the damage he had done. When he lost his job and became a fisherman, it only felt like justice was catching up to him. Of course, losing his job had several consequences, and as an indirect result, his entire family was dead now.
He refused to think about it.
The little ball on his lap stirred as if detecting the darkness in his thoughts.
And then, she did something remarkable.
She tensed up, popped her spine, and poked her little paws into his thighs to stand up on his lap. She turned around and craned her neck back to look up at him with large pupils, mirroring his expression.
That alone would have surprised him, but it was when she stood up on her hind paws and began to wrap herself back around him...that he froze.
The fledgling wriggled two paws under his armpits until her chest was thoroughly snuggled against his breastbone. Then, she enveloped his collar with the crook of her neck, squeezed his ribcage tightly, and pressed into the top of his thigh with her tail so that she could raise her hind paws to wrap around his midsection.
Now, using all four paws, she shifted side-to-side and cuddled her entire body closer, and closer, and closer, until finally, it conformed perfectly with his—that is, until her the scales of her underside were cemented solidly against his torso, all the way from the chin that hugged his collar to the tail that coiled around his thigh.
He was overwhelmed to find just how unbelievably warm her embrace felt compared to yesterday. Her heartbeat was so powerful that he could feel it through his chest—even above her purring. For such a small creature, the heartbeat was slow, as was her breathing. Her tiny nostrils would cause the air to produce a high-pitched but soft, endearing puff every time she sighed into his hair, which would then tickle his scalp.
She obviously did not hug him because she was cold. Rather, she must have adopted that position for the sole purpose of giving him the warmest, most heartfelt possible embrace of sympathy and forgiveness.
He blinked, and tears fell from each eye, running down his chin and falling onto the dragon below him.
It was then that he realized he had not even begun to return the hug the dragon was giving him.
"W-wow," he breathed, sniffling, "you are just full of surprises, aren't you?"
In response, the dragon purred and began gliding her incredibly soft and tiny side frills up and down his neck.
Finally overcoming his stupor, he protectively wrapped his arms around the creature. One hand brushed the spines of her back, and the other hand caressed the scales of her head, allowing her spines to dig into the crease of his elbow. Hugging her felt almost like hugging a breathing, dragon-shaped rubber hot water bottle—warm, dense, and soft, with a slight "give" when squeezed. Her purring crescendoed and began to resonate in his abdomen as he leaned his head over to hers and nuzzled her warm, scaly ear with his cheek.
He started singing the lullaby that he would sing to his children before they were killed.
"In the Darkness of the Night..."
The moment he sang the words, Dart's tail went completely limp and uncoiled from his thigh, causing her tail fin to droop down and brush his calf. He could tell how much she loved to hear him sing, and as far as he was concerned, it was the least he could do to remind himself that everything was alright now—that he had a family again.
It was not enough.
Oh, how he missed his daughter! His sons! His wife! Why were they taken, but not him?
The melody started drifting off-key. Then, it began to quiver and quake, until eventually, it broke down completely. He held onto Dart like she was the only thing keeping him alive, and she held on in kind, purring loudly. How could he not have seen how intelligent, how beautiful, how majestic these creatures truly were? How could he have been so blind? Years of ruthless trapping—and for what?
He tried desperately not to allow his tears to fall on her back, but he failed. At first, she twitched a little bit when they landed on her, but otherwise, she kept purring. They would roll down along her spines until they dripped onto the floor. Dart did not seem to mind.
And when he felt strange taps on his back, he did not mind either.
In that moment, it became completely clear to him. He was not just there for her, but she was also there for him.
They were there for each other, and he would have wanted it no other way.
The dragon's embrace told him one thing. Even if the fledgling did not know what he had done, the message was clear.
"I love you, and I forgive you."
If only he could forgive himself.
Nonetheless, deep inside, he felt like a weight had been lifted off him.
At the same time, however, a new, lighter weight had been put on him: responsibility.
It meant that he could never let her be in danger again—not if he could help it.