It was safe to say that Igneel did not particularly care for humans. They were small and weak and killed far too easily. They paled in comparison to new born hatchlings and were useless in a fight. And, due to some rule to keep peace between the two species, he wasn't allowed to eat them either.
His life had been mainly spent ignoring or avoiding the puny things so when he found one on the outskirts of his territory, he wasn't entirely sure of what to make of it. The human was tiny, only the size of perhaps his left nostril – the smallest one – and sitting in its own little nest. It's big eyes were black, oddly enough and he seemed to be wrapped in cloth. But what really made the human stand out were the curly tufts of pink hair sprouting out the top of its head.
Igneel took a sniff. Did humans have hair like that?
He raised his head, elongating his neck so that he could see over the tallest trees in the forest. Whatever it was there had to be others. The wind was blowing from the north smelling a little salty and briefly, Igneel contemplated the possibility of a storm before concentrating back at the task on hand. The air around them smelled earthy, sort of gravelly and deep, but there was very little scent of humans. Usually, the acrid stench of their fear could be smelled a mile off.
He looked down at the small human, noting once more its size. How long had it been out here? It's eyes were half-closed, complexion pale and it wasn't moving.
Igneel nudged it gently with his claw. Was it dead? It made no movements and if dragons could sigh, he definitely would have. Instead, he settled for swinging his tail behind him dejectedly – demolishing half the forest like dominoes. It swished around, annoyed and frustrated. Whose stupid idea was it to leave miniature humans lying around?
Screw this! He swiped the thing - blue linen nest and all - off the ground, hooking one sharp talon through the loop in the fabric. Grandine was about to get one hell of a present!
"What's this?" The white dragon grumbled, sapphire eyes wise with age. "It's not my birthday...not that you have any idea when that is anyway."
Igneel rolled his eyes, "Living another year or two is nothing to celebrate. Why would I give you things?"
"It's human tradition. Gifts on the day of your birth to show appreciation."
"I doubt you even remember when that was," He snorted.
"Well, you're no better!"
"True."
Grandine, the Sky Dragon, eyed the bundle curiously. "Is that a human's cot?"
"A what?"
"Like a portable sunny spot to lie in."
Igneel tilted his head, checking from all angles. "There's no sun."
"No, idiot. I meant that it was like a dragon's favourite place to sleep. Human's call it a bed."
"This is a bed?"
She stomped one foot on the floor of her cave and shook her scales, "Why do I bother?"