A/N: I finished this 21 December 2021. I think. I worked on this entirely in "sprints" in a Discord server.

xXx

Jazz flopped forward, onto his front. He whined softly as he watched Prowl bustle around the ground below him. Stupid little mech. Why hadn't Prowl noticed him yet? He supposed he was really very far up for the mech to see. Jazz was a small dragon, after all. He'd been stalking Prowl for a while now as the mech searched the woods for herbs and fruit in season, but now, here he was, not even trying to hide. Agh!

His back leg bounced in his agitation. He wanted Prowl's attention! Of course, Prowl hadn't ever met him before, and he'd probably try to kill him on sight. That was just how things usually went with mortals. Mecha. Whatever.

He had to try! Had to! Jazz chirped and stood up, stretching. Oh, oh, very nice. The sun felt so nice on him. Maybe he should just sit down and relax. No! Prowl! He had to talk to Prowl! Or not talk, perhaps, depending on how Prowl reacted to him. Some bots did better if they didn't know that dragons were sentient and just as, if not more, intelligent than they were. Jazz huffed, snorting an acid cloud out of his nostrils.

He spread his large, glorious wings and dove off the side of the cliff. The wind over his scales was glorious. He pulled up just in time to not hit the ground, and he landed smoothly. He glanced over at Prowl.

Still oblivious.

AGH!

How? How had Prowl not noticed? The mech's back was still turned to him. Jazz glared briefly then padded around a tree, curling around it to stare at Prowl. He chirped.

Prowl's wings twitched, and he looked up and around, an expression of surprise on his face. Finally.

Jazz chirped again.

Prowl turned and looked at him. He shouted in alarm and pulled out… a dagger? Was that a dagger? Yes, it was a dagger. A dull one by the looks of it.

Jazz almost laughed. How puny. That wouldn't do anything to him. He stepped forward around the tree and tucked his wings close to his body. His pretty horns shone in the sunlight, he knew, catching and reflecting what caught on them through the leaves.

Prowl stepped back again. He'd dropped the basket he'd been gathering stuff in. Aw. Jazz hadn't meant to startle him that badly.

Jazz sat down on his haunches and stared at Prowl. Oh, Prowl was so pretty. He chirped again, head bobbing, trying not to look like a threat. Come on, put the dagger away. He was harmless! To Prowl, at least. He liked Prowl. He wouldn't ever do anything to hurt Prowl on purpose.

Prowl hesitated. Yes, yes, good, lower the dagger. Jazz straightened, wiggling slightly as it lowered. Oh, fabulous. The villager with the pretty wings didn't stop looking at Jazz even as he crouched and righted the basket, starting to put the nuts and berries and herbs back into it. It would be unnerving for anybody else to see that, but Jazz knew the wings were sensory organs, like his horns. Prowl didn't need to look at something to see it.

Jazz just kept watching him. He didn't make a move to disturb Prowl. He let Prowl put all the items back in the basket before the mech stood back up. Jazz shifted on his paws, curious, anxious, excited. He wanted nothing more than to run forward and sniff all over Prowl. He was so pretty. He was white and black just like him.

Aw, Prowl had armed the dagger again. Jazz huffed, and his posture grew visibly disappointed and wilted.

"No, you do not get to look sad like that," Prowl murmured, starting to back away, "You are the size of a chromehorse."

Yes! Yes, he was! He was still a small dragon! Jazz chirped again and stood up, looking excited. His audials swiveled forward and up, paying attention to Prowl. Prowl didn't seem to think he was small though. Did he? Prowl seemed so intimidated. He was, of course, far more deadly than most bots were, especially when they were from such a small village as Prowl was from.

"Shoo. Shoo, go away. I am leaving your territory. See? I am backing up," Prowl said, his voice still quiet and soft.

Jazz tilted his head. What? No, he didn't want Prowl to leave. He wanted him to stay! At least for a little while. Oh! Itchy! Jazz turned his head and scratched at his neck with one of his back paws. A few scales flaked off. He hated shedding. His optics widened, and he leaned down, carefully picking up the couple scales in his mouth. He darted up the nearby tree and stared at Prowl, high up in the branches. Prowl's wings went low.

Jazz raced over the tree branches until he was over Prowl, and he walked down the trunk. Prowl's legs seemed too stiff to move, and Jazz could smell the fear coming from him. He huffed and lowered his helm to the basket, leaning forward and dropping the pair of scales into it. Then he jerked back and darted up the tree again and over to another one. Jazz could hear Prowl's fuel pump working fast even from over here. Silly mech.

Then Prowl kept backing up, backing over a protruding root with ease, even as he kept staring at Jazz. Jazz squeaked at him. Prowl glanced down at the two shimmering opal scales in his basket and swallowed hard.

They were pretty, see? Jazz knew mecha liked pretty things. His scales were pretty! Prowl didn't have anything to fear from him.

Prowl's wings came up a few inches, and he slowly turned around. Jazz watched in excitement. This was trusting behavior. He kept following Prowl through the trees, and Prowl's wings went up higher, at what Jazz had learned was a very alert position. He watched as Prowl collected a few more items, more nuts that had fallen to the ground.

Hmm. So Prowl was gathering food. Jazz scampered off, not looking at Prowl as he left. He found his favorite tree, a big tree filled with big juicy fruits that shone purple. He plucked a few off the tree and held them in his paw, against his chest. He was very careful as he made his way back to Prowl. Only, Prowl was not where he was. Jazz narrowed his optics and headed in the direction Prowl had been going, toward his village. Seemed like Prowl had taken off at a run the moment Jazz had left.

Jazz sprinted after him, using his wings to give him an extra boost through the trees. He had to catch up before Prowl got back to the village!

He heard him. Panting and quick pedefalls. Jazz pushed himself further, and then he caught sight of Prowl. He lunged forward, thighs burning as he launched off a tree branch. He landed in front of Prowl and turned to look at him.

Prowl stumbled to a halt, only barely keeping himself upright.

"What do you want?" the mech asked, loudly and upset, wings twitching rapidly as he clutched his basket.

Jazz growled at him, annoyed, and then shook his helm quickly. No. No, he shouldn't be frustrated with him. At least, he shouldn't take it out on Prowl. He lowered himself and set the shiny purple fruits on the ground. Then he backed up, out of immediate striking distance.

Prowl hesitated. Yes, good, realize it was a gift from him! Jazz laid himself down and set his head down on his paws. A soft whine escaped him, and he lowered his wings, too, spreading them. That was a stance that made it harder to take off in flight. It was dangerous to put himself in it for too long.

Slowly, the mech stepped forward, up to the fruit. Jazz's audial shells swiveled forward. He chuffed softly and averted his optics. Prowl set the basket down. He took one of the fruits in his hands. And oh, it was huge to him. One of them was the size of both of his hands, easily. Prowl felt over it, looking curiously. It was somewhat soft. Jazz knew he'd picked it at the perfect ripeness.

Prowl pressed his digits into it, near the top. He dug a piece out and lifted it to his mouth. He licked it first, and his optics brightened. "Oh… it's good," he murmured.

Jazz squeaked, tail thrashing behind him. Yes! Yes, it was! It had a sweet taste, mild but distinctive. Prowl looked up at him suspiciously, staring warily at his tail. Jazz didn't try to stop the motion. The villager pulled the dagger out and sliced a piece off, showing off more of the flesh. It was purple all the way down to the core, only getting deeper and more vibrant as it went.

Prowl ate that piece too, and he hummed softly, optics dimming from the pleasure of the taste.

"Thank you," he said.

Jazz rumbled back, expression turning pleased.

Prowl sliced another piece of the fruit off and slowly, very slowly, stretched his arm out. Jazz watched curiously. What was he doing? Was Prowl offering it to him? Why?

"Come on. Here. It is for you," Prowl murmured, voice soothing and encouraging.

Jazz lifted his head and tilted it, staring from Prowl's hand to his face and back. He slowly lowered his head again and stretched his neck out, sniffing at Prowl's fingertips. The signs of nervousness in the small villager increased, wings twitching high and venting speeding up, but he didn't back away. Jazz opened his mouth and stuck his glossa out. It was long, and he curled it around Prowl's digits, enveloping the piece of fruit and then pulling back.

Prowl slid backward and shuddered, a grimace of—he couldn't tell if it was disgust or fear. Probably disgust, judging by how he was wiping his fingers on the grass trying to wipe the oral lubricant off.

Jazz slid the piece of fruit around in his mouth, mashing it against the roof of his mouth and his denta to split it into pieces. He didn't exactly have denta made for grinding plant matter. No, his denta were fangs, meant to rip flesh from carcasses.

Prowl watched, expression curious and wings tilted forward. Jazz swallowed and chirped, settling back down.

"I am glad you like it," Prowl said. He put the dagger away and put the rest of the fruit into his basket.

Jazz chuffed, optics narrowing. Prowl wasn't going to finish the fruit? Or eat more of it, at least? Why? It was delicious! And Prowl surely must be hungry after spending the morning foraging.

"Do not give me that look," the Praxian mumbled, "I have to get back home."

Oh. But why? Jazz grunted unhappily and stood up, circling around to the nearest tree and hopping up it. At least he'd managed to give Prowl the fruit like he'd wanted to.

"You make that look so easy," Prowl commented.

Because it was! Couldn't Prowl climb trees? Jazz blinked at him. Hmm. He'd never seen one of the little mecha climb a tree. He'd seen their little ones, their hatchlings, attempt it when he'd watched the village, but they hadn't been too good at it. He'd thought it was just that the mecha hatchlings needed more practice.

"I am leaving now," Prowl said.

What? No! He didn't want Prowl to leave. Jazz chirped unhappily and followed Prowl as the villager gathered up his items and started to walk toward his home settlement.

"No, stop," Prowl said, himself pausing in his walk. He turned his helm and looked up at Jazz in the tree, "You cannot come with me."

What? But but but! Jazz wilted. Why not? He wouldn't hurt anything. Or anybody. Unless they hurt Prowl or him first.

"I swear you can almost understand me. Do I do such a good job putting my emotions in my words?" Prowl huffed and shook his head. He glared at Jazz briefly. "Annoying little dragon," he murmured as he resumed his march. He looked down at his basket, lightly touching the fruit.

Jazz resumed climbing in the tree Prowl kept going. The villager's wings twitched, but he didn't look back. After a few minutes, Jazz jumped down. Prowl startled and turned, looking at him. Jazz tilted his helm, staying where he was.

"Do you not have a den?" Prowl asked, frowning. Jazz chirped. Of course he had a den! All dragons had dens. And all mecha had their weird little structures made of wood and leaves and stone. The stone ones were similar to his home, dug out of the mountain, but very few of the mecha had them. Jazz wondered why. Stone was so much better.

Prowl shook his head and turned around, continuing on. He didn't seem overly bothered as Jazz followed, or at least, not more bothered than he'd already expressed.

Jazz trotted forward and jumped into another tree after a while, once he could smell the village up ahead. He could see it through the leaves, too. He watched Prowl keep going, and then Prowl paused and glanced back, looking at him briefly. There was a frown on the mech's face, and the pretty wings twitched low. Worry? Concern? Confusion? Jazz couldn't quite tell. Maybe all three.

Then Prowl shook his head and continued forward, to the little den his slept in. It seemed small for four bots, but he entered.

Jazz wished he would come out soon, but on days he foraged, Prowl spent the rest of the day inside his den.

After a few minutes, Jazz sighed and turned, darting over the branches of the large trees, back to the base of the mountain. He took off from there, returning to his den.

He would see Prowl another day.