A huge thank you to  Deriaz for creating this wonderful piece featuring a certain charming Golden Dragon  Arca9t4 who happened to stumble upon a great beast in the woods. It's quite an important scene in the adventures of these two, and having it immortalized in this beautiful pic is such a blessing...
It's a representation of one of the scenes in a good and loooong roleplay we've had, so it's extra cool to see a lil part of it it visualized.
Is this what happens every time when one encounters a werewolf in the wilds? Probably not, but it happened this time! There's a to tell as for what happened between these two, but for now, a small bit of it shall be revealed in the story below. What's more, is that you can also read about this exact story from Ralus' perspective right here!

Make sure to fave the artist's original submission here!

Now... onto the lore...
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Night.

Night is what people fear, as it obscures what they'd prefer to see, even if sometimes it hides things they wouldn't survive seeing.
Night isn't only an external event dictated by the planetary cycle. It's a state of mind where darkness overtakes the senses and allows for something else to roam free. When one's self is shrouded, when consciousness becomes numb, be it due to the dark itself, or the cursed pain that forces it to sleep or break. Then, the real danger is let loose, the thing responsible for the fear of darkness, the thing that claimed too many lives to count. In the absence of the person, the curse reigns, bringing far worse than fear of it ever could.
This was the reality of every werewolf. A victim of a curse that threatens to break and overtake, an imposter invading a body already occupied to make it its own. Fueled by pain, rage, savage urge to hunt and devour, its first prey every night is the mind of the owner, tortured until it's squashed and forced to black out so that it can do what it wants.

He would not let that happen.

In the night, he has to endure. In the night, he has to live. In the night, he has to find his heart. In the night, he has to hunt the thing that wants to be feared, and conquer it. Every. Single. Time.

This night, he has to hunt. He hasn't eaten for weeks. The hunger became a real hindrance, and the forest he just found was plentiful. The moon's pull wasn't as strong due to the waxing crescent phase, it would make the curse crawl out enough to make itself known but not overwhelm him, not enough, not anymore. Tonight, the curse was his prey. He will do as he wants, hunt for himself, run free for himself, feed his own hunger, not the accursed one, again, just like he did countless thousands, if not millions of times before. He will crush what wants to crush him, again force it to serve him, or push into unconsciousness, and this time, he will not back down from fear, no more sitting in a cave to wait out the effects, he's been in this hole for almost a month, it's time to eat.

The forest knew. This night, when he emerged from the confines of rock, nature itself seemed to shudder and hold its breath. Silence all across it spoke louder than any scream could. Birds fled. Insects fled. Their instincts warned them what roamed near, but wouldn't save them, they didn't need to…

He could consume the entire forest. Every single living being in it, siphoned and devoured to fuel his might, but this isn't what he wanted, this is what the curse wanted. For him, a few larger animals would be enough, a moose here, a deer there, some bears perhaps…

However, this night, a familiar stench of civilization was present in the air. Was he found out? Did the hunters finally come to hunt him? Why else would anyone come so far into these woods? On any other night, he'd flee, find another forest to hunt in, but this night, he already made a promise to himself. No fear. No backing down. He will face them if he has to, and remind them what happens when someone tries to interfere with his constant struggle for inner peace…

As the werewolf moved, he made no effort to mask his presence from nature's instincts, allowing the potential prey to run and flee as they wanted so that he could observe, feel the urge to chase, tease the curse with the scent of fear, exactly what made it tick, exactly what made it want to lash out, then not act upon it, allow the urges to starve, feel them writhe and try to torture him on the inside while he thrived off of the satisfaction of them slowly dying. He wouldn't chase, no, this time, he'd let out a call, and let the prey come to him. The strong, the fierce, those who want to prove their strength, and win themselves more than this life could offer. A challenge, where the biggest opponent was not the one answering the call, but himself.

Some answered the call, five of the mightiest bears in these woods, powerful animals who'd trample over any prey here, more than enough to feed his enormous form. He felt them come, right to a convenient clearing that was almost shaped like an arena. He felt their vital energy, their life force, their souls firmly embedded into their forms, and it made his muscles throb in anticipation…

He stood tall, towering over all, and felt the courage of these bears, their desire to earn new lives, the fearlessness that only the mature and wise souls possessed. Such treasures… such a rare opportunity…
There was also someone else in these woods, far away now, but definitely not a member of this society, most likely a hunter who seemed to notice the unusual behaviors his presence caused. Good… Let them come, let them see, as for once, he was ready to show them what it means to challenge him, and leave no traces of it in this world.

The combat started with the bears charging at the werewolf, using their overwhelming weight in an attempt to topple and pin down, only to be met with a strength so absurd that it made them feel like they were struggling against a mountain, and it was only the werewolf's one arm. The charge was halted as the beast was raised into the air and thrown like a mere teddy, crashing into 3 others that wanted to do the same, sending them tumbling like bowling pins, but none were discouraged.

This wasn't a fight between him and them, he knew it, and they knew it. The exertion of those bears, their vitality pulsing in their bodies, their souls flaring with each roar, it was such a tantalizing prospect to his starved senses. Oh, how easily he could utterly dominate those ursine beasts, how unmatched his strength was, how trivial it would be to devour them whole right here and now, how much power he'd gain by taking everything, everything.
No, never everything. Their bodies were food, but their souls yearned for a new life, agreed to throw themselves into the jaws of a beast to achieve it by answering the call, and he'd deliver it.

He made sure that the bears knew how strong he was, that he was worthy of their sacrifice, how a single one of his arms had many, many times more strength than all five of them combined, throwing, lifting, punching, and choking the beasts before the finale came.

Unsheathing his claws that now glowed with an eerie, pale green light, a few swift slashes rendered most of the bears paralyzed, their minds already asleep. One of them attempted a desperate lunge at the towering werewolf, only to end up caught by the neck and lifted into the air as if it were weightless, powerless. The glowing claws stabbed into the neck, not piercing, phasing through and spreading the pale green light across the bear’s whole form, paralyzing it completely. It was now a mere bag of vital power, a chunk of food, one that contained the most delicious of fillings, a living soul so helplessly suspended in his grasp, completely at his mercy…

No, that's what the curse saw, that's what the hunger saw, he saw a being, a living, sapient, mighty being whose courage transcended the fear of death, one that deserved honor and respect, one that he will honour, respect, and reward for its sacrifice. Thus, he forced the cursed urges to shut up, and hearing the last not yet paralyzed bear charge at him, he dropped the paralyzed one, letting it fall like a frozen statue, and with a single swing of an arm thicker than a tree trunk, the charging animal was thrown overhead straight through the thorny wall of bushes.

With the vitality of them all still ringing in his ears, with the urges still clawing at his mind, he slowly approached the struggling animal, and just as he managed to silence them, the bear moved for the last time. The paralyzing claws dug deep in as the hunk of life was raised into the air with one massive arm. Now fully mindful, by his own choice, the floodgates opened alongside with his green glowing jaws, as a wave of vital power poured into them from the bear, making its body shrink and wither, losing everything good it had, strength, durability, endurance, flexibility, swiftness, toughness, the very energy that made its form. Once it was so deprived of vitality that it could no longer sustain life, as it could barely be called skin and bone, the soul fell right out of it, straight into his ravenous jaws, swallowed whole as he kept taking more and more, until there was just a skeleton left, and he kept taking, even the bone density, even their hardness, until even it crumbled into nothing but unidentifiable dust scattered on the wind, leaving no trace of the bear save for a bright, pulsing essence of its being trapped deep within the werewolf's chest, so deep that its light was completely hidden by the darkness of it.

The beast felt none of it, its mind was long asleep due to the paralysis, the soul now slumbering within the werewolf's body, one that just received a huge surge of pure health and strength that fed the starving musculature. It felt like empowering bliss, a balm onto an ache that nagged at him for weeks, a soothing wave of pure vitality that filled every vein, every bone, every organ, every muscle, making them thrive like a blooming flower. Then, as his senses sharpened and re-focused on the surroundings, he sensed something unfamiliar, something he should've heard coming a long time ago, but he was so focused on the bears, he somehow missed it. There was another heartbeat nearby, another breath, another scent, and it didn't belong to an animal.

In less than the blink of an eye, he dashed upwards and hid among the treeline, seamlessly blending with the darkness of the night as he looked over the area from above, spotting someone. A golden-scaled, strongly built anthro dragon with orange hair, blue eyes, and a strange, unfamiliar scent to him, seemingly not equipped with the monster hunter tools he's familiar with, and apparently a bit clumsy too, as in an apparent attempt to run he not only stepped on a twig and snapped it, but also tripped and fell down, how amusing… Was this some kind of newblood recruit sent in for a trial? Was this what werewolf hunters were like nowadays?

Still, if so, at least they displayed an improvement in the physical aspect. His keen eye saw the definition of The Dragon’s arms and the ease of movement displayed with every action, something that doesn’t come without extensive training. He jumped over to a tree right above The Dragon and made his way down, locking eyes with a fallen anthro, already smelling the spike of fear, hearing the blood and vitality rushing through that fit body, sensing the soul flare up as the heart rate increased… He took his time, slowly moving down the tree, observing the young hunter, sniffing the air for silver, and seeing The Dragon's palm light up in living flame…

“One wrong move, and I'll set your pelt ablaze. I-I’m not afraid.”

The voice conveyed fear more than the smell did, to him at least, but he saw an attempt at courage, one that an inexperienced hunter tended to display before gaining the experience to know why fear was warranted. The fact that this one was here alone made little sense, and for as much as he sniffed, it was hard to pick up on silver… Still, it had to be hidden somewhere, but for now, he had a rare opportunity to speak with the aspiring hunter, perhaps learn a thing or two, and convince them that they're after the wrong target.

“Where is the rest of your group?”

He would ask… if his vocal cords worked as they should in this form, but instead of those words, only a wolfish mumbling gibberish came out, which made him groan in annoyance, especially as laughter exploded out of The Dragon's chest.

"Zoinks, Scoob! Did someone put roids in your food?”

Hearing this mockery made him snarl back and lash out at the young hunter to show that he isn't… What's a scoob anyway? What did that sentence even mean? It somehow felt offensive even if he didn’t understand it… Regardless… where is that silver…
After leaning down and again using his special senses to detect the metal, he ended up sensing… nothing. The Dragon seemed to catch on with this as he flipped the pockets inside out and… burnt the vest away? The physique was better than most hunters, one clearly built through practical combat uses rather than pure lifting. The high muscle definition, great confidence, leanness that allowed for agility while maintaining enough mass for power, very good balance and proportions for each body part, including legs clearly proficient in kicking, admirable for sure, but nothing else seemed to match. The personality, the stance, the equipment, the strange fire abilities, none of it was anything like what he remembered hunters having. Was this… was this Dragon not a werewolf hunter? But that could not… It could not be… But The Dragon's next words…

"See, nothing on me! I ain't gonna hurt ya.”

Did he just reveal himself to a civilian? After centuries of isolation… Why did he instantly assume the stench of civilization meant that it's a hunter? This was… this was an innocent adventurer, an eager explorer that had found him, all because for some reason he didn't understand, he decided to, for once, act recklessly… and for what? Being exposed? No, he couldn't… The claws unsheathed, each longer than a knife and sharper than a razor, ready to deliver a kill faster than one might blink, but then he looked into those blue eyes and again saw a person… A person with a life, a young life he'd be prematurely ending… No, he can't…
The claws sheathed.
But he can't get exposed, he can't allow the knowledge of his existence to spread. This Dragon is fit and strong, his vitality would feed him well. There is no need to waste it on a mundane kill. The claws unsheathed, again glowing in pale green as the huge arm rose, but then he saw the person again, not food, not prey, not a walking chunk of vitality for him to take, no, that's what the curse wants… He will have to find a different way to kill him later. Does he want to kill? No… he wants…

He wants…

Sniff sniff

An unfamiliar, sweet, tantalizing scent interrupted his thoughts as something coming off that burning vest caught his attention.

After approaching it, he got down to all fours, and the closer he got, he knew.

He wants that.

So, he began licking and munching on the molten sweet candy bar in the pocket of that vest, one that The Dragon seemed to have forgotten about before tossing it away. The taste was like bliss on his tongue… Wow, what was this? Why is it so weird? Why is it so… chemically tasty? It should be disgusting, and yet that sweetness… it had something in it that made his troubled mind briefly forget about everything else…

"Look alive Scoob, we got company!”

The thought was interrupted as one of the other paralyzed bears began waking up as the effects of his claws waned. Still in fighting mode, enraged, the beast again jumped into combat, as far as its perception, no time passed. He once again felt that shiver of anticipation flow through him, hearing the vitality roar within the large animal, and in a motion faster than an eye could catch, it no longer moved, paralyzed again. Then, it was time to eat. Reaching out with both clawed hands, he felt the health of the four motionless bears, opened his jaws that once again began glowing in pale green, and inhaled, filling himself with the vital energies of all four bears at once rather than air. The four beasts shrunk and withered away in the wind, their souls cleaved off and swallowed whole as he stood there, consuming all their bodies had to offer.

It was a rush, a torrent of strength that massaged every single one of his immense muscles like burning honey flowing through them on the inside, sating their hunger completely and adding more on top, causing a small, but noticeable growth of his form, one he had no need of suppressing. Every muscle pulsed with power, each one pumped with pure life, rippling across the sculpted perfection of his physique as he stood there, allowing it all to settle, ensuring the sleeping souls were safely contained within his broad chest, all the while keeping a very careful ear on The Dragon in case there'd be an attempt at interruption, but there was none.

He had no idea what kind of a show he just gave to The Dragon, how much of an awe-inspiring sight his physique is, how the broad shoulders shifted like a liquid mountain rage, how his mighty pectorals rose and fell with each deep breath like heaving boulders of pure power, how his brick-like 10-pack abs rippled with core strength that'd resist a hurricane like it's a summer breeze, how the legs thicker than a person shivered under an onslaught of empowerment, and most impressive of all, how the oversized arms with a bicep larger than a man's whole torso radiated so much strength it made it seem like bullets would bounce off like glass shards off of reinforced steel. The tricep that highlighted it was like corded pythons snaking under the skin, intertwined along the thick forearms all the way down to the wrists. Everything about this werewolf screamed supernatural power and unmatched strength, yet since he lived with it for so incredibly long, alone, the concept of showing off left his mind long ago, so he remained oblivious to the stunning show that The Dragon was coincidentally allowed to witness.

"You're welcome for the moral support, by the way.”

The Dragon said, all fired up, thinking there'd be epic combat between them and the bears, only now realizing this was never a real fight. It still did make the old werewolf chuckle as he approached with a newly insightful look, kneeling down in front of him to reduce the jarring height difference. Though, despite having heads at a similar level, the size difference couldn't be more obvious, as this Dragon still could fully hide behind the thickness of his upper arm. Who even was this dragon? What was he supposed to do with him now?

“You know what Scoo-Err… Friend? You are alright in my book! Thank you.”

A snarl did escape him again when he was almost insulted again, even if he didn't know what that “Scoob” word meant. Wait, thank you? Why did The Dragon thank him? Wait… Friend? Did that… what… who even… He was very much confused, but now it was clear this was no werewolf hunter, too pure, too joyful, too kind, and weirdly friendly to be one. This finally made him relax somewhat and ask a question that's been on his mind from the start.

“Why does your blood smell so strange?”

Or at least, again, he would've asked if he had functional vocal cords, but instead, more wolfish gibberish came out, making him curse himself internally for forgetting he can't actually talk in this form for a second time…
Luckily, The Dragon seemed to piece the question together anyway from the way he was looking and sniffing.

“Curious about my fire, huh? Most of my species spew it from their maws. But not me.”

With a snap of his fingers, a small flame danced around the dragon's claws, very dimly illuminating their surroundings. The flame was flicked, as it dwindles into a glowing ember, then nothing.

"Runs in the family, you see. Ancient phoenix blood is hereditary. Not just for destruction either. My flames can also heal.”

The werewolf's green eyes shone with fascination as he observed and listened. Phoenix fire? That's the source of the mysterious scent. Not the one he's encountered before, not in this way at least. Then, he felt a stir in his chest. The souls were waking up. Wonder how that Dragon is gonna react to this light show…

As he unhinged the large jaws, which began glowing again, the same with the claws of the right hand, he reached deep into them and pulled out five small blue glowing spectral orbs that settled in his palm, and gradually shaped themselves into the exact forms of the five bears the bodies of which he consumed earlier.

“Your sacrifice is accepted and appreciated. You will be empowered on your journeys beyond, as I am empowered to continue living here thanks to your strength. The nature is ever safer, thanks to your courage.”

He said telepathically to the bears as he loosened the grip on the souls, allowing them to hop around with a little more freedom, dancing in the air like twinkling stars.

“We thank you!”
“Strength prevails!”
“You are worthy! The nature is grateful!”
“Thank you!”
“Thank you!”

Each of the bears called out in their own way, one that wasn't understood by The Dragon. To him, it was likely just little echoing noises, but it still seemed to catch interest, judging by the sheer awe on that golden face.

“Wow… Guess we both learned a little something about each other, huh?”

This made the old werewolf smile a bit, kind of disbelieving that he revealed this ability to a complete stranger, but it doesn't matter in the end because he's going to kill him eventually, so for now, he just allowed The Dragon to witness and drink in the beauty of the moment.

“...I-is it ok to touch?”

Touch? Touch what? Him? The souls? Oh, it's the souls isn’t it… Such a strange request… but he tightened the invisible grip on the souls to bring them back into his hand.

“The dragon wants to touch you. Allow it only if you sense no danger from him, and warn me the instant that you do. You are safe.”

The bear spirits listened to the telepathic message and collectively turned towards The Dragon to do exactly that as he reached with a golden claw. None of the bears moved away when the contact was made, as they sensed no danger. If anything, the presence of the Phoenix blood was soothing to them.

“This one bears no threat.”
“His claws are warm!”
“He feels nice!”

The bears said as they playfully swiped their paws at the golden fingers, which retracted after a few moments as The Dragon couldn't fully process the sensation. He remained still and focused, ready to act in an instant there'd be danger. Never too much caution when it comes to the safety of souls. Luckily, there was no harm to either side.

“This is… incredible stuff. Hard to believe something like this was around my neck of the woods.”

This made him chuckle a little. If only this golden fool knew that seeing all this is going to cost him his life… eventually… once he figures out how…
Still, now came the time for the spirits to move on.

“Come, focus. You shall now receive the reward for your sacrifices, and be granted passage beyond.”

The five bears immediately refocused on the huge werewolf as they heard it in their minds. Then, one claw touched them each, injecting them with a tiny portion of the vitality he siphoned away from their bodies. To a soul without a physical form, even a tiny bit of energy that sustains the physical was a massive boost, and they each gratefully roared out in unison and joyfully flew upwards as the clawed hand rose up, stopped glowing, and released them, allowing the natural passage beyond to happen by itself. He watched carefully as the spirits faded from view, out of his sight, out of this world, exactly where they were supposed to go, stronger than before. It was always a grand moment for him, one that often led to contemplation as he never really saw or knew where they so eagerly went every time…

He looked down at The Dragon too, wondering if the significance or importance of this moment resonated too, or was at all registered. Seems like it did, somewhat, more or less. He read the question before it was even asked…

“Just… what… are you?”

For as much as he wanted to answer, he had to point at his throat and shake his head to again to show that he can't talk. The questioning tilt of the head revealed his contemplation about what to do about it, too…

"Ah, right. The whole 'can't speak' thing. Dang..."

The Dragon then gets an idea, motioning to an empty patch of soft dirt.

"You might not be able to speak, but you clearly understand me, right? Can you write, or even draw?”

He nodded at the question. He did understand everything, of course, then the ears perked up when the idea of writing and drawing came up. How did he not think of this earlier?

Unsheathing the claw on his index finger, he reached out and started writing slowly.
There wasn't much space, and some letters were overlapping. He cleared the writing with his palm and pressed against the dirt to harden it a bit, making it smoother and easier to write on.
Then, eventually, with some struggle, he managed to write the following:

"A werewolf, forging the curse into a blessing”

The Dragon began reading the written words out loud. He would then turn to the werewolf, beginning to piece a little together.

"Well I felt blessed just watching... that whole thing. So you're doing great already, uh...."

A pause, pointing over to the dirt again.

"You got a name, friend? I'd love to hear it.”

A request for his name, huh… Sure, he's already shown his most guarded ability to this complete stranger he'll have to kill anyway… Let him have it, this knowledge will do little beyond anyway. The claws moved again and wrote:

“Derris”

The Dragon's eyes widened, understandably so, an unremarkable name for a towering lycanthrope like him, but it was his, and that's what mattered the most.

"Derris, huh?"

The Dragon stands up tall, glancing his blue eyes up to the werewolf's face, the dragon's own face genuinely beaming.

"Thank you Derris. For saving me from those bears, and the spectacular light show afterwards. Oh, and for not immediately mauling me when we first met. Not sure how Phoenix blood would interact with your whole spirit thing… Name’s Ralus by the way!"


The werewolf then saw a golden hand extended towards him for a handshake, and sensed that pretty much all fear had vanished from that dragon, which was… ironic. Thanking him for something he didn't really do, but it gave him perspective on how little this dragon understood of what happened, and it was important, refreshing, to understand him in turn, and also know how to best… deal with him. Learning the name was strange too, and he already felt it would make it harder to do what needs to be done…
His own large, furred hand extended in turn and returned the gentle handshake as best he could, even though his hand was big enough to envelope most of that golden forearm, too. It was so strange to feel the hand of another like this… it's been so long… so long since…

"Hey, you got a place to stay 'round here? I really need to catch up on sleep, and some of those fleeing animals tore right through my tent..."

This snapped him back into the present moment. Right, sleep… that's something most do at night, he almost forgot…
But this gave him an idea, after all, in his cave, nobody would know or hear anything, and nobody would find them, even if this somehow is a bait. So, he got down on all fours and nodded over to his back, implying to ride him. The offer seemed eagerly accepted.

“Heheh, I'll hold on tight, don't you worry! Ready when you are!”

It truly felt weird to have someone on his back like this… Their near imperceptible weight, the warmth of their touch, the way their muscles rubbed against his, how their hands held onto his mane.. it gave him a brief pause before launching off. Of course, to him, running at near supersonic speed was a norm, but after a moment, he remembered that people aren't usually used to it, so he stopped abruptly on the tree branch and looked up at the… quite a dazed passenger. If the disheveled hair and rolling eyes didn't say enough, the tone of the following words certainly did.

“Urrrrrh… Are… are we there yet?”

The question amused him a bit, but it was also reassuring to see the resilience of that Dragon, as most people's brains would've likely been flipped upside down by now… He continued the rest of the journey at a more manageable speed, one closer to those loud, stinky metal vehicles he observed traveling at.
It took some minutes, but soon they arrived at a large meadow, with many boulders and tree trunks of various sizes lying around, seemingly organized either in order of size, or into an obstacle course, it was almost like a foresty gym! Walking towards its side, there was a certain cave covered by leaves and vines, camouflaged completely, if it wasn't for the two just walking through it, it would be unnoticed.

The cave was nothing remarkable, just a large rocky hole in the ground, and yet quite a cozy one, with more vines and leaves running over its walls.
He walked over to one of the greener spots and lowered himself, implying to get off, also sort of forgetting that people don't usually share his night vision, the cave was completely dark after all, with the only source of light being his green-glowing eyes. That is, until Ralus slid off and lit a palm on fire as a sort of torch, which nicely illuminated both their forms.

“So this is it, huh? Comfy little place for such a big guy like you.”

After stretching the broad shoulders a bit, he looked down at The Dragon, and around the place, as there wasn't really a proper bed anywhere, just one softer spot he made for himself not to sleep on bare rock.
Still, though, it was barely enough space for just his enormous torso, not to mention two people.

Seeing how tired Ralus’ eyes were, he didn't even try asking about if sleep specifically was really needed, or if it was just about shelter.
Walking to the softer spot, he sat down on it, still trying to think of where to put Ralus.
Maybe he should bring some more grass or dirt to make another soft spot? Then it clicked, why bother when he was already bigger than any bed, and his fur was certainly warm enough for both of them?
So, he laid down on his side while supporting the head with the muscled arm, and reaching out to The Dragon with the other invitingly, having absolutely no clue how good this pose made him look, which could also be seen in his pure expression. There were no thoughts or intentions of showing off in his mind, even though it certainly could look like it otherwise with that magnificent bicep just right there…

At this point, though, he saw that the only thing on Ralus' mind was sleep, sleep, and more sleep. The Dragon took the offer and snuggled up into the furred pecs, nuzzling straight into the valley between them, and would then reach for one of the huge arms, and drape it over the golden, cold body, which he allowed despite the confusion this caused.

"Night, Derris... you... hun-"

With that, he felt Rauls slump completely and fall asleep. This was… incredibly unexpected. This obliviously innocent person snuggled up into his huge form like it's the safest thing ever, unaware that sooner or later he'll have to be killed off…

Although, as he laid there, feeling that fit, shirtless, scaly body brimming with mysterious fiery power, that clump of vitality so trustingly cuddled up against him, so eagerly just… being with him… It did something to his stubborn old brain, something he didn't quite understand yet. This soul, this innocent soul in a body clearly built out of passion, lived so fully, so recklessly, so…

It wouldn't be a surprise if someone like that died, but Ralus clearly lived for this long already, alive and more than well. The thought of him ending this… just… didn't sit right with him. He could do it right now, paralyze, sever the soul, consume the body, and nobody would ever know. He'd just run off to a new forest like he did countless times. It was for his security, to ensure that he could safely keep working on his curse, to ensure that he could no longer be a threat to anyone. But this touch, those trusting hands on his chest, that blissful expression on the sleeping face, that tingly warmth of contact he hadn’t felt for literal centuries… it was… it felt so…

Wait… This Ralus, a civilian from this day's age, saw and welcomed him pretty much as soon as he realized that he was not the prey. No words were needed, not even convincing, not even holding back aggressive moves, just… not attacking directly. Was that all it took to gain trust nowadays? Were people so naive? So quick to trust? Or was it just this one… one strangely charming Dragon who found him by pure coincidence… Maybe the world has changed enough that hiding isn't a must anymore… Maybe the killing doesn't have to happen yet… maybe… maybe he can just… maybe he can keep this Dragon around, learn, assess… experience… maybe… he isn't as much… of a threat… even now as his sleepy mind… has that helpless little… no, not helpless, not little, a person who gave trust to someone like him… strong and capable… did Ralus somehow sense his good heart?

That in an ideal world… the two could even be…

friends? What if… what if that world… that world…

…was closer than… than… if people…

if people are so insightful… if what he thought…

was naivety, was actually…

…insight… instinct… maybe…

…maybe…

…maybe he…

…could…

…

…

…

Sleep