The Downed Dragon
He awoke for a fifth time. Light from the sun filtered down through the trees, bathing the grassy area in dappled golden splotches. Birds sang from above, waking the whole forest with their music.
It wasn’t the kind of music he liked, though. He liked… different music. He couldn’t remember what the differences between bird song and his old song was, but it sounded better. He could remember a different voice, a softer voice compared to the shrill shriek of birds. The voice held a tree stump in his hands with thin leaf-stems made of a hard, shiny material. When his paw flicked a leaf-stem, it made a noise.
He liked that noise. He liked the voice, too.
What had they been doing? He remembered his own paws flicking across his own tree stump, but much smaller and more brightly colored. He and the voice sang together, each flicking their leaf-stem tree stumps and creating a beautiful harmony.
His head was on its side, and he forced it to roll over. He forced his eyes open.
The pain was still too much. He needed to get out of here. Sharptooth would not appreciate him staying here, doing nothing, and neither would Rivereye. But, he couldn’t move. His grassy, tight, uncomfortable entrapment was still there, keeping his legs pressed firmly to his body. One of his wings was free, but he couldn’t move it much.
Help! He cried out. I’m trapped! Someone help me!
His pleas echoed through the forest. But no one came to him.
He’d just need to keep trying. He yelled out once more, his voice strained and weak.
Someone help me…
The first thing Connie took note of was the fact that it was morning. Her face was lying directly under a sunbeam, and the light from above forced her eyes open, temporarily blinding her before her hand could come up to shield the light away.
The second thing she was aware of was the dull pain in her back. Turns out, this spot wasn’t as flat as she’d thought it was the previous night. Oh, well. That’s nothing a good walk-off couldn’t fix.
Lastly, the forest was loud.
Birds and squirrels yelled at each other overhead, some in pleasant greeting, others probably in offense or anger. There was another noise, too, one that didn’t seem like it really belonged. It was a low sound, weaker than the birds but loud nonetheless. If Connie didn’t know any better, she’d say it was a cry of pain, but she wasn’t fully aware of what could be making that noise.
It only took a few seconds for the events of last night to catch up with her, though.
Her eyes shot open. Scrambling to her side, the teen rocketed into an upright position. She peered over her rock and down at the clearing below.
Somehow, by some miracle, the Night Snatcher was still there. It hadn’t moved at all, not really. The biggest movements it had made was the flapping of its one free wing against the dirt pile, the small swings of its tail, and its head, which was now lifted skyward. The dragon let out a low cry, sounding something akin to a howling wolf, but deeper and more scratchy. It didn’t sound like it belonged in these woods at all, and made the creature seem even more out of place than it already was.
It was right here, unable to go anywhere, and by the looks of it, unable to attack. That meant Connie could go forth with a little less caution that usual! For compensation, though, she decided to constantly have her guard up in case it made a sudden move.
She reached for her phone, hoping to take a picture, but stopped short when she realized the phone was completely unresponsive. When she tapped the power to turn it on, it just showed static, harsh white noise playing back at her. Connie tilted her head to the side, deciding to try turning it off and back on again. No result- the static was still there.
Besides, her parents saw all of her pictures (or so they said, but she didn’t really want to test that statement right now), and they’d probably be a bit interested in how she’d met a Night Snatcher. It would be much better to not take a photo until she had a camera separate from her phone anyways.
Instead, she pulled out her notebook and began a sketch. Her art skills were not great- not by a long shot- but it was enough to just get the basic idea of what the dragon looked like. She made side notes as well, labeling its dorsal fins, its hip wings, its spines, its wings, the five horns that framed its face, its long neck, and anything else she found interesting. It was difficult since it was bunched up in a net and squirming, and it took her a while to map out correctly.
It continued to cry out as she worked. It was frustrating, since she couldn’t see the whole dragon nor its gem, but she wanted to finish her sketch before she approached in case something happened. She wanted as much info as she could get.
It took her about twenty minutes to finally be satisfied with her work enough to close the notebook. Now, it was time for some answers. She put her notebook back in her backpack, zipped it up, and slung it over her shoulder.
Step 1: Approach.
Connie crawled off her sleeping bag, her back crying out in protest. She let her feet dangle over the outcropping, then slid off. She landed on the sloping hill, which had been less than a foot down from where she’d been at, and began to make her way down.
Step 2: Let the dragon know you’re not a threat.
It seemed very content to shout to the world, and hadn’t noticed Connie yet. She was now on flat land, and getting steadily closer. If she got too close before it noticed her, she could startle it. She stopped, giving it a wave. She went big, practically swinging her arm over her head as she tried to get its attention.
It saw her. Its head turned to face her quickly.
They locked eyes.
The dragon’s were pitch black where the whites should have been, the light from the morning sun reflecting off of them almost beautifully. Its pupils were a dazzlingly bright pink, and if Connie didn’t know any better, she’d say they were glow-in-the-dark. They were shaped to be thin slits, reminding her of a frightened or angry cat.
The dragon’s bellowing ceased, and its movements stilled. It took what felt like a whole minute for it to even blink (though in real time, it may have been ten seconds? Still a long time). Connie felt herself reacting similarly. Her body was frozen as she stared the beast down.
The beast was a very dark magenta color, with lighter shades of pink on the skin between fingers on its wings. Its claws and horns were a grey color, but also tinted pink. There didn’t appear to be any corruption spots on it, which was odd, but not unheard of.
As the two stared at each other, Connie could also begin to see smaller details; the crack in its left horn, the cut on its cheek, the scratches all down its left side. It must have had a rough landing, Connie realized, remembering the broken branches flayed out across the ground not too far from here.
The dragon blinked twice, seemingly falling out of its stupor, before it whined at her. It looked at itself, thumping its tail on the ground and shifting a bit in its bindings. It then looked back at her, silently pleading with her.
Release me, the dragon seemed to say.
And just like that, Connie’s heart began to burn with rage.
“No. No! I don’t wanna help you!” She scolded it. Its eyes went wider as its ears fell back against its head. It whined at her again, but she raised a hand to it. “No, be quiet! I want answers, dragon. You don’t deserve to be helped.” You stole Steven away.
It looked like the dragon had been slapped in the face. It looked at Connie, eyes still wide, before the lids closed to half-lidded, and it loosened up. Its gaze drifted to the ground, and it laid its head back down, defeated.
Connie huffed. “That’s what I thought.” She took a deep breath, calming herself. She needed to be in a good state of mind for this. If she were mad, then she could become biased, or miss something important. She tended to focus on the negative while mad, and that wasn’t going to help her get the answers she was looking for.
She walked closer, confident this dragon wasn’t going to attack her. In fact, it looked like it was resigned. It wasn’t going to attack her anytime soon. So, she sat down just outside its head’s radius, crossing her legs. She sat up tall, confident. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this confident.
“So,” she began, taking off her bag to get her notebook again, “you’re the Night Snatcher, huh?”
The dragon didn’t reply, but instead looked up at her with those… weird eyes. They were shaped almost symmetrically, and they looked like they had sharper edges than a cat’s eye. Connie would even go as far as to call them a textbook diamond shape. They dilated a bit smaller than they had been before.
Connie tapped her pencil against the notebook’s side, sighing. “Well, you do look exactly like Pearl said you would. I was just expecting you to be more… dangerous.”
At the word “Pearl,” the dragon’s ears lifted a bit. Connie raised a brow at that, jotting down a note for later.
Potentially knows Pearl or has a connection to the word.
“So you know Pearl, then?”
The dragon blinked at her, and offered no other confirmation. Connie decided not to write down anything new after that.
Her eyebrows began to draw together. “Do you understand English at all?”
The dragon cocked its head to the side a bit, but after that offered nothing else of any use. Its eyes drifted to look at something else other than the angry human interrogating it.
Connie growled. “Fine. If you can’t understand English, then we’ll have to just figure out some way to talk, yeah? ‘Cuz I’m NOT leaving until I know what exactly you did to Steven Universe that night.” She leaned forward a bit, giving the beast a cold glare.
The dragon’s focus snapped back to Connie. It lifted its head again, becoming eye level with her. If Connie knew any better, she’d say that it seemed like the beast was looking at an old friend, or something akin to it. A realization of something crossed its face. It leaned forward, craning its neck to give her a sniff. The look on its face became more exaggerated, and its eyes went wide.
Connie leaned away from the beast again, her expression morphing into one of distrust and wariness. Why was it suddenly acting like they were pals or something? “What are you doing?” Connie growled at it. “No! Get back!” She waved her notebook at it, smacking it on the nose.
The dragon’s head shot straight up. Connie realized a little too late that she may have just made a mistake. She shielded herself with her arms, squeezing her eyes shut and looking away.
But, an attack never came. She slowly opened one eye, gazing at the dragon again.
It hadn’t moved. Its neck was still high in the air, looking almost guilty. It reminded the girl of the dragon she and Steven had met that one time, how it had reared its head back to get a better look at the two children. Connie thought it had been poised to attack, but then it never did. That was right before Steven, being the lovable, trusting, huggable idiot he was, decided to befriend the beast.
This dragon was doing the same thing.
At once, Connie’s unease slipped away. Well, for the most part. She relaxed, and rolled over a bit so that she was fully facing the beast. She was leaving herself exposed. If the dragon wanted to attack her, it now had every chance to do so.
But it didn’t. Instead, it tilted its head to the side, letting out a strained sound akin to a mewl. Its eyes softened, and its head came down just a little bit.
I mean no harm.
Connie sat up again, then shifted into a standing position. She took a few, cautious steps closer, to which the dragon shifted away from her just a tiny bit. She extended a hand, noticing and hating the fact that she was shaking. The dragon blinked at her again, and seemed to realize what she was doing. It brought its head a little closer.
It’s okay, Connie thought to herself. They only attack when they have a reason to. The only reason it might is because it’s caught, but it would have done so by now. Even so, she could feel herself tense up and begin to sweat. It’s okay, she practically yelled at herself. It’s okay.
When Connie didn’t shift away, it let her touch it.
Its cheek was rough and scaly, but surprisingly warm. There was dried blood on its left cheek, flowing from the scratches there. Connie took the opportunity to wipe the trails away. Its cheek horns were smooth and sharp, but not as sharp as she was expecting them to be. They were almost round at the tips. Its breath was hot and wheezing.
Connie’s distrust started to fall away. She brought both hands up to the beast, stroking a surprisingly soft ear. “It wasn’t you, was it?” She murmured. “You never hurt him at all.”
The dragon whimpered. It shut its eyes, looking away from her. Was it guilty? Upset? Did it matter? She wasn’t sure. It pulled its head from her grasp, trying to twist its head towards its body. The whimpering continued, getting more intense each time. It began rubbing its cheek against itself, hissing in pain as it touched its wing.
Connie realized what it was doing.
She reached for her bag again, quickly digging out a small knife. It was a survival knife, made specifically for situations just like this. She took it and began to quickly slice through the netting binding it in place. The knife cut through cleanly, and it only took three cuts before there was enough wiggle room for the dragon to fully open its wing and extend its left forearm.
It began clawing at the ground, groaning and growling in pain as it jostled. It hoisted itself up, and the rest of the net fell away.
The dragon was free.
At full height, it reached up a bit less than twice Connie’s height. Its wings could stretch even farther than that. It stood on shaky legs, and fumbled for a moment before standing taller.
Connie backed up a bit on instinct. Idiot! It was free now! What if it had just been trying to play to her emotions? It could now attack her if it wanted! Would it? Was it just being nice before?
Was this how it had managed to kill Steven?
When the dragon looked at her, she backed up, frowning as that last venomous, dark thought crept into her mind. Could it be true? If that was the case, then she was in a lot of danger. She didn’t know how to fight!
She should have waited to catch it. She should have spent more time perfecting her net, which was still up on the hill! That would have given her more of a chance to convince her parents to sword fight, so now she would have a defense. But nope! Now she might die. Good job, Connie, Steven would be so proud!
She held the knife out in front of her, vowing to not go down without a fight. She was going to run back towards Funland and get help. The dragon was still injured (unless it had been faking), and so would probably follow at a slower pace.
The dragon’s eyes went wider at the sight of the weapon. It let out a confused sound, then took a few steps away from her. It lifted a paw up, poised to dart away. The pose reminded Connie of a deer, frozen and watching for a sign that it needed to run.
It still wasn’t going to attack her. She looked at the knife, too. It shone in the sunlight, the blade growing steadily brighter and dimmer as the leaves overhead played with the lighting. She lowered it a bit, then fully. She sighed in defeat.
“You know, you are really good at playing the victim, dragon,” she muttered. “One might think you’re innocent.”
Once again, the dragon only cocked its head to the side as an answer.
It then turned and began to lick its injured wing. It opened the joint to make it easier to reach, and Connie noted with horror that it appeared to be broken. Her eyes drifted down the rest of its side. Sure enough, its left hip wing also had tears in it, and- oh jeez!
It’s entire left dorsal wing was gone!
Connie ran to it, hoping she was mistaken. But, upon getting closer, it was only more clear how messed up the base of its tail now was.
Only most of the tail wing was gone, with the first “finger” broken off almost entirely. Blood was spattered along the entire length of tail starting about a foot and a half from the tip, and its right tail wing was also damaged, just not nearly as badly as the left. At least the right was still functional. And there.
She looked back up towards it’s face. It was still licking its broken wing, wincing in pain every time its tongue crossed over the section of bone that had been fractured. It didn’t seem to be doing anything, though, which made Connie’s heart pull in sympathy.
I did this, she thought. I hurt it.
“Hold on,” she told it in a soft tone. It paused its self-care, looking up at her for a moment. “I’m going to try and find a way to help you. You sit tight, okay?”
The dragon made a humming noise, and Connie took that as acknowledgement. She rushed back over to her backpack, digging through it in search of a med kit, only to come to the realization she’d left that at the house since she was out of bandages and needed a refill. No matter. Nature was equipped with all sorts of healing items, so Connie only needed to find the correct tools.
She scrambled away into the trees, searching for anything of use.
She came back about five minutes later with her arms filled with mosses, berries, and an assortment of flowers. She’d already made sure there were no bugs in any of this stuff, and even if there were, she didn’t think this creature would be too worried about that.
The beast stopped its licking to watch her curiously as she dumped everything on the ground. She could only hope she remembered everything correctly.
“Okay, I got moss and chamomile to stop the bleeding and infections,” she told it, not caring if it could understand her, “echinacea to start healing the wounds, poppy seeds to try and stop the pain, and I found a bush of strawberries nearby and I thought you might like them.” She quickly reached for the moss, holding it up to the now-openly-bleeding tail to try and stop the bleeding again. The beast’s licking it may have reopened it, or its moving around did.
She quickly made sure the tail was coated in healing, herbal medicine before moving up towards the broken wing. There wasn’t much she could do for a wound that severe besides make sure it wouldn’t get infected.
As she worked on the wing now, the beast watched her carefully. It seemed to have no guard, which was odd for a dragon. She gave it a side-long look, then sighed. “I don’t get it,” she murmured.
The dragon coo’d in response, waiting for her to continue.
“I just… everyone said that you’d be so mean,” she continued. “You were unpredictable. You attack everything- or nothing- in battle, you’re a menace, and- and you took Steven away.” Connie blinked, realizing a bit too late that her emotions were beginning to swell in her eyes. “So I came here, because Steven and I realized that you don’t attack for no reason. Nothing does. But you attacked him, so I…” she reached for the chamomile, setting the moss down. “I just want to know. Were you there that night? What happened? Like, what really happened?” She looked up at it, her eyes watering and dangerously on the verge of crying.
It wasn’t fair. This would have been so much easier if this dumb dragon had been as mean and vile as everyone said. But it wasn’t. That was the problem.
The dragon opened its mouth, as if trying to answer her, but it seemed to be just as lost for words as she was now. It looked away in shame.
Connie frowned slightly. “Was it you?”
The dragon’s head dipped beneath Connie’s eye level.
Connie’s frown deepened. “Was it you, beast?” She repeated.
The dragon whimpered under her glare.
“I… can’t believe it.” Connie moved her hand away from the dragon’s wing, not sure she wanted to continue to heal it. She brought her hands up to her head, clutching at her hair. “RAH! I don’t get it! Did you kill Steven or NOT?!”
The dragon once again shifted away from her, its ears falling flat against it’s head and expression flinching. The teen could practically feel the fear and anxiety radiating off of it. But, after a moment of nothingness, the beast’s expression morphed into one of confusion. It looked down its own nose, seemingly lost in thought.
Everything about this dragon existed to make Connie frustrated. She growled to herself, but decided that the least she could do was fix its wing. “Innocent until proven guilty,” she muttered to herself. She lost herself in her work again, just trying to make up for the damage to the beast’s wing as best that she could.
It was strange. The human continued to get mad, then sad, then nervous, then mad, over and over again. Was it something he did? If so, then he wouldn’t be surprised. He tended to make everyone mad at him. It was kind of a nasty habit.
Still, he wasn’t sure why she was being… so nice to him? She freed him from the grass-cage, she tried to Heal his tail, and now she was Healing his wing. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to do that, that it would make her feel better to just yell at him and walk away and he wouldn’t mind, but his selfishness wouldn’t let him do that. He liked that she had stayed.
There was something familiar about her. He couldn’t place it, but he liked having her around, even if she was mad-sad at him. It was awfully familiar, uncomfortably so, but she was the first person to show him Kindness in a long, long time.
Normally, other beasts and humans alike would run from him, or try to Hurt him (as was reasonable). But, there was something different about her. She smelled of familiarity, of smiles and joy. She smelled like a time long forgotten to him. But, he couldn’t place it. Was it that weird part of his memories that never seemed to come to him right? Was that where she was hidden?
Or maybe this was all a trick. Maybe she was going to Hurt him. Maybe the Healing was just a way of gaining his trust so she could destroy him without him fighting back. He hated feeling the unknown of all that.
Every time she looked at him, he shrunk under her gaze. Her eyes were angry, and scared, and Hurt, and yet, she didn’t Hurt him back. She Healed him. Why?
What would Sharptooth and Rivereye do if they saw him like this?
It didn’t matter now. He wasn’t going to be able to fly for a long time, more than likely. Moving his wing too much made Pain. He couldn’t even feel his tail. He was grounded…
Steven Universe. Something about those noises stuck with him. He’d heard them before, but they were locked away in the parts of his memory he couldn’t reach anymore, the part he only saw flashes of in nightmares and in loose thoughts. Those noises made sense to him, at one point. What did they mean? Did they have meaning? He assumed they did, else they wouldn’t have left this big an impact on him.
The human finished working on his wing, then bent down to pick up a Red Sweet. She offered it to him, cautious and ready to run away if she had to.
“Here. I know you’re a Gem and Gems probably don’t eat anything, but I thought you might like them anyways. I-I’ve seen other dragons eat before, so...” She held more Red Sweets in her other paw, offering them to him. He didn’t understand what she’d said (though the sounds of “Gem” sounded familiar, too), but got from the tone of her voice that she didn’t want to Hurt him. She was kindly offering him food. Well, he was hungry.
He coo’d at her in thanks, then licked them out of her hand. She giggled, “eww”ing and waving her hands around once the berries were gone and sticking out her own tongue. He found himself liking the sound of her laugh. It was familiar, too. Why was everything about her so familiar?
So safe?
So… comforting, even if she had yelled at him every few moments. It felt nice to be around her.
Against his better judgement, he found himself trusting her.
Maybe she could Help him unlock his memories? She was so familiar to him, if only he could just put a paw on why!
He leaned forward, nudging her playfully in the side. Her laughter quieted, but didn’t stop for another few seconds. She then reached out to stroke his ear again, and he found himself purring against her.
“Okay, beastie. I really, really don’t understand you,” she chirped at him, “but you’re off the hook for now. Innocent until proven guilty, you know?” She booped his nose, to which he huffed in fake annoyance at her. She sounded so nice… that was the nicest she’d sounded this whole time! Maybe things would get better? Maybe he could Fix her, or at least his relationship with her. They’d only just met, but they’d already gotten off on the wrong paw. Maybe if he hadn’t been stupid enough to get caught by that cage, she’d be less mad at him right now. So, the fact that she was already starting to be nice was good! Meant that he hadn’t completely lost his edge!
His entire left side still Hurt. That was the biggest thing right now. When he took a step forward, he fell a bit, and when he walked, he limped. The human continued to chirp at him, seemingly less tense now, and she half followed him around the area.
He felt the fog and anxiety in his mind lift a bit. He was Hurt, and he was down for a while, but maybe he could fly again. If the human was willing to keep Healing him, maybe even soon, too. He felt his lips part in an awkward expression, but one that felt nice. A smile, his mind supplied from somewhere.
He’d never done that before.
Connie watched with mild amusement as the dragon started practically prancing around the clearing. There was an obvious limp to its step, but the dragon didn’t seem to care. It’s odd eyes dilated in delight, and Connie noted that they were, in fact, shaped like diamonds. A bit odd, but she’s seen weirder from corrupted gems before.
Its mouth opened up and the edges of its lips curved upwards into what looked like the shadow of a smile as it met her gaze. It stopped moving, lifting its injured leg up and down a couple of times to really test it out. The dragon winced, but the smile didn’t fade.
She wondered why. How did the beast even know how to smile? She’d never seen a dragon do that before.
Suddenly, her phone started buzzing off the hook. Pings from different apps started screaming at her, most notably her texting app. Connie jumped at the noise, then rushed to find her phone and dig it out of her pocket.
The dragon’s expression finally fell back into it’s neutral look, leaning more towards curiosity now. It ambled towards her slowly with its ears facing forward, reminding her briefly of a cat or rabbit. The beast made a low noise that lifted up in the end, making it sound like it just asked a question. She supposed maybe it did.
When she got her phone out and had stopped panicking enough to turn it on, Connie’s face fell at the sheer number of texts from her mom and dad. Apparently, she was grounded for a long while if she didn’t reply fast, and she’d better have a good explanation for being out so late.
“Uh oh,” Connie mumbled to herself.
The dragon’s head was suddenly over her shoulder, looking at the phone as well. She doubted it could make heads or tails of the thing, but she lifted it closer to the beast so it could have a better look. It blinked, then turned to her questioningly.
“My parents are looking for me,” Connie informed it. “I gotta go now.” She pocketed the thing so that she could go pack up. Her bag was on her back, so she just needed to climb up to her resting spot again and grab her sleeping bag, as well as anything else she’d left up there.
As she did so, the dragon watched her. Its head tilted to the side again, its ears falling around its head as gravity took over. Connie paused to look at it for a moment, and as she did, it laid down, never taking its eyes off of her.
That time, it reminded her of a dog.
“Oh, um, sorry, you can’t come with me,” Connie told it. “Everyone back home would absolutely try to poof you if they saw you. Everyone thinks you’re the Night Snatcher, remember?”
The dragon blinked at her, otherwise still unmoving.
Connie looked back at her work, zipping up the bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I tried to help you the best I can. Now get out of here, and don’t go near town. They’ll hurt you.”
The dragon’s eyes widened just a little bit, and its head straightened back out.
Connie slid from the rock the same way she’d done so earlier, and the dragon took the opportunity to approach. It began to sniff at her bag, and although Connie stiffened, she let it.
What would happen now? The Night Snatcher was either playing nice, innocent, or she had the wrong dragon. She wasn’t any closer to finding Steven, nor to getting answers- in fact, she may have been shoved even farther from the truth! This seemingly innocent dragon was now wounded, more than likely grounded, and completely exposed on the ground. If this was an innocent dragon, then were was the real Night Snatcher? Was it still out there, or did someone poof it a long time ago?
And what about this dragon? It seemed to recognize certain words, and definitely perked up when she’d said Steven’s name, so it must know something. She can’t just leave it here!
…Can she?
She looked up at the beast. It was giving her a wide-eyed look, waiting for her next move. It was sat down on its haunches, exposing its chest to the world. No gem there, either. It tilted its head, cooing softly.
Connie looked past it, at the net laying on the ground.
She might get grounded for not responding right away, but she didn’t care. Getting Steven back was far more important than whatever short-term punishment they were going to give her.
She walked over to the net and began to cut and tie it, creating a long leash in about ten minutes. She wrapped the base around a thick-looking tree, and tied the other end around the dragon’s ankle on the right side. It didn’t fight her while she did that, which she found surprising, and decided to write that down when she got home. She had a lot of stuff she needed to write down.
“Okay, beastie,” she started, finishing off her triple knot, “I need you in order to find out more about what happened to Steven. You are going to stay here.” She looked it in the eyes and gave it the Mom Point, waving a finger at it like she’d seen her own mom do so many times to her. “Plus, I can’t trust you not to follow me back to town. Trust me- leashing you here will work out for both of us.”
The dragon made a soft whine, but didn’t do anything else to protest. Instead, it just laid its head down, sighing deeply.
Connie found herself almost sorry for it.
But, she could save the pity parties for after she proved that she’d shot down an innocent dragon. For now, she pulled out her phone and frantically began to call her mom, but began to panic again once the ringing cut off after two rings. She’d lost signal again.
“I gotta go,” she murmured, not sure if she was talking to herself or the dragon. “I’ll see you later.”
With that, the human ran off, phone to her ear as she hoped beyond all hope her mom would be able to speak to her soon.