Wakko trudged through the woods, a large basket of ocean caught fish slung over his shoulder.
He hadn't wanted to cry in front of the others. They'd made fun of him before;he didn't think the other teens had necessarily ever meant to be mean, but the teasing had still made him feel bad.
So he'd properly cried in his workshop in the forge, before putting a new sketchbook and charcoal stick in his hammerspace. Then Wakko had taken a basket of fish from the storehouse; even though it had made him feel a little bad, stealing the food.
Wakko tried his best to justify his actions. Mostly by remembering that Saffo was trapped and couldn't get food, like the tribe could.
He'd also stocked up on snacks for himself, then had set off into the woods towards the cove.
Dot didn't mean it.
Part of Wakko knew that, but he couldn't help feeling hurt regardless. He couldn't help but remember Dot shouting, angrily telling him to stay out of her way…
He needed a distraction. Helping Saffo, and easing his guilt in the process, seemed like a good way to do it.
Several minutes later, Wakko was squeezing through the gap and into the cove.
Wakko walked further in, scanning the cove for Saffo.
From a few feet away, he heard a whuff. Wakko turned and saw the Night Fury languidly stretched out by the wall of the cove, watching him, orange eyes wide.
The dragon still looked somewhat wary, but Wakko thought that there was more curiosity there now.
Depositing the fish basket, Wakko tipped it over. Saffo stalked forward, wings half mantled, each movement infused with a predatory grace. Wakko found himself in awe.
Now that he was fairly sure Saffo had no intention of eating him, Wakko could actually study the dragon with a clear mind.
The Night Fury was magnificent. The black scales had a blue sheen to them, while the dark gray patches on Saffo's face, wingtips and chest had a very faint, silver shimmer in the sunlight.
It struck Wakko once again that Saffo was remarkably sleek, so obviously built for flight.
The thought of flying reminded him of the tail fin. Wakko's eyes went to the dragon's remaining one as Saffo started to lap up fish, one draconic eye remaining locked on him.
Slipping the fresh sketchbook and his charcoal stick out of hammerspace, Wakko circled to the dragon's other side, keeping a respectable distance.
Once he could see Saffo's remaining fin, he tentatively edged slightly closer so he could see better.
Saffo's ears raised. Wakko knew that although he was looking at the fish for the most part now, Saffo knew exactly where he was.
Wakko sat down, braced his notebook against one leg, and started drawing on the parchment with his charcoal stick.
He began to deduce how the fin worked through watching it flex as Saffo moved, roughly drawing it all the while. Wakko made several notes in the process, all in his extremely messy handwriting; which he could read easily, but was a mystery to others.
He idly ate some of the smoked meat he'd brought as a snack while he was at it.
By the time Saffo had concluded his meal, Wakko had already started to doodle up some diagrams for his next invention.
The one that would - hopefully - allow Saffo to fly again…
Wakko licked his lips, the meat having made him thirsty. He tucked his sketchbook safely back into hammerspace and wandered up to the small lake. He went into all fours and lapped up water like a dog.
Saffo had laid down by the empty fish basket. His ears were pricked again, orange eyes wide.
Actually, I'm a little hot too.
So Wakko jumped into the shallows of the lake, still on all fours. He romped through the water and dunked his head a few times, seeing how big a splash he could make.
There was another splash to his left. Wakko looked up and saw that Saffo was now standing in the water. He splashed the water with his forepaws, as though trying to mimic Wakko.
Wakko grinned and splashed around some more; to his surprise, Saffo copied him. Giggling, Wakko splashed again.
One thing led to another, and soon the fifteen year old boy and the dragon were engaged in a splash fight.
Without realizing it, the two ended up gradually closing the distance between them…
Wakko only realized this when he bumped up against something solid and warm.
He turned his head and froze, seeing that he was but a hair's breath from Saffo's scaly chest. Saffo was looking down at him, orange eyes wide.
The two stood there in the shallow water for several seconds, holding each other's gaze. Very tentatively, Wakko lifted a hand and slowly, slowly inched it closer to the base of Saffo's neck.
The Night Fury continued to watch him, unmoving, and unblinking.
Wakko shut his own eyes - for some reason, he thought that was the thing to do - and put his hand to Saffo's neck.
His scales were incredibly warm, like Saffo was a furnace on the inside. His hot breath moved the long fur between Wakko's ears. Then the dragon shifted, pulling back, and Wakko opened his eyes again.
Saffo had somewhat retreated, but still stood a few feet away. He was gazing at Wakko with…something new.
A strange, new kind of understanding?
Wakko gazed back, the dragon chuffing before he padded out of the lake, and he turned his attention to his hand.
Wakko didn't know exactly what had just happened.
He only knew that a connection existed between him and Saffo now.
One he had yet to fully understand.
/
Miles and miles away, Yakko was sitting grumpily on a rock outside the meeting hall.
He had just endured another day of listening to the council of chiefs ramble about things he couldn't care less about.
Well, maybe if I'd been allowed to enter dragon training, I might have been willing to be a bit more cooperative.
It was a big 'maybe,' but still.
Yakko drummed his fingers on his leg, thinking.
Already, he'd managed to get chastised for piping up in the meetings; mostly, by turning up his snarkiness to eleven.
It surely wouldn't take much more to get his father to send him home.
Yakko sniggered to himself, a mischievous grin appearing on his lips.
I just got to push a little harder. Then Dad will give up
He thought he knew exactly how to do it, too.