Growth

The little griffon was crying, give me a manticore to fight hell I´ll even wrestle those freaking timber wolves that chased me of a cliff! I´ll even do it wearing a tutu, I´ll face anything you throw at me just not crying babies! It´s like kryptonite to me!

And when I tried to pick it up the little rascal bit my little pinkie finger and the top of my ringfinger on my right hand clean off. Leaving half of it as a stump, yes it hurt like hell but still endured it for the sake of not upsetting it more than I already had. Well as good as I could anyway, I might have jumped around a little and rolled on the ground and tried not to think about it, earning me a little giggle from it... for ten seconds.

Well, given how I looked I can´t blame it to be frightened of me, I looked like one of those sterotypical homeless guys from the comicbook world.

My brown hair were greasy and passed my shoulders and since I had no means of shaving my beard I to had grown so long that I looked like Hagrid form Harry Potter, not that I´m complaining about having a beard, beards are cool and so I had taken the opurtunity to braid it a little which in my opinion made me look like a badass viking! Unfortunally badass vikings scare little children...obviously.

One other thing that is always bound to happen on when your in the Everfree is being attacked by a manticore, luckily for me it was a small one this time, it was about my own size in mass. And it was easy to dispose of: sidestep and punch its face in. That earned me a warm pelt to ward of the cold nights not to meantion in the winter. Not that i did a good job in skinning the bastard seeing as it´s easely tatered and was begining to smell.

To sum up my appearance: I looked like a red,brown and yellow, homless dandelion viking. Sounds silly? Well it beats being an icicle.

"WhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo?!" Like I said kryptonite.

I tried everything I could think off: baby talk, silly faces, peek-a-boo to name a few off them... Every. Single. One I tried to make it calm down just made it worse.

I was just about to give up when I got an idea... well two actually but thats beside the point.

I looked around the glade scaning the few scatered supplies on the ground there was a broken lute, some scorched rope aaaand... aha! I found what I was looking for and brought it back to the little griffon. then I conjured a nyckelharpa.

The funny thing about my magic? It is wired to anything realtive to music I don´t why but it is. Meaning that I can conjure any kind of instrument even an imaginary one with a thought but not clothes to keep me warm during winter or a razor for that matter, it also gives me a permanent knowledge of how to play anykind of instrument. I can even sing multiple parts of a song simultaneous. Which have been my only joy these past four years being all alone in the wild and not to meantion that I´ve been reccently plauged by homesickness.

Anyway I started playing the instrument. And to my suprise it worked, well almost it started crying direcly as I stoped playing. The crying wasn´t annoying per say but it was heart wrenching and I felt the buildup behind my own eyes.

But I haven´t given up yet! "Okij, time for plan B" I said out loud as I grabbed and held the supplysack I had collected over my head "this better work as well as it did for Pinkie" and ripped it in two causing whatever that was in the sack fall on my head, unfortunally it wasn´t flour as I had hoped but lemons, MOLDY LEMONS! All which hit my head with a tuka-tuka-tuka-tuka-tuka-tuk...squish. And apparently a rotten tomato in the bottom. "The hell?"

I held my breath, and had my eyes closed waiting for the little griffon to start crying again. It never came, instead that heart wrenching sound that could possibly turn Pinkies mane straight in record time, came the most wonderfull sound one will ever hear in his or hers lifetime: the sound of a babys laughter! "Mission accomplished" I thought with a smile.

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After finally managing to calm the little griffon down I proceded to lift it out of the wagon to check its gender. I can´t call it "it"
all the time now could I? This time when I picked it up it only chewed on the side of my hand a little, nothing that really hurt.

Wellp, it´s a she. I think its a she anyway, it´s really hard to tell! It would be so much easier if the male griffons had balls! Then I could be 100% sure that this were a female. Lets call "it" "her" for the time being.

"Alrighty then" I said with my best Ace Ventura voice getting a giggle from the little one as I swept her into the blankets I had foud her in "You wait here for a bit okij?" she just tillted her head and looked at me, how does something go from heart wrenching to puppy-adorableness in a nanosecond?

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Alright lets check the to do list: calm the baby? check. Make graves for the parents? no check. Search the wagon for usfull stuff? no check. Make badass hat out of the dragons skull? no check, wait scratch that it´s probably to big anyway!

Lets begin with scaveging for digging equippment.

No usefull tool at all! Nothing! After going through every notch of the wagon and the scattered suplies I had found nothing that could be used to dig the planed graves.

I looked to the bodies. I had placed the bodies of the griffons next to each other near the place I had choosen for their graves, I had not bothered moving the dragon since it was to large. The griffons claymore still in its chest.

I walked up to the dead dragon and around it. I stoped at the tip of its tail, it was spade-shaped and thin enough for me to grapple. My gaze whent from the tail to the sword and back again and the idea was formed.

I climed up onto the belly of the beast and pulled out the sword followed by a sound not unfamiliar to someone geting their boot out of deep muck. Wasting no time I went back to the tail, chopped it of and went to the digging spot and started digging. "damn this is awkward" I whined through my teeth.

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When layed the finishing touches on the graves the sun was on its way down painting the sky orange.

I went back to the little griffon only to find her sleeping in her blankets. I sat down beside her and patted her on her head making her make a little chirp, which made me smiled.

My gaze then went to the graves of her parents and then back to the sleeping griffon and that was all it took for me to reach a very serious decision as I picked her up in her blankets and went to sleep in the now dark wagon as the flames had died out.

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Early the next day I gathered up some things that I thought would be usefull in the future: The claymore which I´m named "Dragonheart" with its holster, a book that looked like a diary that I could not read, a feather from both of griffon parents and a satchel with stale bread in it.

I put the book in the satchel and threw both it and the sword over my shoulder. I then went to pick up the still sleeping griffon with blankets and all.I named her Saga.

Then I went into the forest once more.