As she prowled the woods, stalking those two with steps that would make her mother proud.

She recalled memories, remembering events that led up to her stalking these two.

Remembered how she’d first seen that human, how he’d been far from what she thought.

A monster she thought he was, a monster he turned out not to be.

No, what he was, was a friend. A human friend.

She thought back on those cycles while she sneaked through the woods.

Thought back on the few cycles that she had spent with her human and wooden friend.

She remembered playing with the wooden bear, fighting for food with the human, walking without smelling the scent of that monster’s disinterested persistence in the air.

It was a few cycles of pureness, of joy, of happiness and simple things.

It was a short amount of time that she treasured dearly, even if her friends wouldn’t know it.

She had learned things from those cycles.

Learned how much the wooden bear adored the human.

Learned how much the human adored the wooden bear.

Remembering how envious she had felt, using her envy to force more food out of the human.

Realising him being far too easy to manipulate.

She remembered one day when the human wanted the wooden bear to walk into the fire.

Looking on confusedly as the human seemed delighted that the wooden bear hadn’t.

They were a strange pair.

They were a funny pair.

She had had fun with them, playing and teasing.

She had felt like she had felt with her mother.

At peace.

The human was the stranger of the two though.

Seemingly a creator of wooden beasts.

Having a talent with the weapon called knife.

Using his talent to carve a particular wooden beast that she quickly called the wooden menace.

For when he had first created it, she had tried playing with it, but found that it had run away.

And the human had looked at her disappointingly, like mother would.

And she had felt guilty.

Guilt for disappointing the human. Her friend.

Then the bird had reappeared, teasing her out of reach, being the cause for her guilt.

She had felt angry and frustrated, but the menace not seeming to care, just staring down at her and her two friends.

The human didn’t seem to notice.

She did.

And she hated that stupid bird.

Staring down at her with eyes deeper than even mothers.

She remembered how she would crawl up those trees, prowling like she usually would.

Never managing to hunt that wooden menace.

But not to fear, for she had found something interesting during her hunts.

She had found a walking stone-man.

Using arms instead of legs to go forward.

She had avoided the stone-man though, feeling frightened by him. Not ready to admit that to herself.

And from it, had found even more joy from staying near her two new friends.

Absolutely not because they made her feel safe, she wouldn’t admit that.

But good times like that couldn’t last forever, even for someone like her.

She knew that far too well.

For there came that cycle. Darkness emerging like every other time. She herself lying down in the bussom of the human’s warm body, resting calmly, safely.

Safely until she remembered that she’d smelt them.

A pack of bloody and devilish creatures. Not beasts, but hounds.

Her instincts had kicked in, instincts that were stronger than her mind in times of peril. A thing her mother had told her she’d grow better at controlling.

But her instincts guided her well.

Faster than the wind that flew past her scales, she had pounced into the dark forest. Seeing things that she knew others could not.

She found her prey easily, quickly.

Killing them off one by one. Using paws and claws to slice throats and silence their bloody cries.

A body designed to kill, to murder, to be superior to any other creature of this world.

She stood atop it, the apex predator.

Instincts taught and honed by her mother, skills and tricks passed down to her.

She knew the ins and outs of her body, knew how to use it well.

She knew how easily she could deal with these devilish hounds.

They hadn’t even seen her yet.

Standing atop a mound of dead and smouldering bodies. Smoke coming out of their slit throats.

Then the banging had started.

And she realized that she’d left her two friends.

She wanted to run back, but also needed to deal with these hounds first.

Panic rose as she saw pairs of hounds running off. Trying to deal with them as fast as she could.

Not fast enough.

The banging continued.

Then it stopped.

Then a devilish scream louder than any she’d ever heard echoed out, and she realized they were upon her friends.

She knew how slow the human was, how puny the wooden bear was.

She knew they didn’t stand a chance.

So she ran to them. Ignoring the few strugglers running after her.

Quickly coming back to her friends, seeing the screaming hound on the ground with an axe in its body.

Seeing another running straight for her human friend, jumping for him.

Using brætt líf to fuel power into her body, she used that power for one powerful jump that propelled her straight into the hound.

The impact hurting her, hurting the hound more.

With a quick slice of her paw, the hound was dead. But more were coming.

She spotted two prowling towards the human, but four coming from the woods.

She chose the four hounds.

Quickly jumping from one, then another.

Two left.

A loud screeching came from the human’s direction. Turning to look, she saw her human down on the ground with one hound atop him.

Arm being eaten while his other arm plunged back and forth into the side of the hound.

Another hound crept up on her humans leg, pouncing on it and pulling him down.

She would have none of that.

She ignored the two hounds behind her and focused on helping her human.

Jumping up on the hound’s back, jaws clenching around the nape of its neck and pulling hard.

Crunch, splatter and it was dead underneath her.

She reoriented herself, readying to kill the other hound on her human.

Screaming out in pain instead, her back leg being grabbed by a steaming hot maw.

It pulled her back, and she felt herself lose all feeling in her back leg.

Turning around nimbly, she aimed her mouth at the foul hound.

Then let out a breath of her brætt líf, encasing it in a powerful blast of fire.

She quickly jumped up on three legs, finding the fourth uselessly dangling.

She wanted to help her human.

But found herself face to face with the last hound, her human behind her.

And the hound was tricky, it was smart.

It used her weakness against her.

But it was careless, letting its focus wane for but a second.

Giving her the second she needed to empower herself with brætt líf and jump at the offending hound.

Her maw easily finding purchase in its bared throat, chomping down powerfully as she ripped a piece of it away.

She then didn’t remember what happened next. Not exactly. Memory being foggy, hazy.

She mostly just remembered pain.

Remembered how awfully hot everything was.

Remembered how she didn’t want to die.

She remembered looking at the human.

Remembered staring at him pleadingly.

Calling out to her mother.

Then seeing him throw something at her.

And her world stopped being painful.

Memories grew even hazier from here.

She couldn’t remember much. Couldn’t remember for how long she stayed there, still from shock and the lingering phantom pain.

But eventually, she knew she must have risen.

Memories finally growing clearer.

Seeing her wooden friend lying dead by her side.

Her human drowned in his own blood.

And she remembered crying.

It was hard admitting that to herself. For she was part of a powerful race, a proud race with a culture and history of strength.

But who was she trying to fool, she was alone.

So when she saw what she saw, she acted desperately, shamefully.

Crying, panting, screaming and such.

Pulling and pushing at her two friends’ bodies.

Finding, in her fit of panic, that her human friend was still breathing, barely.

Realising that she could do something, realising she could save her human friend.

Trying to think how.

Remembering that the human had done something to the wooden bear to bring him back to life.

Thinking. Realising.

Breathing brætt líf into the wooden bear, she saw him waking as if from a deep slumber.

Her wooden friend quickly collecting himself, turning to their human friend and using his brætt líf to do something amazing.

Green light flooded the world, miraculously bright, too bright for any mere human’s eyes.

But she could see through. See how the human’s destroyed body mended itself.

Saw how his skin grew from pale to healthy.

Breathing ragged to soft.

Flesh and skin growing up from nothing.

He was given life right in front of her eyes.

And then her wooden friend died. But not really.

And she cried tears of joy, laughing at the wonders of the world.

Laughing at how stupid everything was.

Laughing at the irony of it all.

For she knew something that the human might not know.

Culture and history of her proud race did not allow weakness. Did not allow treachery nor disgrace.

Even if she was alone, she couldn’t leave that behind.

One who saved shall forever serve.

She knew she had saved her human and wooden friend.

They were hers forever.

But they, in turn, had saved her.

Even at the cost of their own lives.

Therefore, she was theirs.

So now, they were bound. Bound by bonds stronger than anything mortal.

She had a forever debt with these two friends.

And for a dragon such as her.

Forever was a long time.