A/N: You know this drill folks.

Oh, good lordy what am I still doing awake? Trying to get you guys a bunch of stuff before school officially kicks back in is what. I barely remember pounding out the last few bits, I just remember old Hanna Barbera Cartoons keeping me moderately entertained as I plunked away at the keyboard.

Also, before I forget, I would like the lot of you to stop by my Fictionpress page, link listed at the bottom of my bio. Why? Because there are new things up there I think you people would really like to see. Remember how everyone kept telling me that I should be writing professionally, or they would buy this from me if it were a book? Well here's your opportunity to support a writer and go comment and leave crit on a couple of chapters from one of my latest works! C'mon guys, do your civic and artistic duty and give a writer some feedback! The story, soon to be collection if I can manage it, is called the Spotlight series. Go give it some love. The power of I-need-feedback commands you.

*Ahem.*

And please enjoy this piece here. Chances are, given from what we've seen in the show, Dragon is going to end up in Africa at some point, probably the Savanna, but for now he's got to suffer through some European winters first.

Sheltering:

The cold came on with a lot more fervor this year. The temperatures had dropped to downright freezing overnight, with his not-so furry limbs feeling nearly every cold breeze that made its way into his little hollow. Sometimes he contemplated sneaking into the nearby tree-caves of the two-leggeds, seeing as from the way they stayed in more often than not as the temperature dropped.

Curled up in a ball under some raggedy bushes, the reptile tried to huddle in as much as possible in an instinctive effort to keep himself warm. He had been watching the two-leggeds pack up their assets for the night, herding their four-leggeds and moo-makers into the huge tree caves and putting funny branches over the door. Catching sight of the practice, the dragon looked up, watching their motions and pulling himself partially to his feet as he kept careful attention of the two-leggeds movements as a plan started to form in his mind.

Once they had moved back into their tree-cave [an agonizingly freezing span of time later], he started to quietly creep his way through the plants and eventually onto the rough-hewn path that wagons and four-leggeds had carved into the earth. It felt painfully open and vulnerable, so the dragon skirted quickly across and through the bare branches of the odd-looking tree-bush-plants that ringed the four-leggeds' little stretch of green. They gave a terrible, loud creak when he forced his way through, making him stop and wait a moment in shivery, cold air as he waited to see if he had been discovered.

Fortunately no avenging two-leggeds or flocks of four-leggeds descended from on high, so he plodded on, using his by-now-nearly-numb limbs to creep through the grass and small brush as quietly as possible. It was a lot like the chase he had played with the geese when he was much younger, except now he suspected there was more at stake now than a bit of fun. It seemed to take much, much longer than it ought to have for him to reach the barricaded opening of the four-legged tree cave. Now came the challenging part.

The reptile sized up his foe, pretending not to notice when a cold blast of air whipped around the field, slamming into him with freezing accuracy and making his wings nearly vibrate with the effort to stay warm. All the more reason to hurry this up, he supposed, though he couldn't be too loud about it or the two-leggeds would come running. Nudging at the door for a moment he found that it would open slightly, but not anywhere near enough for him to squeeze through. So merely forcing it open was out of the question…

He then turned his attention to the branch, nudging it to the side and eventually so far off balance that it fell from its hooks. The resounding thud as it crashed to the ground made him jump and cringe, though from the few calls in the confines of the barn, it hadn't been loud enough to arouse any sort of suspicion, yet at any rate.

Emboldened and quickened by the seemingly dropping temperature, the green lizard nudged his way into the barn. And boy oh boy did he almost regret it when he did.

The fluffy white four-leggeds, upon seeing the intruder, set up a loud rancorous baaing in stereo due to the ten of them that were present. They didn't seem rather bright but the racket they were making was making him far too uncomfortable for his liking. Any more noise could bring the two-leggeds to see what the problem was. Darting past the pen, the not-so-small dragon spied a pile of hay at the far end of the barn. Moving far faster than he thought his numb limbs were capable, the reptile dove straight into the warm heap, burrowing down as far as he could until only the faintest hint of green could be seen in the brownish yellow. Still, some part of him could not relax until the baaing and lowing and neighing had finally died down, with blessed quiet taking up a very welcome residence throughout the barn.

That is, until a cow's lowing came from right over the weary yet wired dragon's head. Poking his head up just high enough that he was able to see, he first caught sight of the very familiar brown eyes and longish face staring down at him through a slat in the nearby pen. A moo-maker, it seemed, had gotten curious about the new tenant and wandered over. And, though the very reptilian face had made the creature draw back slightly at first, it inched closer again when she had noticed a lack of response. What was this utterly bizarre thing sitting in their hay?

The dragon, on his part, remained very still, too tense to move and unwilling to try. He allowed the cow to sniff at the top of his head, thick with the smell of plants, dirt, and the forest that he had been staying in. He almost did break that spell when the cow, finally encouraged by his scent and compliance, gave him a testing sort of nudge right on the top of the head with an almost greeting-ish sounding lowing. He was being…accepted?

Even with his surprise floating heavily in his brain, he practically rushed to answer, his own attempts at lowing coming out harsh and strange at first before, after a few tries, he managed to get it to something that at least sounded partially like what he had heard from these particular four-leggeds. He wasn't certain exactly how it had happened, but he eventually fell quietly asleep with what felt like a lick being swiped across his snout.

Also, I feel the need to point this out. What Dragon found himself getting into was a jar of honey from some traders that had come into the town he's currently in. Personally, my brain is saying somewhere in Spain or Portugal, though it's been known to be wrong before. He's definitely not in England at the moment, though.