Disclaimer: I don't own Jane and the Dragon.
Yeah, this does not make up for the long silence, and I thought I would be more available over this summer, but there are certain things going on that are getting in the way of writing and updating on a regular basis [if what I was doing before was regular updating]. Firstly, I have managed to land some employment for the summer, which eats up a lot of my time. Secondly, my trusty laptop's been having issues with it's cooling fan [it makes a whole lot of noise and the computer heats up to the point where I could cook an egg on the keyboard]. All in all, this is either going to end up with servicing [which I'm not so sure I want to do, as this computer is over three years old and probably will need increased maintenance to run properly], or getting something new [which is always cool, and I'm up for doing a bit of shopping when it comes to new tech]. Either way, while I'm not going to be gone from , this will most likely put some serious crimps in updating. Which is why I'm giving you this crappy piece in an offering of peace. Please don't kill me...I really don't think it'd be worth the trouble...
Watching:
If there was anything to be said for this green world, while the caves may not have been in abundance, the small feathery things certainly were. There was currently a whole group of them in the open area of the clearing. The hatchling watched, unconsciously settling down into a crouch in order to remain unnoticed. For the most part, the feathery creatures paid him no mind, most unaware, others moved away once they saw the reptile.
Nonetheless, a great deal of the birds were quite close, and the hatchling felt a strange urge start to worm it's way into his mind. Mock-roaring, the reptile made a charge for the avian group, a giddy, gleeful squeak blurting out through the growling when they all squawked and panicked, practically mowing each other down for a break to the air. The frantic scramble, not to mention the feathers, dirt, and grass that flew high into the air, made the hatchling collapse into giggling squeaks. And, the featherbrained animals that they were, they settled down not too far from the amused lizard, almost begging to be spooked again.
And spook them he did, though this time, he unknowingly incorporated a part of his own instinct into the chase, partially following them into the air before he came down with a skidding slide on the dirt, chirping and squeaking with glee. It was the best game he had ever played.