Greetings everyone.
Welcome to Seeker, a tale of sorrow, mischief, adventure, hope, despair, hatred… and love. With a bit of fun thrown in now and again.
Something I need to make mention of before you delve into the chapter. For starters, this story will be rated M for a reason. There will be blood and crude language. If that offends you, I apologize. I'm a lowly Grunt after all, and about the only things we know are cursing and bleeding. This chapter is going to be toned down slightly in descriptions, but just bear that in mind as the story progresses.
(My Beta tells me that I talk too much in AN's, so I sincerely apologize for that. It's rather difficult to stop myself from flowing from one topic to another, and the result is... well, exactly what just happened. Damn.)
That said, welcome to Seeker! Sit back, kick off your boots, relax and enjoy! Let me know your thoughts, good and bad. I'll see you at the closing AN.
Disclaimer: I do not own How to Train Your Dragon or any of their characters portrayed in this story. I do, however, own this story and the OC's that have been included in it.
Leitand (Prologue)
Chapter 1
There was nothing. No light, no sound, no sensation… no pain. I thought there would be pain, it spoke, though nothing was heard. Only then did it notice that it had no body. It simply was, and yet was not. It thought it should feel sad about that, but it felt nothing. It was nothing.
And yet…
It felt. It felt a sudden desire to be, a desire to have sensation, to have touch, taste, sight, sound… and pain. It wanted to live. No, it needed to live. Nothing would not suffice, it needed to be. The drive it felt to simply exist outweighed anything it knew or experienced during its timeless existence.
So be it.
And so it was. He was.
(-)
The first thing he was aware of, was that of the gentle breeze upon his back. A happy smile found its way onto his face, and he let out a satisfied groan. It felt good to feel the wind. Sensation means living, after all. For a moment, that was all he did; lay there and feel the wind on his back. Much preferable to his last location, even if the breeze tugged at his body weirdly.
Wait, he thought, slowly opening his eyes. Where was my last location? Casting his mind back, he tried to decipher his memories. However, he eventually gave up when he found that he couldn't. It felt as though he was right on the cusp of remembering, but something was preventing him. He let out an irritated growl.
His eyes widened, and he leapt to his feet. Did I just growl? he asked himself. That was new. Humans didn't growl, or at least not like that. He reached a hand towards his throat, before promptly falling on his face. For a time, he didn't move, his mind trying to process what had just happened. Slowly, he stood up again, now realizing the pressure of the ground beneath him was not limited to just his feet. He could feel it under his hands as well.
Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes and pointed his head towards the ground right at his feet. Slowly, he raised his eyelids to look, raising them faster as soon as his mind processed what he was seeing. He had paws. Not hands, paws. Experimentally, he tried to move his right index finger. Sure enough, the corresponding digit moved on his right front paw. Well, that proves its mine.
He studied his paws closely, noticing them to be covered in dark, smooth scales. They certainly didn't have the same range of motion as his hands, but they did boast a set of nice and pointy claws. Hmm.
Making sure to properly balance himself on three limbs, he raised his right paw again and tentatively placed his index claw against his shoulder, which he saw to also be covered in scales. He poked himself, eye's widening as he realized he felt it clearly, and knew it to be sharp, but it did not hurt. He poked himself again, a little harder this time. Then a third time. On his fourth attempt, he decided to see how fast he could move his paw. Scarcely a second later, he let out a yowl of pain and surprise.
"Okay, that was stupid of me," he groaned, licking his bleeding shoulder reflexively. Soon after, the pain began to fade. He paused his actions mid lick, blinking confusedly. The bleeding had stopped, though there was still a very clear mark on his shoulder where the wound was. Why was I licking my shoulder?
A new thought occurred to him as he moved his tongue back into his mouth. It really doesn't even hurt! Eager to test his new theory, he quickly drew his claws down his shoulder, below the first mark. A screech escaped him once more, and he quickly began to lick his new wounds, sighing as the pain faded, though it still throbbed at him angrily. He didn't blame it.
"That's enough of that line of experimentation," he muttered, shaking his head. Turning his head, he cast his gaze down the rest of his body. He paused as he caught sight of two black wings jutting awkwardly from his back. "Whoa."
Suddenly he realized why the breeze was tugging at him so weirdly. It was blowing against completely new limbs! Even now he could feel the air around them, nice and cool against the leathery skin. Following that feeling towards his back, he felt new muscles where the wings connected to the rest of his body. Curious, he flexed them, watching how both of his wings raised higher into the air. Testing a similar set of muscles on his sides, just below the base of the wings, he watched as his wings came down.
He spent the next few minutes familiarizing himself with his newfound extremities, before attempting to bring them in towards his body. A smile grew on his face once more as his wings neatly tucked themselves against his body. That was when he saw his tail, and the fins on it, and was lost in discovery once again. Soon though, he felt a familiar pain deep inside of him, which he recognized to be hunger. For the first time since his waking up, he took in his surroundings.
He stood in a small clearing, around which a forest extended for as far as he could see, which admittedly wasn't very far. There were too many trees in the way, and his view was very low to the ground. The sky above him was clear and blue, with a few clouds lazing around in it. Turning his attention back towards the forest, a new thought occurred to him. He carefully made his way towards the closest tree, frowning as he approached it.
Either the tree was incredibly large, or he was very small. Great, I'm no longer human and I'm also a midget. A midget… reptile? Winged snake? Wait, I have legs, can't be a snake. That wouldn't be nearly as cool. What sort of reptile has wings?!
The answer came to him shortly, and he slammed his head into the tree in response to his own stupidity. I'm a fucking dragon! he thought through his sudden headache. He was filled with excitement at the idea and shook his head to try and ease it. It didn't work, but he was too excited to pay it any mind. Soon, he was bounding through the clearing, unable to help himself.
I'm a dragon! I'm a midget dra-… damnit.
"Well," he sighed, coming to a stop. "Nothing I can do about my size. Besides, wings make up for it."
His stomach let its plight be known once more, and he reflexively clutched at it. I need to do something about that, he thought. He cast his gaze about once more, noticing that there seemed to be a lot more color to the world that last he knew it. Then again, I was colorblind.
That made him pause. How do I know that, yet I don't know my name? He decided against wasting time thinking on the subject, concentrating on the matter at hand. Knowing he would have to hunt for his food, he looked around once more, breathing deeply. His eyes widened once more, before he closed them, concentrating on what he could hear and smell.
It was a lot more than he had ever thought possible. He could smell so many things, and his brain automatically applied the scents to certain objects he recognized. He could smell the trees, the grass, the pile of fish, the dirt and, strangely, what smelt like water. Water has a scent?
He blinked open his eyes once more and whipped his body around to stare at something he had smelled. There, piled at the edge of the clearing, was fish! Food! He eagerly bounded towards it, surprised at how natural the movement came to him. As he approached, his eagerness slowly abated. How did he eat it? Turning his attention to his mouth, he was surprised to find that he had no teeth. I'm a gummy, midget dragon. The thought definitely put a damper on things. His new body must be incredibly old.
Sensing some new muscles in his gums, he curiously tensed them. He let out another yowl of pain and laid down, jamming a paw in his mouth to clutch his now bleeding tongue. Well, he thought dumbly. I do, in fact, have teeth. Very sharp teeth.
He hadn't been aware that his tongue had been sticking out of his mouth in concentration, and when his teeth appeared from within his gums… I'm lucky I didn't just bite my tongue off.
The pain eventually went away, and he removed his paw from his mouth with a soft sigh. Well, he had teeth. But they didn't seem like they would be good for chewing anything. If anything, they would help him break his food into manageable mouthfuls. Snakes swallow their prey whole… so maybe dragons do as well? It certainly made sense.
Tentatively, he moved his nose closer towards the pile, noticing that they were all relatively small. He could easily swallow them whole, though he also noticed that they were raw. Well, no chewing means no tasting, right? Steeling himself, he unsheathed his teeth and grabbed a smaller fish by its tail. No, can't really taste anything. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, and quickly flipped his head up, throwing the fish high into the air. Closing his eyes, he opened his mouth as wide as he could, waiting for the fish to land in it.
A short moment later, he opened his eyes as he felt the fish hit the center of his face, before slowly sliding off of his nose and towards the ground. Darting his head towards the side, he caught the small fish in his mouth and jerked his head back. A satisfied feeling came over him as it slid down his throat, and he smiled once more.
After devouring what fish he could from the pile, he laid on his back and rubbed his now full stomach. A purr sounded from his body, though by now he wasn't quite as surprised. After almost biting off his tongue via seemingly nonexistent teeth, purring like a cat seemed relatively tame. He closed his eyes and rolled onto his side, curling his tail towards his head. A quick nap then, he decided, still purring as he slowly drifted off to sleep.
When he awoke again, he found that the pile of fish had been restocked. While certainly welcome, he had to admit that he was a little surprised, and cautious. Obviously someone, or something, was keeping him fed. But who? He realized that he had no idea how dragon families worked. Did they abandon their young? Or did they seemingly abandon them just to see how well they might survive? And how were they produced? Eggs? They were reptiles, so that was plausible. Then again, he knew of some snakes that reproduced with live births.
But he had had neither. He just appeared, seemingly out of thin air. So… did he even have parents? Well, if he did and they weren't showing themselves to him, he didn't respect them at all. However, he was used to being alone. A soft sigh escaped him as he rose to his paws. Why do I only recall depressing information?
He sat quietly for a moment, staring up at the sky and simply listening. It was remarkable what he could hear now. Even before he'd lost most of his hearing during his previous existence, he knew no human would be capable of hearing what he now could. He snorted, shaking his head. "I was colorblind and partially deaf. Any other defects I had?" he asked aloud, chuckling.
His amusement died almost as quickly as it had started. Alone. He had always been alone, even when there were others around him. While he didn't know why, he just knew it to be the truth. "No matter," he sighed. "I refuse to be depressed! Though a little company would be nice."
After some time, he felt a familiar and yet foreign feeling, one that intrigued and worried him. How the hell do I relieve myself? A quick trip through the forest had him both intrigued and a little disgusted. Sometimes it positively stank to have a strong sense of smell.
The next big obstacle was something that he hadn't anticipated. Purpose. He was alive, he was relatively happy, yet he had nothing to do! Or at least, nothing yet. For the moment though, he was bored. "Well, I suppose I should… exercise? No. Well, maybe yes actually," he mused, tilting his head. He knew he should get better accustomed to his new body. While he didn't have much to be physically proud of as a human, he knew he was always proud of his control over his body.
That thought in mind, he began to develop a set of exercises designed to make him use all his newfound muscles and limbs. To start with, he began to run at a steady pace around the clearing, making sure to use every one of his four legs. While at first it proved to be challenging, and bounding to be infinitely easier, he decided it would be worth it in the long run. Eventually, he noticed that each leg felt much looser. He was also not stumbling quite as much as he had when he first started the exercise.
Running as he was proved to be tiring, though not as it had when he was a human. It seemed that dragons had much more natural stamina, which brought a smile to him. After what seemed to be hours of running, he noticed that he wasn't sweating, though he did have his mouth open and was quite obviously salivating. I guess that I sweat through my mouth. Like a dog? Not the strangest thing I suppose.
Before he tired himself out too much, he stopped and began to work on his next exercise: flapping his wings and waving his tail around in a every which way as he did so. As he started the process, he looked back over his body to stare at his wings and tail. I look like I'm dancing, he thought with amusement, watching his rear bounce around with the movement of his tail. Hopefully no one is around to witness this particular activity.
He knew he looked ridiculous, but he also knew that if such actions brought him more stability and confidence in his body, it would be worth it. He kept up his actions for some time, but eventually his hind legs began to ache from keeping up with his moving tail. Ceasing his tail movements, he began to focus more on his wings. Those didn't hurt as much as they should have. At least, not in his opinion. That thought in mind, he moved his wings faster, changing the directions that they moved so that it wasn't straight up and down.
Finally, after quite a long time by his standards, his wings began to ache just as much as the rest of his body. Deciding that that was enough, he tucked his wings in and began to bound around the clearing once more, though not pushing himself very fast. He stretched out his wings and tail as he did so, using the movement as a cooldown from his 'workout'.
He slowed his movements and stilled his tail, moving towards the pile of fish once more. After tucking his wings snugly against his body once more, he reached his head down to smell around the pile. Not smelling anything other than the fish, dirt, grass and trees, he sighed and picked out a fish. A magic pile of fish. Like an all you can eat buffet, but more mysterious and less cooked. Well, in most cases. I'm fairly sure I've had bad experiences with buffets before.
The thought amused him as he tossed the fish into the air, keeping his eyes on it this time. It landed neatly in his mouth, almost causing him to choke as it hit the back of his throat. He quickly swallowed it and coughed, shaking his head. "Ok, stupid idea," he rasped. Slowly, he began to eat his fill of fish once more. After he had finished, he raised his head and closed his eyes, smelling the air around him.
Ok, I can definitely smell water nearby. Honestly, between the water, shelter and seemingly bottomless fish pile, this is a really nice place for a dragon to live. Anyone to live, honestly, he mused. Opening his eyes, he headed towards the direction the water smell was coming from, reaching a small stream sooner than he had expected.
Lowering his head to the water, he paused. How do I drink? The thought had never occurred to him before. Frowning, he tried lapping at it like he'd seen dogs do before. His tongue got cold, but not much else happened. Narrowing his eyes, he lowered his jaw into the stream and bit at the water, sealing his lips tightly. He raised his head and swallowed, eyes widening in delight at his success.
After drinking his fill, he returned to the clearing and laid down underneath a bush near the pile of fish. With any luck, whoever was filling it would wake him up when they put more fish on it. Stretching out his wings and tail one last time, he curled himself into the same ball he had earlier. Tomorrow, I should explore my surroundings a bit, he decided. PT first though…
His sleep was undisturbed that night, filled with nothing but rest and relaxation. When he woke the next day, he felt as though he had had the best sleep of his life. The birds that acted as an alarm clock, however, did put a slight damper on his start. "Almost wish my bad hearing was back," he grumbled tiredly. "No matter, I need to get the day started anyway. Can't go getting lazy."
As he began to run around the clearing once more, it occurred to him that he didn't really know why he was set on exercising first thing in the morning. It felt as though he had done it for years, just another part of his day. But he didn't know why. He wondered if it was maybe just something he had done for the fun of it, though he didn't find it much fun now. No, now it was as though it was simply habit.
He pushed himself further than he had the night before, doing everything faster and harder than he had. At the end of his exercise, he found himself incredibly glad to be so close to a constant stream of fresh water. After quenching his thirst, and then eating his fill, he set about with his plans for the day. It felt good to have a plan.
As he wandered through the forest, making sure to keep a mental track of his clearing, he noticed that there was a lot of wildlife around. A few times he saw a glimpse of a deer bounding through the trees, saw a boar digging through the dirt near his clearing, heard and saw many squirrels and birds, and even caught a glimpse of a few mice. I should try hunting something today, he thought. I don't know if the fish pile will last forever, and I'd rather be somewhat competent by that point.
He didn't see any sign of other dragons, which both relieved and disappointed him. On the one hand, he really didn't know if dragons were meant to be social creatures, or if they all preferred a life of solitude. Considering the fact that he was small… he wouldn't really stand a chance against a larger dragon. If there were larger dragons, that was. Who knows, maybe all dragons were two feet tall.
After a few hours of exploring, he came across an incredibly tall cliff, one that stretched hundreds of feet into the sky. His eyes widened, and he sat down heavily as he stared up at it. Now I really feel small, he whined. Narrowing his eyes once more, he nodded decisively. "So I swear, mighty beast, I shall conquer thee before seven nights have passed!" he declared loudly, raising a paw at it in mock anger. "That will teach you to be so blasted big."
With yet another goal in mind, he turned to retrace his steps towards the clearing, though he didn't make a point of rushing back. He needed to learn how to hunt, and there was no time like the present. Rather quickly, he noticed how comfortable he was in his body. It was almost like he'd always been a dragon. But, being comfortable did not mean being stealthy. He tried his best, but he never got closer than ten feet to a squirrel, and even further from a mouse. Not even going to try stalking a deer, he thought bitterly. Of course, as soon as he saw an opportunity to do so, he tried to stalk one anyway. It ended predictably.
Growing more and more frustrated, he decided to throw his stealth to the wind for now and sprinted as fast as he could through the trees towards the clearing. Almost as soon as he took off, he heard a startled squeal and turned his head to see a few mice racing away from his sudden burst of movement. Huh. I was right next to them that whole time? Guess I need to be mo-, his thought was cut off as he felt himself run into something very hard, immediately giving himself a massive headache. "Ouch!" he cried as he collapsed onto the ground, clutching at his pained head.
(-)
"Stupid trees," he growled as he entered the clearing. "Today is not going as I'd hoped it would." Sitting down with a huff, he began to lick at his shoulder, the scabs from the previous day having split open again from his exercise.
Now what?
He decided that it would be best for him to take a quick break from the day, at least from the physical aspects of it. Laying down, he observed his secluded clearing more attentively, trying to see if there was anything he might have missed in his time there so far. However, after a few minutes of seeing nothing, he decided enough was enough. "Better ways to work on that particular issue," he muttered, sitting up.
As he got up to move towards the pile of fish once again, a flicker of movement caught his attention in the bushes. Quickly whipping his head to face it, he narrowed his eyes. "Hello?" he called, moving towards where the motion was slowly. When he didn't get a response, he started to move a little quicker, pausing when he was a few feet away from the bush. He stared at it intently but didn't see anything.
Crouching low to the ground, he tensed his leg muscles. In a sudden burst of movement, he pounced through the bush, front paws outstretched. His claws sank into flesh, and he heard a pained squeal erupt from whatever it was that he had just attacked. His momentum carried him through the rest of the bush, and he collided fully with the animal. Quickly shaking his head, he leapt away from it, eyes taking in its features.
It was a boar, a large one. Not only was it large, he noticed, but it looked pissed. As he stared, the hog rushed at him, swinging its tusks at him. Once more he leapt away, arcing his body to try and avoid its swipe. He let out a yowl of pain as one of its tusks drew itself across his left cheek. Ignoring the injury for the moment, he bolted back through the bush and into the clearing. Need room to move, he thought, the boar right behind him.
He tried to put some distance between them, running as fast as he could, but the hog was gaining. Hearing it squeal in rage, he pushed himself off to the side and dug his claws into the dirt as he whipped around to face it. To his relief, the boar rushed past him with its hooves sliding over the grass as it tried to stop its momentum. Finally stopping, it turned to face him. Tensing his muscles, he prepared to jump out of the way as it charged him once more.
This could be very bad, he thought as he dodged another charge. I definitely don't want to get pinned by it. Those tusks are sharp. As it rushed past him again, he swiped a paw at its side, feeling his claws lightly scratching its flank. At least it can't turn too fast when it's charging.
Having been wounded yet again by his claws, the boar looked positively livid. When it turned to face him again, he was surprised when it didn't rush him immediately. As he stared into its unintelligent gaze, he found himself wondering if it was even possible for him to win this fight. He had already wounded it with his claws twice, yet all that had seemed to do was make it more enraged.
It began to charge at him again, and he prepared to dodge once more. He saw it lower its head as he himself lowered his body, and it swung its tusks at him as he tried to avoid it. While it missed most of his body, he had forgotten that he now had a tail. He was reminded of that fact as one of the boar's tusks pierced it, in between his secondary fins and the ones on the end of his tail.
For some reason, something deep inside of him screamed at him to protect his tail fins at all cost. In the split second that followed the tusk entering into his tail, he leaped onto the boars back and dug his claws into its shoulders as he brought his tail out of harms way. Immediately the boar began bucking and squealing, shaking its head from side to side. With his teeth unsheathed, he latched his jaws around the back of its neck, wrapping his forepaws around it as he did so.
He tuned out the boar's now panicked screams and began to claw at its throat furiously as he shook his head, tearing into its flesh. The hot taste of its blood filled his mouth, though it didn't disgust him as he thought it would. Instead it seemed to fill his body with an incredible energy, and he shook his head even harder and dug his claws in deeper. It was good.
After what seemed to be hours, though was probably at most a few minutes, he felt the hog's struggles grow weaker. Finally, the large creature stopped its movements and stood, before collapsing slowly onto its forelegs, followed shortly by its hindlegs. Then it rolled onto its side and stopped moving, barring a few twitches.
He remained locked onto its back for a few moments after it collapsed, making sure that it wasn't going to be getting back up. Then he relaxed his grip and removed his mouth. Slowly, his heart pounding furiously, he crept off it and made his way in front of it. It's eyes, once holding some serious rage, were now empty and void of any signs of life. Only then did he take in a deep breath and begin to relax, collapsing onto his belly as he began to pant.
What is my luck, he groaned mentally, rolling onto his side. I've been here for two days and I've already almost died. He stared at the large creature in disbelief, only now processing how large it was. While it had appeared to be larger when it was still living and furious, it was definitely larger than himself.
Soon though, the adrenaline running through his body began to fade and he once again became aware of his injuries. Wincing, he sat up slowly and reached a paw towards his torn cheek, eyes widening as he felt the extent of the injury. It had torn his skin, scales and all, from the corner of his mouth back towards the back of his head, just below his eye. Seriously, am I lucky or unlucky? he asked himself as he continued to feel around it. It wasn't a clean cut either. It felt to be around an inch wide and eight inches long, with the ends tapering down to points.
Bringing his tail up in front of him, he studied his new injury there. His eyes widened and he began to lick at it gently, relief filling his body as the pain began to fade away. This one was more of a puncture wound, and he found himself incredibly relieved that it wasn't worse. It still hurt far worse than the one on his cheek.
He turned his attention back towards the boar and tilted his head. I don't want it to go to waste… but how the hell am I going to eat that thing? As he approached it, he wondered at how normal it seemed to be considering eating a large, raw and once live pig without first skinning or cooking it. It should have disgusted him, but instead it was… normal.
Opening his jaws wide, and wincing at the pain in his cheek, he sank his teeth into its shoulder. Surprisingly easily, he was able to rip out a manageable chunk with the still warm meat. Swallowing it quickly, he began to tear into the pig, becoming aware of just how hungry he was. He ate until he was full and then some, just to be sure, before backing away to clean his chest, legs and paws, all of which were covered in blood from either the fight or his meal.
Now clean, he laid down and continue to clean his right foreleg, eyeing the carcass as he did so. Either Pumbaa was smaller than I thought, or dragons can eat a lot. Maybe both, he mused, not questioning who Pumbaa was. He thought about falling asleep right then but decided that he should tend to his facial wound.
As he staggered over to the creek, it occurred to him that he was very tired. Lots of food and intensive exercise, he reasoned, taking a drink before lowering his head under the water. The cool water felt ridiculously good against his wound, and he began to purr. Opening his eyes under the water, he watched as the red tint surrounding him began to dissipate. Closing his eyes once more, he shook his head furiously. Once he was satisfied that his scales were clear of blood, he lifted his head out of the water, breathing smoothly. I can hold my breath for quite a while, apparently, he thought tiredly, making his way back to his sleeping spot.
"Well, tomorrow is going to suck," he said softly, curling into position.
(-)
His prediction proved to be correct, as he woke up stiff and in pain the next day. He still forced himself to move and take his morning workout. Eating all that he could of the boar, along with a few fish for diversity, he set out on his plans for the day. While he wanted to take things easy for the day, he decided on pushing himself. Pain hadn't stopped him before, and it certainly wasn't going to stop him now.
Today he had decided that he was going to work on running through the forest. It wasn't going to be easy, nor would it be fast, but he knew it wouldn't hurt for the sake of avoiding obstacles in the future. Who knew, maybe he could think of an activity that would require moving quickly through a wooded area.
His latest idea proved to be annoying, to say the least. For one thing, he couldn't run very fast and still avoid the trees. For another, his tail started to hurt again. Each quick turn sent a needle of pain up his tail, the first time making him crash into a tree. Still, he persevered.
When the sun was past its highest point, he decided that he should go back to his clearing for more food, putting his practice into play. While it wasn't much, there was definitely a noticeable improvement in his movements. Pain was a powerful motivator, after all.
After his lunch, he began to practice sneaking around, wanting to be able to add more diversity to his diet without enraging a pig and almost dying. That would be a poor way to die, he mused, carefully placing his paws onto the forest floor. Death by pig. I would have to be the worst dragon in history. He narrowed his eyes, looking at a squirrel that was a few yards away. Tensing his muscles, he crouched down and took a few more steps towards it. Now, he thought, leaping forward with his paws outstretched.
"Damnit," he complained, watching as the squirrel skittered up the tree. "One day, squirrel, one day…"
Taking the failure in stride, he immediately turned around to look for a new target. A leaf on a low hanging branch caught his attention, and he stared at it in determination. That leaf shall know a dragon's wrath, the likes of which it has never known, he mentally swore. Creeping up to it carefully, he paused when he was a couple feet away. Crouching low to the ground, he leaped with as much force as he could, letting out a small roar of celebration as he landed, the leaf in between his paws. True to his word, he promptly began to shred it into tiny pieces.
A feeling of accomplishment settled into his being, though he knew that, however mighty the trial, a leaf was still just that; a leaf. He didn't dwell on it, and just took pride in his work. Looking around, he waited for something else to stalk. Leaves weren't exactly challenging prey, after all. That boar though, he thought. That was an accomplishment.
Spying another squirrel, he set about creeping up on it. This time… Creeping closer and closer to it, he felt adrenaline shooting throughout his body, though to a lesser extent than when he faced the boar. Not pausing this time, he leapt towards it as soon as he was within range, resisting the urge to shout in his delight when he felt fur in between his claws. Delight quickly turned to disappointment when he saw the squirrel skirt up the tree, leaving a small tuft of fur from its tail in his grasp. He sighed dejectedly.
"Well, I suppose that that's going to have to do it for today," he muttered. He glanced up towards the cliff he had come across the day prior, and spent a moment just observing it. Not quite sure how, but I need to climb that.
That thought in mind, he made his way back towards his clearing, pouncing at a mouse that ran across his path. He was only moderately disappointed when it ran away. "The real question is, what exactly am I doing wrong?" he asked. He sighed again, patting a rock that drew his attention. "It's starting to get really old just talking to myself." As he said that, it occurred to him that he didn't know what exactly he was saying. Sounds were coming out of his mouth, but if he hadn't been the one to say them, he didn't think he would understand a word of it. It just sounded like grunts, growls and yowls. Rather irritating to listen to once he thought about it. "Maybe it's a good thing that there is no one around for me to talk to."
He entered the clearing and approached his pile of fish, once again completely restocked without any sign of anyone doing it. His boar was gone, he had finished it off earlier in the day, which he considered to be a blessing. He didn't want it to start smelling, and he really didn't know how long it would stay safe to eat. Or if there was even a time limit for a dragon. Other meat eaters, he knew, could and would eat food that humans would have considered long past spoiled and unfit for eating. It was an interesting thing to consider.
After eating his fill again, he quenched his thirst and returned to his sleeping spot, curling up once again for the night. And so, the ritual continues, he thought in amusement, before his sight faded to black once more.
(-)
The next four days passed in a very similar manner. He would wake up, perform his exercises, eat and drink, and then set about perfecting his skills, or lack thereof. Two days after his skirmish with the boar, he noticed that his wounds no longer pained him. Indeed, the one on his tail was already forming into a rather unsightly scar, and he could only imagine that the one on his cheek was in a similar state. That was good, in his opinion. Scars meant learning, and learning means progress. Progress was what he was after. Three days after the boar attack, he finally caught himself something other than a leaf.
He had been creeping around the forest, missing yet another squirrel, when he had an epiphany. The squirrel hadn't noticed him for the longest time, even when he was only a few feet away. That had changed as soon as the wind did. He found that he could no longer smell the dirt-and-tree scent that the squirrel possessed. The squirrel, however, was disappearing into the branches almost immediately after.
Once he processed what he learned, he realized that he must have a smell like everything else around him. The few times that he had come close to a squirrel without it noticing him, it had been when he could smell them clearly. That didn't explain everything about what he was doing wrong, but it certainly explained a lot. They could smell him.
Bringing his tail up towards his nose, he inhaled deeply, focusing on his scent. There was a faint smell of blood, that of fish and also that of grass. He figured he must have missed a few spots on him when he was cleaning himself of blood. Armed with that new knowledge, he made his way to a deeper part of the creek and jumped in it.
Coincidentally, that was also when he found out that he really didn't know how to swim. He found himself glad that he could hold his breath for a while, long enough for him to claw his way across the creek bed and into a shallower area. He decided that he should learn how to swim while he was there and spent a few hours in the water, long enough for him to be able to swim competently, if not skillfully. For whatever reason, the action brought him a fair bit of peace. He must have enjoyed the water in his previous life. It was almost like he'd spent a lot of his life in it.
After feeling confident enough in his actions to be able to swim constantly for many minutes on end, he crawled out of the water and brought his tail up to his nose again. The smells he had noticed earlier were all gone, replaced entirely by that of water. Deciding that smelling a large amount of water would be strange in the forest, as it hadn't rained since he'd been there, he rolled in grass and dirt, bushes and rubbed himself up against a few trees. The result boosted his confidence substantially. He didn't smell of anything in particular, just the forest.
Pleased with his work, he set about finding something to hunt. The first thing he spotted was a deer, grazing in between a couple trees. While he didn't want to even attempt to bring a deer down, he figured that it would, at the very least, be good practice to see if his new plan worked. Moving very carefully, he approached the deer, pausing when he was close enough that, if he had wanted to, he could have jumped onto its back in one motion. There he laid down and waited.
For the next five minutes, he did nothing but observe the deer as it grazed, being sure to keep a low profile. A few times its gaze passed right over him, and the deer didn't even see him. The real test came when the winds shifted again, and suddenly he was upwind. He held his breath, but the deer didn't react. It merely twitched an ear and went about its business. The next time it had its back to him, he took the opportunity to sneak away just as carefully as he had previously. The deer never even noticed him.
After that success, he became very excited to try hunting himself some food. He didn't have to search long, there were plenty of small animals around. But he was looking for one particular prey item, one that he had a personal vendetta against.
There, he thought, eyes coming to rest on a squirrel about halfway up a tree. He was upwind of it, but that didn't bother him now. After the deer, he was confident that it wouldn't notice him by scent. Besides, he may have been upwind of it, but it was facing away from him. Sight and hearing are what he had to worry about. When he was close enough, closer than he'd ever been to one before while not pouncing, he leapt at it. Delight flooded his system as he felt caught the squirrel by its body, and a quick bite put it out of its misery. He let out a roar of triumph, and then ate the squirrel.
"That'll teach you, you fluffy rats," he said, grinning.
For the rest of that day and the next, he spent most of his time hunting or stalking, eager to perfect that latest skill. He no longer took from the fish pile as often as he had, though he still took a fair amount from it. When he wasn't doing that or sleeping, he would swim or run through the trees.
Seven days after he first woke up in the clearing, he decided that he would spend that day climbing to the top of that cliff. He knew that he couldn't just climb up the section he had first seen and would have to instead see if there was a more manageable side around it. After his morning routine, he immediately ran to the cliff, where he sat and gazed at it for a few minutes.
Slowly, he followed the base of the cliff, staring up at it to see if he could spot any potential routes. At first, he didn't see any clear paths, though he thought he saw one that might be possible, but he couldn't tell for sure. Erring on the side of caution, he continued looking.
The sun was approaching its highest point when he finally spotted a small game trail that winded up its side. Staring up at it, he knew it would take him several hours to reach the top. No time like the present, he thought, amused. That thought in mind, he began the trek up the mountain.
Well, that was chapter one. I hope you all enjoyed and let me know your thoughts. I understand that there is a lot to process in this chapter, namely that our MC doesn't have a name, and also has incredibly selective amnesia. His response to becoming a dragon is also highly unusual, I am aware. After all, what sane person would come up with a booty wiggle to help get acclimated to their body? That particular scene had me smiling and cringing at the same time as I wrote it. To be honest, it wasn't entirely planned that way. It was just supposed to be a simple rotation of the tail… which I then theorized would cause his whole body to move. Hence, the wiggle. It serves its purpose though.
As someone I recently started speaking with told me, everything seems so obvious when you're the one writing the story. I agree with that completely. I hope that the foreshadowing I've included in this chapter aren't too obvious, even though it seems to be as subtle as a brick through glass in my eyes.
Also, I'm fairly sure that amnesia wouldn't affect people like it's affecting the MC. I am very aware of that. So please, do not tell me about realism or lack thereof in the story. It's about dragons after all lmao.
Another thing I will address before someone mentions it: This is not a standard 'character lost in TV land' type of story, though I suppose it technically is. Essentially, HTTYD does not exist in our MC's world. Bear that in mind. And no, I don't consider that a spoiler lol. It gives nothing important to the story away.
That should be everything. See you next chapter!
-Aelan