How to Train Your Dragon: The Pony Edition

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6

Chapter 1

Within the Everfree Forest not too far from the town of Ponyville, an egg stood still.

It was enjoying his nap among his bed of grass in the shade of the trees next to the river where the sound of the water's ever constant flow soothed it in it's deep slumber. It was rather large, red in color with black shadows swirling all over it. Sometimes a creature or two would investigate the strange looking rock. Many predators tried eating it but found the shell to be as hard as stone so they left it. And so the egg waited for it's master to claim it as it had for over a thousand years. "Maybe today will be different" it wondered.

A white bunny hopped forward. It sniffed the red and black rock curiously. "Are you my master?" the egg asked. The bunny jumped back in fright looking for the source of the voice. "Don't be afraid. I can't hurt you." the egg said. The bunny didn't calm down. It hopped off, frightened out of it's mind. "No! Wait!" the egg shouted. This made the frightened bunny hop faster. No today wasn't different at all. Just another scared creature that ran away at the sound of a voice without a body. To the suprise of the egg another voice made itself heard.

"Oh, Angel! I wasn't expecting you back so soon! Did you - Hey! Where are you going so fast? Is something there?!?!? Is some pony there?" the voice called out. "Eeeek!" This unknown voice squeeked as terrified as the bunny.

"No just me." the egg said.

"Wh, Who are y, y, you?" the voice asked.

"I don't have a name." came the egg's responce.

"You don't have a name?" the voice asked. "Yeah." the egg had already answered that question. Why did this voice just ask it again?

"Wh, wh, where are you?"

"Just follow my voice and I'll show you."

"Um, ok."

"You just need to come up a few more feet."

"Ok" the voice was now barely above a whisper.

The voice belonged to . . . her . . . a beautiful pale yellow Pegasus Pony with a long flowing tail and mane of bright pink, bright blue eyes, and three pink butterflies for a Cutie Mark.

"If you have wings why didn't you fly to find me?" the egg asked.

"Umm, I'm not that good a flier." the the way she said it made her voice get quieter and quieter. "Where exactly are you again?" the pony asked.

"I'm right in front of you." The pony looked all over the place but the only thing she saw was a strange red and black rock.

"Are you hiding behind that rock? Because if you are please don't come out and scare me. I really don't like being scared." The egg laughed.

"You know how many times I've been called a rock in a thousand years? I've lost count. No, I'm not a rock. I'm an egg and I'm waiting for my master. Are you my master?" the egg asked hopefully.

"You're an egg?" the pony asked.

"Yes. I just said that, and that I'm waiting for my master. Are you my master?" The pony hadn't payed attention to the question again.

"There's no way you can be an egg. I know every creature in this forest and I have never seen an egg like you or a creature lay an egg like you before. Can't say I've ever heard an egg talking either." The egg was growing very impatient at this point.

"Look I'm an egg. I've been an egg for a thousand years. I am an egg because my master hasn't claimed me yet. Are you my master?" The pony cowered at the authority in the egg's voice.

"Muh, muh, master? Don't you mean mother?"

"Mother?"

The egg had heard that word before. Some creatures that came to investigate him had younger ones with them, those younger ones would use the word mother to the larger size creature.

"Are you my, mother, then?" The egg asked confused at this point.

"Well, no, but would you like me to take care of you?" asked the pony.

"I don't really know. It would be nice to finally be away from this spot after such a long time" the egg said.

"Then that settles it. Come on we're going home." Home, something about that word sounded nice to the egg. It couldn't fathom why this winged pony had developed a fascination with it after being scared to death at the sound of it's voice just moments ago.

"Ok then, Mother." The winged pony somehow scooped up the egg and placed it on her back. Realizing it was much heavier than it appeared, the walk 'home' (still a foreign word to the egg's vocabulary) took a lot longer than she expected. This 'home', as the yellow pony said, was a small cottage at the edge of the forest. Covered in grass and filled with runways, holes and perches for different animals 'home' felt right to the egg. He felt he finally belonged to someone. At the arrival of this pony, multiple creatures ran up to her as she opened the door. The egg recognized a few of them. So this was where they lived. The pony put the egg down next to a fireplace and walked away into another room. The fire felt nice. The egg heard a couple of sounds coming from the other room. The pony came back with several bowls of brown stuff in it. The egg watched in confusion as all the animals practically mugged the pony to drop the bowls. When she set them down all of them happily munched on this stuff. That is except for the white bunny from earlier. He looked at this pony with contempt for the meal she presented him. Apparently it wasn't up to standard for the bunny so he kicked it away.

"Oh, um, ok Angel. You don't have to eat it if you, um, don't want to."

The bunny smirked a little bit and pulled out a shape filled with thinner shapes with something on it. The bunny pointed to some thing in it and the pony smiled.

"Ok Angel. Just wait a little longer and it'll be already for you." The bunny smiled now and sat back down.

"Hey,uh, Angel. Over here." said the egg. Angel looked around panicing, remembering the voice from earlier.

"Yeah it's me. I'm in here now." The bunny couldn't have turned a shade whiter if it was possible.

"Listen, I been watchin' the way you boss around that pony. I want to know why when she takes of you and gives you food to eat and a place to sleep." The bunny looked like he was about to faint.

"Just be nice to her and you won't have any problems from me." The bunny shook his head up and down rapidly.

"Good, now eat your food." Right on cue, the pony returned with an updated dish.

"Sorry Angel. I know you like it a certain way. I didn't have all the ingredients. Please don't kick it over again." To her amazement the white bunny ate the food without any complaints. A short time later, all the animals were put up to their individual areas and sleeping quite soundly. The yellow pony walked over to the fireplace and laid down. She had forgotten all about the red and black egg right beside her.

"So shall we pick up where we left off." She leaped a good five feet in the air before landing on the floor.

"Wha? Who? Where?" Panic washed over her face.

"It's me. The, uh, egg you picked up." That calmed her down.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I not used to having something talk to me at night."

"It's quite alright. You don't seem the brave type anyway. And I have excuse to give my 'mother' a heart attack" The pony blushed in embarressment.

"That's quite considerate of you since we've only just met today." The egg seemed to ignore that last remark.

"Now to the business at hand. You picked me up and brought me into your home. I am now your humble servant Master."

"I thought you had agreed to call me mother." said the yellow pony before squeeking. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry where are my manners. My name is Fluttershy.What's your name again?"

"I don't have name"

"Oh that's right. Well, what do you want to be called?"

"Um that's kind of the thing. I don't really know what I am to pick my name. Kind of defeats the purpose if you know what I mean"

Before he could continue the shell that covered him suddenly went soft. He felt around. Sure enough, the shell that had housed him for a thousand years was now weak. He tried something different. He put a hand against the inside and pushed. The hand went through and ripped the shell a little bit. He grabbed the outside of the shell and ripped some more. Before he knew it, he was out of his home of a thousand years and experiencing life for the first time. Fluttershy looked his way and fear gripped her face.

Standing in front of her was a dragon.

Chapter 2

"A d, dragon? But, but!" Fluttershy screamed.

She feared full grown dragons and was hesitant to continue forward more than once when she and the others went on an expedition to deal with a sleeping dragon. In the end, she gained the courage to speak to the dragon, even confront it face-to-face when the others failed to negotiate with it. After humbling the dragon and causing it to cry, she immediately consoled it and advised it to look for a more suitable place to sleep. However, Fluttershy pointedly refused to watch the Dragon Migration with her friends, despite Twilight Sparkle's coaxing. It culminated in her pushing past Rainbow Dash and jumping out the window, fleeing the scene before any of them could follow her. The little dragon tried to put it all together.

"I'm a, a dragon? Well that exlains why I was in an egg."

The baby dragon looked at Fluttershy. His mother, another foreign term in vocabulary, had turned several shades paler. She was hiding her face in her hooves and trembling so bad it looked like she was having a seizure. He walked over to try and comfort her. "Hey are you ok? You look like you've seen a gho"

"Get away from me you dragon!" she yelled

"Hey." he said confused

"You may have huge teeth, and sharp scales, and snore smoke, and breathe fire." she continued

"Master." he tried to calm her down.

"But if you lay a claw on my animals or my friends, I'll, I'll"

"Listen!" he yelled

Fluttershy stopped her scared rambling. Very slowly, she looked up toward the dragon. She didn't even realize he was a baby dragon about the size of Spike. He had dark red scales, black stubs that would to be horns, and yellow eyes with red irises. The dragon looked pretty hurt at Fluttershy's rambling. He had no clue what a dragon even was and her fear had caused him to well up tears.

"Well it's, it's not like I asked to born a dragon!"

The baby dragon started crying. Fluttershy felt horrible. She took care of every animal that came through her door. Why should a dragon, even if they terrified her beyond reason, be any different?

"There, there. No need to cry. You're not a bad dragon, I made a bad decision in yelling at you. Now why don't we find you a place to sleep?"

The baby dragon stopped crying and looked at her, his eyes puffy and bloodshot. He wiped a claw over his eys and smiled. "Ok."

Strangely the dragon was talking but his mouth never moved once. Putting the thought aside, Fluttershy took him up to the guest bedroom. Though this room was mainly for the Cutie Mark Crusaders whenever they wanted to sleep over, it wasn't in use now and the bed was really comfy. She turned to face the little dragon. She stepped aside, raised a hoof, and presented the dragon with his room. "You can sleep here little one. Now come now, time for bed."

The dragon was already on the bed. He balled himself up and closed his eyes. Fluttershy smiled again and walked over to the bed. She put the top blanket over him in case he got cold. Fluttershy turned and walked out the doorway going to her own bed. With all that happened to her in the past hour, she had to be ready tomorrow when she would take the dragon to Twilight and Spike. 'How did a dragon egg even end up in the middle of nowhere?' she thought. She had, timidly and sometimes without a choice, explored almost every inch of the forest and never once had she seen the egg he was in. Maybe her animal friends had and just didn't want to say anything to her. Putting these thoughts aside, sleep called for Fluttershy and she was happy to answer.

The next morning, Fluttershy made breakfast for each and every one of her animal friends. Angel, once again, ate the whole meal with out any problems. She heard footsteps coming down her stairs. She poked her head out. The baby dragon had woken up. Panic spread like wildfire over animal like wildfire. Bowls of food were kicked over. Droppings dropped. Cries of terror from every creature filled the house with more noise than Fluttershy thought was ever possible.

"I think they like you." she tried to joke.

"That's how you show you like someone?" asked the little dragon.

"Well no, but"

The baby dragon started waving his arms around and tried to copy the panic from moments ago. Fluttershy giggled at the adorable sight. "Come on little one. Let's get you something to eat."

"All right! I'm starving!"

Breakfast went fairly well. The dragon happily ate the meal Fluttershy provided. She made him coffee, assuming that dragons drank coffee, and cereal. Even with the dragon's help she got her work done a little more slowly because the animals were afraid of the little guy. Fluttershy wanted to introduce the little dragon to her friends, Twilight Sparkle, and another dragon, Spike. They lived in a tree in the middle of town. The baby dragon didn't realize was that Fluttershy lived at the edge of town so walking there took a little time. When they got into town, the little dragon couldn't believe his eyes. Ponies of every size and color were walking, talking, and doing things everywhere. There were even different ponies than Fluttershy. Some ponies had a horn growing out their head. Other ponies didn't have a horn like the others or wings like Fluttershy did. Every pony stared at him as he and Fluttershy walked into town. They knew one dragon lived there, now there were two dragons in Ponyville? Fluttershy was totally afraid of dragons, what was she doing with one?

They made their way to the middle of town. Sure enough there was a big tree there. A door opened and a little purple and green dragon walked out. He made it a few feet before stopping in front of the baby dragon. The baby dragon studied the other one carefully. This new dragon was a little taller than he was. He had horns bigger than his. And he could walk better on two legs. The other dragon then noticed he had come with his mother and confusion stretched over his face.

"Twilight! Come out here! You're not gonna believe this!" he said

A purple pony with a horn on her head came out the door. She saw Fluttershy first.

"Oh! Hello and good morning Fluttershy. What brings you here?"

"Hello and good morning to you to Twilight! I need to talk to you about him."Confusion stretched over Twilight's face. There was no 'him' anywhere around Fluttershy, which was a total shame considering her looks and caring nature.

"Him? Who are you talking about?" Fluttershy pointed to where Spike was at. Twilight's face went into scoding mode. "What? Did Spike do something? Spike what did you do?" Spike took offense at that.

"She means him Twilight." He stepped out of the way and revealed a red baby dragon. Twilight's mouth hit the ground. Her eyes diminished to the size of beads. Her facede somehow turned to Fluttershy.

"Fluttershy? Care to explain?" Fluttershy looked around to make sure noone else was listening in. She didn't to give anyone the wrong idea she took in just anypony on a whim.

"I found him as an egg yesterday. He hatched when I brought him home." Twilight looked at her friend with more confusion on her face. She got Spike when he was an egg and she almost failed her entrance exam because she couldn't hatch him. Ho did Fluttershy manage it?

"You found him as an egg? And you hatched him?" Twilight asked Fluttershy. She was about to answer but was cut off by the red dragon.

"Yeah, Fluttershy's taken good of me!" said the baby dragon but what was interesting about it was he never once opened his mouth. Twilight stared at him then Fluttershy.

"And he talks to?" Fluttershy tried to speak again but was cut off by the baby dragon

"Oh course I can talk. Doesn't everyone?"

"I think we better go inside Fluttershy"

"That's what I wanted to see you about Twilight. I don't anything about dragons and their language so I don't know what to name him"

"I think I have a book on dragons we can look at." All of them went inside. The building itself was a large, hollowed-out tree. Twilight said it was protected from lightning by a magical lightning rod, the main reading room was the ground floor, while an upper-story room served as living quarters for Twilight and Spike, additionally there was a basement where Twilight performed measurements on anything she wanted further research on. They all sat down in the reading room. Fluttershy told her story about yesterday. Twilight had Spike take notes on everything she said but he was unconvinced.

"Wait, wait, wait. You said he was an egg yesterday. How could you hear him talking if he was inside an egg?" Fluttershy hadn't thought about that at all.

"How did you talk to me when you were inside the egg, widdle guy?" Every eye was upon the baby dragon. Once agin his mouth was shut but words could be heard.

"That's easy. I learned how talk with my mind."

"Please. Everypony knows you can't talk with your mind." Spike retorted. Twilight and Fluttershy agreed with Spike. The little dragon shrugged and stood up. He closed his eyes. To the amazement of everypony and dragon in the room they heard him speak as clear as day.

"Told you."

Twilight worked herself towards insanity trying to disprove telepathy. Something that complex was something only the princesses could possibly know. She pointed a hoof at the dragon. "There is no way you're able to telepath when I haven't even heard of a way to prove against it." She went racing around the library looking for books. While this 'research' as Twilight rambled was happening, Fluttershy asked Spike what he knew about the Dragon language. Spike, being a dragon, knew the language pretty well and was able to explain it.

"The language is basically the same grammar as basic, with the exceptions that it doesn't have an equivalent to basic's apostrophes, it tends to place prepositional phrases earlier in sentences than basic does, and it doesn't have tense. To make a word plural, two letters are added to the end of the word, the first being the last letter in the singular form, and the second being an "e". Words are constructed in such a way that, when combined, form new words."

Fluttershy and the dragon were looking at Spike with looks of total confusion. Spike continued anyway trying a different approach.

"A known construction is 'Junnesejer' which mean 'the kings of the east'. 'Jun' being King and 'Jer' being East. Thus, combining words allows you to convey an idea or another word. For example: Moon and Eclipse are not part of the vocabulary, but Sun, 'Krein', and Night, 'Vulon', are. The word is based on which of the words come first, because the first word is prominent. If you were to say VulonKrien then the prominent word is Night while the secondary is Sun, and you would have Moon, a light in the night. Vice versa with KrienVulon, the sun is prominent and night is secondary so you would have Eclipse, darkness where the sun is. With Junnesejer, it means The kings of the east. But if you were to put it as Jersejun it would say East King. "se" is a conjunction between words that are combined to fill in the particles but its just as easily understood without it."

Both Fluttershy and the baby dragon, who was resting in Fluttershy's forelegs, were beyond lost. They thanked Twilight Sparkle, who had totalled her house looking for any book that disproved telepathy, for finding a book to help them out and Spike for explaining as best he could. The baby dragon climbed up onto Fluttershy and they left for home.

The evening went be quickly. They had dinner after feeding all the animals. Once agin, they overreacted to the sight of a dragon and left a huge mess. They both cleaned up the mess, and themselves, and had dinner afterward. It was a simple mix of salad and hay fries. They tried getting one animal to play with the dragon, but that attempt was unsuccessfull. The little dragon said he was tired and went upstairs. He got balled up again on top of the bed. Fluttershy told him the bed would be better if he went under the covers. He did as she said. She was right! This was better! Fluttershy sang a very special song for her special dragon.

'Hush-a-by, Don't you cry

Go to sleep, my little baby

When you wake you shall have

All the pretty little horses

Dapples and Grays, Pintos and Bays,

All the pretty little horses

Way down yonder, in the meadow,

poor little baby, crying mama,

Birds and the Butterflies

Flutter round his eyes

Poor little baby, crying mama

Hush-a-by, dont you cry

Go to sleep, my little baby

when you wake, you shall have

all the pretty little horses

Dapples and Grays, Pintos and Bays,

All the pretty little horses'

She leaned down to give him a hug.The baby dragon buried his head in her chest. "G'night." He went to sleep quickly. She tried to remember what Spike said about dragon talk. She thought of the perfect name for him, a name that would reflect the warmth in her heart about taking in this dragon and raising him as her son.

"Goodnight, Glendrel"

Once she made sure the dragon was asleep, Fluttershy went back down stairs. She got paper and a quill and started writing to Princess Celestia and Princess Luna for advice.

Dear Princess Celestia and Princess Luna,

I'm sure Twilight had Spike send you a letter already about me finding and hatching a dragon egg. I want you to hear it from me as well. I found him as an egg in the Everfree Forest. It's a strange and dangerous place especially for an egg. This is the part I know will suprise and confuse you. He actually spoke to me while he was an egg. He told me how his 'master' left him there one thousand years ago and he had been waiting for him to reclaim him. I found him and brought him to my home. It was here that he actually hatched. He is Spike's size but red with black markings all over him. He calls me his master and wants only to serve me.

I am terrified of dragons. I know nothing about them. I don't know how I will react when he gets larger than he is now. I am asking forany advice and for anything you have on dragons to help me out.

Your loyal subject,

Fluttershy

Chapter 3

The morning arrived bright and clear after the fierce storm that had rolled through the night before. The air had a chill bite to it that Glendrel could feel even through his thick scales. But rather than encouraging him to remain in her warm, sandy nest, the brisk air, combined with the brilliant sun streaming in through the windows carved into the side of the cave wall where he made his lair, called to him in a way he could not resist. It was going to be a beautiful early spring day and he wanted to make the most of it.

As he rose from the shallow depression that served as his bed, Glendrel noted that the sand that lining the bottom of the hollow would need to be replenished soon. Another reason to get an early start on the day, he thought to himself. The winter just past had been particularly cold with more snow than he remembered falling in many years this far south. If it hadn’t been for the stockpile of sand gathered before the first snows, he would have been sleeping on bare stone by now. Glendrel turned toward the tunnel that connected his chamber to the greater lair complex winding its way through the hollow mountain. His acute hearing detected the sounds of talons clicking against the stone floor and the faint brush of wing sail against scales indicating that he was not the first to arise this morning. But instead of going to join them in the communal central cavern, Glendrel turned continued to the protected mouth of his own lair and soon stepped into the brilliant morning sunshine.

Glendrel turned so the light of the sun sparkled along the length of his body, his ruby scales glinting brilliantly as he did so. He then spread his great onyx wings to warm them just a bit before taking to the air. The ledge outside his lair was high enough that when he was ready, all he needed to do was step off into the void and catch the currents that rose along the flanks of the mountain.

Normally he delighted in flying, chasing creatures across the wide river valley that spread out from the base of the mountain. Today, however, he wanted to enjoy the peace and beauty of the morning by himself. Heading toward the rising sun, Glendrel soon found himself soaring over the blue ocean waters that lay to the east of his home. The swift, north flowing currents brought warmer waters and warmer air with them and he turned to catch these ocean born thermals. Glendrel pumped his wings to gain altitude and soon the islands that dotted the coastline shrank beneath him, green gems sparkling in ocean waters as blue as his mother's own eyes. The observation amused him immensely as he compared the scene below his wings to his own jeweled coloration and he soon began an impromptu sky dance to celebrate the harmony he felt between himself and the world around him.

Tucking his wings close to his sides he dove towards the water, delighting in the feel of the wind rushing past his scales. As he reached the point where an observer would fear he was doomed, Glendrel snapped his wings open and pulled out of the dive to skim just above the surface of the water. Snaking his head around he peered behind him and watched the wind of his passing creating interlocking ripples that spread out in his wake. He then pumped his wings again and rose once more into the sky. As he continued to climb, he pulled one wing in close and gave a last down stroke with the other resulting in a vertical spin that in combat would allow one to escape an enemy attack. But in this case it was purely an expression of the joy found only in flight. Once he reached the apex of his climb, Glendrel cupped his wings suddenly, caught an updraft and came to a hover. The serenity of the quite morning had just been interrupted by a silent “cry” for help.

At first he wasn’t sure he had heard the faint emotional call, but when it came again he was able to determine that it was coming from one of the smaller islands some distance out from the coast. Banking to his right, Glendrel glided out to sea at deceptively sedate pace. While he was anxious to locate whomever was in trouble he didn’t want to approach so quickly as to alarm them. Even though his kind didn’t hunt other sentient beings for food there were other races that weren’t quite so . . . discriminate. He reached out with his thoughts to see if he could establish mental contact with the being who had called out but without success. Either they were from a race that had no ability at mind speech at all, or they were too far away for him to establish a link. As he closed in on a cluster of small islands Glendrel hoped that whoever was in trouble would call out again. There were more than a dozen of the little outcrops of land, and though they were small when compared to some of the other islands around them, they were large enough to be time consuming to search.

He was beginning to wonder if he should send a call back toward home and request a rescue flight be sent to help when the cry came once again. This time he was close enough to determine which island it came from and that the caller was getting increasingly desperate. He increased his speed and soon reached his destination. As he turned to circle the perimeter of the island, he saw the broken remains of a small boat strewn along a narrow beach. He was pleased to note the faint, but readable tracks that lead up the beach towards the tall cliffs that ringed the island. That gave him a direction in which to start his search.

Again he sent out a mental call in an effort to reach the caller and again he received no response. He also considered issuing a vocal call of his own, but he was still concerned that even a moderate roar from his might cause undo alarm in those he was searching for and might even drive them into greater danger if they sought to run from him. Glendrel lined himself up with a tall spur of rock thrusting itself up through the dense vegetation of the island so he could use his distance from it to establish a spiral search pattern around the island. He once again considered calling back for assistance, but until he was able to establish just who was in trouble and how they would react to Dragons he was still reluctant to do so. Settling himself for a potentially long search Glendrel banked to his left and began circling the island in a clockwise direction.

He hadn’t gone quite half way around the island when he spotted a bright splash of reddish-brown against the dark gray stone of a cliff the looked to be several hundred feet tall. It was one of the Griffons, the lion-eagle race whose lands bordered that of Equestria. As he got closer he saw there was another Griffon laying across the top of the cliff, hanging slightly over the edge and straining to reach its companion. Judging by their size these two were young, out of adolescence, yes, but not yet fully adult. That explained why there was no response to his mental call. Either neither of these two had the gift of mind speech, or their gifts had yet to fully manifest. But at least he knew that they would recognize him as an ally if he were to verbally call out to them.

Just as he prepared to do so, a sudden gust of wind surged up the cliff face and knocked the young Griffon from its tenuous hold on the rock face and it fell towards the rocky beach below. A roar of dismay from Glendrel echoed the cries of fear and anguish from both of the Griffons. He dove down the face of the cliff after the plummeting form and snatched it from the air, being very careful not to puncture it with his sharp talons. As he had done earlier that morning Glendrel snapped his wings open and pulled out of the dive just as the other Griffon cried out in despair, convinced that both it’s companion and Glendrel were destined to crash. Glendrel then pumped his wings and soared back up the cliff face and with his free hand plucked the startled creature off the ground and flew towards the open beach. When he reached the spot where he had seen the remains of their boat Glendrel cupped his wings and came to a gentle landing.

He then gently set the pair down on the soft sand and stepped back enough to get a better look at them. The one who had fallen was a young male and the other a female. He could tell that his assessment of their age had been correct. The female immediately bent to check on the condition of her companion who had collapsed onto the beach. Glendrel could smell the dried blood that matted his dense, red-brown fur and knew that the male had been seriously injured in the fall that resulted in his clinging to the side of the cliff. How seriously he could not tell, but that he was not still bleeding was a good sign. Suddenly the female stood and rushed over to the remains of the boat, checking various boxes that had washed up along the beach. It was obvious that she was searching for something, but the Dragon had no way of knowing what that might be. After a few minutes the female had apparently found the box she was looking for half buried in the sand and began frantically trying to dig it out. Glendrel carefully got up and walked over to where the female was working and with a single talon lifted the box from the sand and popped the lid open.

For the first time the female spoke. “Thank you, Gentle Dragon. Had you not found us, I fear my brother would now be dead.” Glendrel nodded his head in acknowledgement and then introduced himself using the common language of trade.

“Master Glendrel,” the female said and bowed her head again. "I am Gilda and my brother is Talon.”

Cree then began to dig through the box until she found a small green jar, it’s cap tightly sealed against water and air by a coating of wax. With her prize in hand, Cree ran quickly back to her brother and cracked open the seal. Whatever the jar contained the smell was quite pungent and Glendrel wrinkled his nose in disgust as he pulled his head back. Apparently, the Griffon also found the smell unpleasant for as soon as Gilda passed the small jar under her brother’s nose he began to cough and turned his head away. A moment later his eyes opened and he looked around the beach, obviously unsure how he had gotten down off the cliff relatively unscathed. When he spotted Glendrel, he gasped in surprise and tried to rise to his feet. Gilda ushedack down and ordered him to lie still. His sister’s tone was so firm and authoritative that he quickly turned to look at Eirlan in order to hide his amusement. As he did so, Eirlan caught a faint touch at the edges of her mind. Suddenly he put one hand over his eyes and groaned in pain.

"Can you hear me, Talon?" she asked.

“Yes,” he answered verbally if somewhat weakly, “but it looks like that is going to be all for a while. My gift is only recently awakened and it appears this headache is going to interfere with it for a while. I see my sister has already told you our names.”

“Yes, and I am pleased that at least one of you can hear me. It will make things much easier. You’ll just need to translate. For now, though, we need to see about getting the pair of you back home and you to a healer. I would be happy to carry you on my back if you are up to the ride.”

“I think Talon might have trouble holding on to your back with his injuries and I am unwilling to rely on my own strength to hold him in place. Could you carry him in your hands?” Gilda asked.

“I could carry him, but that would not be advisable. It would not be as comfortable for Talon and it would make landing difficult,” Glendrel explained. "Maybe we can devise some sort of harness . . ."

After discussing it for a moment the pair agreed that a harness would be a prudent move and Gilda began scouring the wreckage for the rope they would need. When she returned to her brother’s side, Glendrel asked if she should see about hunting for them, but Gilda didn’t think that would be wise with Talon’s head injury. It would probably be safer for him to wait until a healer had seen him before eating anything to avoid the possibility of making him sick to his stomach, Gilda reasoned. Well, Glendrel didn’t know enough about either the Griffons or the ways of healers to dispute Gilda’s reasoning and so he simply sat back and waited for her to gather the material for the harness.

He noticed that Talon had gotten rather quite and turned to see that he had fallen backward and was apparently sleeping. However, Glendrel remembered one of his mates who had once crashed into the side of the mountain after attempting an aerial maneuver she was not skilled enough to perform and suffered a head injury. The healers had instructed that she was not to be allowed to sleep for fear she would lapse into a deathlike sleep. So he snaked his tail over and gently propped the male up into a sitting position and shook him just enough to get his attention.

”What were you doing out in such a small boat at night in a storm? Should you not have been in your lair by a warm fire?”

“We hadn’t intended to be out so long. Gilda and I were fishing for deep-sea redfin … they come to these islands to feed on the smaller fish that spawn here in the early spring…and strayed too far out to sea," he explained. "We were caught in the great current and the storm drove us on to this island."

“But what of your parents?" Glendrel asked. "Surely they would net have permitted their cubs out on such a voyage alone?”

Talon dipped his head in embarrassment. “They did not know. It was to be a surprise for our sire’s whelping day, so we told them we were going to visit friends. I am old enough that they usually don’t object to such journeys. After this, though, I fear it will be some time before we are allowed such freedom again.”

Further conversation was interrupted when Gilda called to announce that she was ready to fit the harness. Due to Glendrel's size, Gilda first simply laid out three long lines of rope about a foot and a half apart and joined together by smaller strands in the sand. She then directed Glendrel to lay down on the ropes with the first lining up around the neck and the other two behind his forelimbs. Next she tossed the loose ropes over the Dragon’s back and down the opposite side while Glendrel snaked his long neck back and forth to watch what the female was doing. Once Gilda had all of the ropes aligned to her satisfaction she pulled them tight against Glendrel's side, tied all the ends together and knotted them securely. Finally, she aided Talon to climb up Glendrel's shoulder and settled him behind one of the Dragon’s onyx neck ridges and between the first and second lines of the makeshift harness. She then used four more short strands of rope to secure Talon by his belt to the harness by four points: two in front of her brother and two behind.

“Is that going to be a problem for you?” she asked Glendrel. The Dragon extended his great wings and gave them a couple of experimental flaps. The whole rig felt a bit strange, but he didn’t believe it was anything that would interfere with his ability to fly and maneuver properly. Gilda then secured herself to the harness in the same manner she had Talon before wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. When everyone was ready Glendrel crouched low, lifted his wings high and launched himself and his passengers into the sky.

It wasn’t long before they were winging over the main land, soaring over open fields and the broad valley river valley he had flown over earlier that morning. He reached out with his mind and contacted his wing mate, Rainbow Dash, and quickly explained the morning’s events. Glendrel then asked Rainbow to have a healer meet him and his passengers at the landing meadow. He also asked Talon the name of their village so he could have Rainbow send word to their family. When he arrived at the meadow he was surprised to find Nurse Redheart, waiting for her along with Rainbow Dash and three others. Sitting beside the nurse was the Mayor and two Griffons.

“Uh-oh…” said Talon. “I think we’re in real trouble now.”

Glendrel came to a gentle landing, very careful to avoid stirring any more dust than absolutely necessary. He gathered by the sudden and acute apprehension he sensed from his passengers that those waiting for them were people of some importance. As soon as he was safely on the ground, he crouched low as Gilda helped Talon extract himself from the harness. Before Gilda could help her brother to dismount, the two adults reached Glendrel's side to offer their assistance.

“It looks like you had quite an adventure, young ones,” one of the adults remarked as he placed a hand under Talon’s jaw and carefully turned his head to get a better look at the wound. His tone was light, but the angry flick of his tail told Glendrel the elder Griffon was less than pleased by that he saw. "Nurse Redheart. . .?"

The white mare extended her neck and examined the wound, her senses extended to probe the extent of the damage. “The skull is cracked, but there appears to be no damage inside. Look at me, child,” she said to Talon. Peering into Talon’s eyes for a long moment, the healer then nodded to herself apparently satisfied with what she saw. “He will have a proper headache for several days, but I think it best to let the injury heal on it’s own. If nothing else, the pain will help teach him to be more cautious in the future in choosing his adventures.”

“If he is anything like his father, I doubt it…” remarked the second Griffon her tone somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Glendrel, my mate and I thank you for your timely service. I fear what would have happened to our children otherwise.”

So, that explains it, Glendrel thought very privately to himself. He had half expected someone from Gilda and Talon’s village might be there, but that it would be their parents had not occurred to him. He then noticed the feathered earring the female wore on her right and the matching armbands indicating she was also one of the leaders of the village. Taking a closer look at the male, Glendrel saw he not only wore similar ornaments but also wore the wide metal cuffs on both wrists and ankles of the village war chief. Suddenly, he knew who these Griffons were and why Talon’s apprehension seemed so out of proportion.

“I’m happy I was able to help, Lady Killer, Chief Thunder. But please, don’t judge them too harshly for their error in judgment. The seas this time of year can be unpredictable…” Glendrel began. Although he knew what Talon and Gilda had done was foolish, he found he liked them very much and did not wish to see them in too much trouble.

“Their error was not in underestimating the sea,” Thunder interrupted, “but in lying to us about where they were going.” Talon and Gilda both hung their heads in shame and their tails drooped nearly to the ground at their father’s words. “However, I think this is something we can discuss later, after you have both recovered from this… outing.”

None of the adults missed the looks of relief the children exchanged under cover of bowed heads. Glendrel couldn’t help but smile to himself. Like most hatchlings of any species, he had done things just as foolish as these two had done. And judging by Lady Killer’s remarks earlier he was certain that Thunder had similar adventures in his childhood. Glendrel had no doubt that some form of punishment was waiting for Talon and Gilda when they returned to their village, but he was certain it would not be as sever as the kids obviously feared.

For the first time since their arrival the Mayor spoke to the elder Griffons, “I am glad your children have been returned to you safe, and relatively sound. Since Glendrel still wears the harness, perhaps he would be willing to convey the kids back to your village? It would be a much faster and smoother journey than traveling by cart. We will care for your oxen and wagon until you are able to send someone to retrieve them.”

Killer and Thunder gladly accepted the Mayor's offer as Glendrel readily gave his agreement. Nurse Redheart gave a Killer a few suggestions for treatment of Talon’s head injury to passed along to their own healers while Thunder helped his children remount Glendrel's back and strapped them back into the harness. When he had finished, the Mayor walked over to examine the harness and how it was fitted to Glendrel's neck and shoulders.

“This is an interesting contraption, Glendrel. Your idea? I thought you were aware that Griffons can fly." she said.

"Yes, Mayor, but this my mother and Gilda's design. It seemed the best way to ensure the kids didn’t fall off on the journey here, ” he replied. “It feels a little strange, but I think it could prove most useful in the near future. Perhaps we could work with the Griffons to design something more refined…”

“Perhaps. I will discuss it with our own council after we return, and I would like you to be there as well,” the Mayor remarked almost casually.

Somewhat surprised by that last part, Glendrel merely nodded his head and waited for Thunder and Killer to settle themselves on the train to the Griffon Kingdom. He waited for the train to leave first and then launched himself after them. As they turned north towards the lands of the Griffons, Glendrel felt pleased in the outcome of the morning’s events. However, there was also a growing sense that it had not entirely been a coincidence… that perhaps the Spirit of the Winds had taken a hand to ensure closer relations between ponies and the Griffons. But the workings of fate could be left to fend for itself. For now the sun was bright and the open sky was before him, and for a Dragon there was nothing better!

Chapter 4

Glendrel awoke as the brilliant light of the morning sun fell across his face. He grumbled a little and pulled one wing up to block the offending light. He wasn’t ready to get up yet, preferring to lounge a bit longer in the soft nest of pine boughs he had made the night before. But the sudden rumbling of his empty stomach reminded him that it had been several days since he had last eaten. He grumbled once more in annoyance before rising slowly to his haunches and stretching his ebony wings to their fullest, giving them a few gentle flaps to get the circulation going.

He started to head for the stream a short distance from where he slept to quench his thirst when he heard the distant, but unmistakable bellowing of wild bulls challenging one another over position within the herd. It was too early in the year for the rut to begin, so he guessed that it must have be a bachelor band. Older, more experienced bulls knew better than to draw such attention to themselves without at least the possibility of fathering the next generation. A hungry Dragon was not the only possible danger to prowl the grasslands that bordered the forest, even if it was the greatest.

Once again Glendrel stomach reminded him of its desire to be filled and he smiled to himself. It had been a long time since he had hunted wild cattle and the thought of a herd so close (as the Dragon flies) was enough to make his mouth water. In eager anticipation he spread his great wings and took to the sky.

The air was chill, but the sun quickly warmed the Dragon’s black scales so he took his time locating the bachelor band. Even so, it didn’t take long before he spotted them. The two largest bulls were pawing the ground with sharp hooves as they squared off against one another. Glendrel flew a little higher to ensure the herd would not sense his presence overhead while he contemplated his next move. Some Dragons preferred to use magic to hide their approach and others chose to hit their quarry with a burst of Dragon's fire for a quick kill. Glendrel preferred the thrill of the chase, allowing him prey the opportunity to try and elude him as they might elude a lesser predator. Granted that meant he risked missing a tasty meal should he quarry make it to the shelter of the forest, but the satisfaction he always felt for a successful hunt made the risk worthwhile and when the time came for the kill he always made certain that it was quick and painless.

From his vantage point high above the valley, Glendrel observed the distribution of the herd. While another Dragon may have chosen to take advantage of the situation and strike at the pair battling for dominance he preferred to leave those two alone. They were obviously the strongest of the herd and would provide the greatest challenge to hunt, but they also provided the best opportunity for the future welfare of the wild cattle that inhabited these mountain pastures. So he decided to study the rest of the herd to locate a more opportune target and began to circle around to the far end of the valley where they had gathered.

This was a very diverse group he noticed, composed of those obviously just driven from the main herd to those older bulls who were no longer strong enough to defend a breeding harem of their own. He was beginning to think that one of these older bulls might be a better choice for a meal, as their loss would have the smallest impact on the overall health of the valley’s cattle population. The older bulls, while not quite as tasty or tender as the younger bulls, had already had an opportunity to prove their worthiness as sires and might even be the fathers of the pair currently fighting for supremacy at the other end of the valley.

A loud bellow from the two embattled bulls caused him to turn and look back up the valley. One of the pair had succeeded in knocking the other off his feet and was tossing his head in triumph while the other struggled to right himself. Suddenly the victor lowered his great head and charged his fallen foe. The speed of the attack was impressive and the thud of impact could be heard even over the scream of pain voiced by the defeated bull as he was viciously gored in the side. Caught up in the heat of battle the victor continued to swing his horns back and forth as he began stomping his opponent with his front hooves, his horns dripping blood and trailing bits of flesh torn from the side of his rival. Only when the fallen bull lay still did the other finally cease his attack. With a final bellow of triumph, the victorious bull left his rival where he lay and trotted over to a nearby stream where he quickly began to wallow in the cold water in an effort to wash the blood from his own hide, lest he attract the attention of any predators in the area . . . like a hungry Dragon, perhaps.

Glendrel started to chuckle to himself at the irony of the champion's actions when movement from the defeated bull caught his attention. Surly he couldn’t still be alive after the sever beating he had taken? He made a quick dive at the herd to scatter it before turning back to where the mortally injured bull lay bleeding. As he came to a gentle landing he could hear the wheezing breath of the poor creature as its punctured lungs struggled to fill with air. So lost in his pain and the instinct to rise to his feet in spite of that pain the bull didn’t even notice the Dragon who quietly settled down next to him.

Reaching deep within he called upon his inborn magic and cast a spell of sleep over the bull to ease his passage into death. The futile attempts to rise ceased and the labored breathing slowed until it, too, finally stopped. As Glendrel watched, the light slowly faded from the eyes of the bull as its life came to an end. Again, the Dragon reached for his magic and shifted his vision so he could see into the spirit realm. There was the spirit of the bull standing next to him, his head held high and proud . . . his body whole and strong again. Assured that all was well with his spirit, he started to return to normal vision when suddenly the air shimmered and a graceful white cow appeared. Her hide was as pure as newly fallen snow and the sense of “presence” Glendrel felt told him this was no ordinary being. The cow walked over to the spirit of the bull and gently nuzzled his neck and shoulder before turning to look at a very startled Dragon.

“Thank you for your compassion, Dragon,” She said. “There are not many who would show such to one of My children in their last moments, even amongst themselves. And while I bear no animosity toward anyone for that, I wanted you to know that your actions were noted . . . and are appreciated.” With that She turned to the bull once more and the pair slowly faded from sight, like smoke blown away on the wind.

Well, this definitely wasn’t the hunt I had in mind when I woke up this morning, Glendrel thought to himself. He wasn’t so much surprised to learn that wild cattle apparently had a goddess all their own as he was stunned that said goddess would take the time to speak to a Dragon. Shifting his vision back to normal sight he looked at the abandoned carcass of the fallen bull. He wasn't sure what to make of what just happened or what he should do next. As he contemplated just cremating the carcass and leaving the herd behind, he caught the faint sound of a bull’s courting call carried across the wind and the image of the white Cow Goddess flashed briefly across his mind’s eye leaving him with a clear impression of “waste not, want not.”

Taking the hint, Glendrel could not help but laugh at himself before settling down to enjoy his breakfast.

Chapter 5

Sankarran smiled to herself as she watched her mate give every indication of rapt attention as their son chattered away at breakneck speed. She had already heard the tale of how Solan had tracked a fat squirrel all the way across the nearby meadow back to its home tree with out being seen. Oh, yes... Three times in as many hours! And while she was proud of her son's accomplishment she was still glad when Glendrel shadow pass overhead indicating his return from flying the bounds of their territory.

Solan was midway through his third summer and growing fast. And though he was far from a shining example of draconic grace he was starting to get old enough for short romps on his own. His parents were still careful to make certain he did not wander so far from the lair that one of them could not keep a close mental "eye" on him. Although rare, it was not unheard of for desperate and hungry predators to attempt making a meal out of an awkward, unattended Dragon-child.

But animal predators were not really what occupied Sankarran's thoughts as she watched her son and his father. Of greater concern was the possibility that some mortal fool with more courage than sense would attempt to snatch a trusting hatchling who had wandered too far from home, or whose parents were incautious enough not to be watching over their child. The Dragonlands were bordered on one side by the hunting territories of griffons and on another by land controlled by buffalo, and occasionally one or the other would venture into the Dragon lands with vile intentions. Even now, the mere thought of such an intrusion was enough to cause emerald fire to flash in Sankarran's eyes. And as she watched the excited gestures Solan was using to emphasize various points of his tale, Sankarran forced herself to contemplate the dread possibility of just such threats to the safety and security of her small family.

Are you alright, dear heart? Glendrel's mind voice sounded gently in her thoughts even though his eyes never left the beaming face of their son.

Yes, my love. I'm fine. Just thinking about all possibilities for the future... some less pleasant than others," she returned with mindspeech of her own. She then smiled again and sent to her mate "You know we only have a few more seasons at best before we have to be as careful with mindspeech as we are with normal speech around Solan. Soon he will be able to hear all that is not deliberately shielded."

Rather than answer her directly, Glendrel sent a wave of affection back to his mate before turning his attention fully to his son once again. Sankarran watched them for another moment before returning to darker thoughts.

Buffalos were the lesser of the two evils that could befall a hapless Dragon-child. While larger and stronger than griffons, they were barely intelligent enough to be considered other than clever animals. And their interest in catching a Dragon-child was at least an honest (if disgusting) one: sacrifice. Once each year the demons the bison worshipped as gods would demand the life's blood of a creature born of magic to renew their own power and strength. Most often is was the rather defenseless forest fairies which would be captured in whole groups and fed to the goblin "gods." Occasionally a particularly clever chieftain would succeed in capturing larger prey such as a Unicorn, or even a Griffon. But every once in a while several tribes would band together at the urging of their demon gods and launch a stealthy invasion of the Dragon lands in search of a greater prize.

Griffons on the other talon were altogether a different matter. Intelligent and crafty, griffons were also wholly evil . Their interest in capturing a hatchling was as vile and loathsome as the goblins themselves: food. Even a small Dragon such as Solan could provide enough meat to feed a griffon family for several weeks.

Young Dragons less than five summers old lacked the strength to escape a griffon trap sprung on them if they were on the ground, and they lacked the skill and agility to evade a net flung at them if they were in the air. Once captured there was little a hatchling could do to defend itself. They were too young to breath fire, and what magical abilities they possessed would not be strong enough to prevail against that of the griffon priests. Add in the limited range of a hatchling's mindspeech and a young Dragon could find itself in dire straights indeed. The hatchling would quickly be wrapped in mystical bindings that would leave the child totally immobile... and totally aware of its fate. And when all was in readiness, the demon would be summoned to feast on the youngling's terror and pain before it would die, it's lifeblood going to feed the lust and hunger of the demon.

Sankarran did not realize she had closed her eyes until a loud squeal from Solan caused her to suddenly, almost fearfully, look to her son. But is wasn't a surprise attack by griffon raiders that caused her son to squeal. It was instead his attempt to imitate the angry squeaking of the squirrel that had been his quarry when it realized it was being pursued. Sankarran shook her golden head in amusement as Solan began snapping his tail back and forth in a fair imitation of the most indignant squirrel.

As Solan reached the end of his tale, Sankarran sent a grateful prayer to the Spirit of the Winds for the continued safety and happiness of her family. There was truly little danger of either fate happening to her son as long as she and Mirroth remained vigilant. Her son would continue to grow and prosper and chase squirrels across the meadows near their home, and she would always take delight in the excited cries of "Daddy!Daddy!Daddy!"

Chapter 6

"When I find that little scamp I'm going to roast his tail," Garble thought to himself as he searched the thick vegetation of the valley below. "I have more important matters to attend than tracking down troublesome hatchlings!"

Then heaving a great sigh, he reminded himself that it was precisely because of those "important matters" he had been asked by the Elders to join the search himself. Griffon raiders had been making more frequent forays and pushing further into the Dragon lands than ever before. And as Leader of the Clan Guard it was his task to discover why and stop it. There had always been periodic raids by the neighboring Griffon tribes, but the number and intensity of incursions over the past few seasons had reached alarming levels. Now was definitely not the time for an adventurous youngster to be wandering off.

Garble beat his great wings hard to gain altitude as he completed his survey of the narrow valley. Even among the scouts there was no other Dragon among the Clans who knew all of the secret places in the vast expanse of the Dragon lands as he did. No other Dragon had his memory for terrain nor his ability to tell instantly if something...anything... about a given area had been disturbed however slightly. Only Glendrel came close and he was searching elsewhere.

As he caught a new thermal to ride to the next valley over, he found himself again having to suppress a surge of irritation over the hatchlings antics. Though long out of the nesting grounds himself, he still remembered what it was like... testing one's evolving abilities and skills, the urge to explore beyond the next hill (an urge that was almost instinct among the population of the Clans). He remembered well the scolding he had received from his father for doing just as this child had done and flown off for an adventure of his own.

But times had changed drastically since then and Griffons were not the almost constant threat to an unwary Dragon-child as they were today. And that, Garble admitted to himself with a deep, rumbling growl that none but the winds could hear, was the real source of his irritation. Why had the Griffons become so increasingly bold? What could possibly be driving them to risk open war with the Clans? What could they possibly hope to gain except their own utter destruction? They had not yet mustered the courage to attack a fully grown Dragon, but a child would be easy prey. And just thinking about the fate that would await a captured child was enough to make Garble's blood boil with the desire to bring flaming death to any Griffon he might encounter. He pumped his wings harder and picked up speed...

One thing was certain, Garble thought, he was definitely going to speak to the Elders and Lore Keepers about this young one. Although barely old enough to fly any significant distance, the child had an astonishing ability to shield his mind and "hide," even from his parents (which was why Garble himself had been brought in on the search). A Dragon child with such an ability would make an excellent addition to the Clan Guard when properly trained.

Garble banked left and turned into a new valley even more narrow than the last. Many of the other adults doubted the youngster had the wing stamina to reach such a remote valley. Even among the older Dragon children only the most daring would make the attempt to reach it. Surely it was too far a journey for one so small, but Garble knew better. He had not been any older than this rascal when he first discovered this little valley so many seasons ago. Adult Dragons rarely paid the little valley much attention since it was so far away, held little of interest, and was too narrow to effectively hunt in. But for the younglings it was a different matter entirely. For them it was the thrill of the journey... the excitement of flying so far from the safety of mother and father.... not destination itself that made it an attractive prospect.

Garble smiled to himself as he remembered his own childhood adventure among the tall grasses and thick brush of the valley below. He remembered the warm breezes sweetened with the fragrance of wild flowers and the cool, sweet waters of the narrow stream that flowed through the little valley. He had caught his first rabbit here and had eagerly flown home to show his father what a great hunter he was. Jolinar had confessed much later that he hadn't known whether to scold his son for flying so far from home or praise him for his accomplishment. It was the knowledge of what his mate's reaction would be if Jolinar had done the latter that caused Garble to be confined to the lair for a week!

"By the Winds! I will not allow our children to be denied such adventures of their own because of those filthy Griffons!" Garble vowed to himself. "If it's the last thing I do, I will see an end to these cursed raids."

A sudden flash of movement to his right caught Garble's attention. Dipping his wing tip, he began a shallow spiraling descent and extending his senses Garble began probing the narrow valley below him. The child was here, he was certain. And although the scamp may have learned how to shield himself from his parents, he was quarry for the best hunter in all the Dragon lands!

Again, Garble spotted a hint of movement in a large clump of brush growing near the valley's small stream. The child was undoubtedly aware of Garble's presence overhead and was attempting to conceal himself. Smiling to himself, Garble decided to have a little fun of his own and teach this little Dragon a lesson he would not soon forget. Pumping his great wings, Garble quickly climbed higher into the air once again and flew towards the valley wall directly opposite of the hatchling's hiding place. Giving voice to a very convincing bellow of frustration, Garble soared over the valley rim deliberately angling his body so the sun glinted impressively off of his crimson scales.

Once he knew there was no way the hatchling could see him, and shielding his own mind very tightly, Garble quickly circled back around to the mouth of the valley and slipped back in. No other Dragon could fly as silently as the Guard Leader and Garble now flew as silently as if he were infiltrating the black heart of a demon's domain, skimming just above the valley floor with barely enough speed to keep himself airborne.

Suddenly cupping his wings Garble touched down so softly he didn't even disturb the butterfly sipping nectar from a nearby cluster of wild roses. As softly as fog he crept up behind the little Dragon concealed within the bushes. He could even hear the child laughing softly to himself. Probably rehearsing the story of how he outwitted the mighty leader of the Guard to tell his friends later, Garble thought to himself behind his own very tight shields. Well, under ordinary circumstances Garble might have allowed the child to keep his little "victory," but these were not ordinary circumstances and it was time to teach the child that sometimes obedience was vital to survival.

With lightening quick reflexes, Garble lashed out with a golden-taloned hand and grabbed the little Dragon by the scruff of the neck and pulled him into the open.

"GOTCHA!" he bellowed and heard a satisfying yelp of terror from his now captured quarry. Garble then dropped the hatchling unceremoniously to the ground, legs, wings and tail in a tangled heap.

"So, think you are the clever one do you?" he asked, towering over the frightened child in apparent furor, his own wings spread wide in an imposing spectacle. "So clever that had I been a griffon raiding party you would now be on your way to be sacrificed!" Garble accompanied his words with mental images of the butchered remains of a Dragon child surrounded by dancing griffons and a leering demon.

Stunned by his sudden capture and unable to escape the raw images he was shown, the youngling began to cower and hid his head under one wing. Garble held his position for a moment longer before relenting and furling his own wings along his back. He then sat down next to the child and gently reached over and nuzzled the child's shoulder. Very few had ever seen this side of the aloof Guard leader and even those who knew of it's existence would have been amazed at the radical switch in demeanor.

"Come now, Solan, none of that... not from one with the courage to explore so far from home," Garble said, then added as the little Dragon's head popped up in surprise at hearing his name, "Yes... I know your name. Your parents are very worried. You must understand that your mother and father have good reason to keep you close to them. We are entering a dangerous time... far too dangerous for one as young as you to be wandering around alone."

Garble then sent the hatchling images of his parents in obvious distress when they realized their hatchling had used his abilities to run off. He showed the fear in their eyes as they followed the chief Elder to ask the Guard's assistance in finding the child before disaster could befall him.

"Even now they worry, fearing what may have happened to you for we are too far away for a direct mental sending to reach them." Not that I haven't already had it relayed through my scouts back to them that you are safe, Garble thought very privately to himself. By now Solan was no longer trembling in fear from his capture by the Guard leader. And though his small wings were drooping somewhat is shame for the distress he caused at home, his little head was up and he was looking at Garble with understanding in his eyes.

His young voice trailed off as he choked back a small sob. So contrite was his tone and so disappointed in the knowledge that his explorations were most probably at a permanent end that Garble again did something that would surprise all who did not know the aloof Dragon very well.

"If you will give me your solemn promise that you will never again disobey your parents while living under their care, I will bring you back here one day soon. I know these lands very well and can show you many wonderful places to explore." As Garble spoke, Solan's eyes grew wider and wider and he began excitedly dancing from foot to foot.

"I promise! I promise! I promise!" Solan squeaked in delight.

Laughing at the child's antics Garble reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't get too excited, young one," Garble cautioned. "You are still in trouble and are going to have to accept whatever punishment your parents may impose. It could very well be quite sometime before you are allowed to leave the confines of the lair's immediate surroundings, even in my company."

This news did cause the hatchling's exuberance to diminish, but not to any great extent. And Garble was pleased to note that Solan made no attempts to get the Guard leader to intercede on his behalf with his parents once they returned home. He had done wrong and was willing to accept the consequences. Garble then stood and began walking to the more open end of the valley and Solan immediately followed.

"You go first, little one," Garble said as he nodded skyward.

Once the child was safely aloft Garble leapt into the air himself with seemingly little effort, his rear talons ripping up clumps of dirt and vegetation as his powerful hind legs kicked against the ground. He then positioned himself under the hatchling and caught the child on his broad back. Gliding smoothly, Garble gave Solan a few moments to get settled into position and then began pumping his wings to gain altitude for the journey home.

As they left the little valley behind, Garble remembered his earlier thoughts about speaking to the Clan Elders about this child. He smiled to himself as they flew and thought "Yes, this one would make a fine addition to the Guard and the Dragon lands would be much safer for it. And who knows... maybe one day this little one will take my place."

But for now Garble simply sent a relayed message back to the child's parents.

Their little one was coming home.