Purpose.
That’s all Moon wishes for as he lazes in the warm grass, his scaly body draped in the only sunny spot in the entire forest. Birdsong fills his ears as he closes his eyes, letting the sweet smells of flowers and morning dew fill his nostrils.
Life isn’t very fun without some sort of purpose.
When Derek was alive, he had a purpose, but now all he’s left with is a numb heart. The feisty young ginger boy had been snatched from the claws of life far too early, and because of that, Moon is alone.
He huffs, a thin column of grey smoke flowing from his half-closed mouth. His golden eyes fly open at the sound of rustling directly in front of him. Baring his teeth at the emerald green bushes, he barks out a warning to whatever might be hiding behind the thick foliage. It definitely wasn’t a woodland rabbit or bird.
The rustling continues, more ferociously this time, making Moon back away until his rump grazes the tree bark behind him, scuffing his black and cream scales. For days he had watched this area like a hawk, making sure that no other dragon had claimed this territory as its own. He was so sure that there was no scent markers or scratched bark, could he have been wrong?
A tiny, square orange head peeks out from the bush, a twig sticking out of its ear. The orange dragon breaks out into a large grin at the sight of the older dragon before plunging back into the sea of leaves. Baffled, Moon approaches the bush, sticking his snout amidst the leaves to get a whiff of the young dragon. Mumbling a few questions to the bush dragon, he’s surprised to get several squeaks of reply from other bushes as well. Just as he steps back into the clearing, four tiny bodies slam into him from different angles.
Moon yelps in surprise but is able to calm his beating heart when the tiny dragons screech about getting to ride the large dragon. Shaking himself like a wet dog, Moon is able to dislodge all but one of the small dragons, who clings to his wing with it’s tiny claws. The remaining dragon is able to scramble onto his back, squeaking with pride. The rest of the group bark victoriously at his feet as the small dragon perches itself on his head, its silver feet crushing his snout. With a huff, Moon dips his head forward, causing the little white dragon to tumble onto the grassy floor with its feet and tail bolt upright like a kitten ready to play.
He wasn’t aware that younglings were around here.
They don’t look like locals, they must be visitors, like him.
Moon growls as the young dragons approach him again, only to flatten their ears at his warning. The orange dragon from before introduces himself as Fireball, fluttering his garish yellow wings. With a flippant flick of his tail, Moon settles back under his tree again, back turned to his annoying guests. The four dragon press right against his head, each with a toothy smile plastered to their bright faces. Moon rolls his golden eyes and closes them, ready to sleep, but a second later they flutter open when one of the younglings snuggles into his stomach. The green male with red wings looks up at him lovingly, resting his head on Moon’s belly.
With a sigh, Moon asks them what they want. Happy to have the attention back, Fireball chirps out the names of the remaining members: the white female is Prissy, the male with the clubbed tail is Steve and the one snuggled up to him is Tres. He briefly wonders what sort of name that is, until he glances down at the green dragon, who has a small stump where his left front foot should be. Now that he’s actually looking at them properly, it’s obvious they are all too young to be by themselves. They probably couldn’t even hunt yet.
He asks the ragtag group where their human companions are, which makes them all droop their heads sadly. It didn’t take a genius to know that they were gone.
Probably taken by war, like Derek. Such a waste of life.
With an irritable sigh, he realises why the younglings have taken such a shine to him. They needed someone to help them survive. Although the forest is generally safe, it only took one mean dragon to scar the little group for life.
For a minute he thinks about sending them away, until he looks down at Tres, clearly the youngest due to his tiny stature. The green dragon stares at him with hopeful crimson eyes, clutching his belly scales as if the older dragon would just disappear.
With a defeated sigh, Moon mumbles that the younglings can stay with him for a while. Four happy tails shoot up into the air and most of the group let out excitable yaps.
He supposed they could be his entertainment for a while.
***
Excited yips rouse Moon from his slumber. For a second he’s confused, until he remembers the younglings that he, quite literally, took under his wing yesterday.
Four excited faces stare back at him, their eyes sparkling in the sunlight. He looks up at their tiny faces, covered in beautiful colourful dotted markings from their human companions. Whenever a dragon is paired with a human, they inherit markings from that human that correspond to their element. Moon never did find out how, or why, these markings appeared with human companionship. But, he supposed he didn’t care when Derek was there to make him happy. Now that their humans are gone however, the markings will just be doomed to be unfinished mosaics.
The younglings complain about their empty bellies, prodding the large dragon on the snout. Moon rises to his feet with a stretch and casts his head around the clearing, breathing in the crisp morning air. The earth around his feet is damp and mushy from a light rain, and the green grass is covered in a layer of cool morning dew. Not the best time for hunting, but it would have to do.
Fireball chirps impatiently, wanting the older dragon to do something. Moon sweeps the younglings behind him with his tail and trots into the foliage, getting swallowed by the clumps of wet leaves and aromatic flowers. The younglings leap around his feet, tumbling and batting each other playfully. Moon smiles slightly as he watches the white female, Prissy, tackle Steve from behind and press his grey face into the thick sludge of forest mud.
A low growl up ahead makes Moon freeze in his tracks and spread his cream wings in an attack stance. In front of the ragtag group is a bulky navy blue dragon with one single sunny yellow eye. The dragon’s flank is covered in pink scars where the scales haven’t grown back, and the spikes on his tail are chipped and broken at different angles. A wave of fear ripples through Moon’s body, but he tries his hardest to ignore it when the younglings huddle around his legs. The strange dragon looks at each of the four younglings hungrily, licking his lips with a slimy grey tongue. Moon digs his claws into the earth, unsure of whether it would be wise to start a fight with the older dragon.
Before Moon has the chance to back away, the blue dragon leaps, claws outstretched. Left with no choice but to fight, Moon sweeps the younglings away with his tail and prepares himself as the battle-scarred dragon knocks him off his feet, sending him sprawling backwards in a scaly mess. With a harsh growl, Moon rolls to his feet, drenching himself in the heavy mud and opens his mouth wide in a roar, orange flames licking hungrily at the back of his throat. The other dragon just scoffs and plucks Steve off the ground with a dull claw. The grey youngling squeaks and manages to wriggle free, skulking into the bushes to safety.
Smoke rises from Moon’s nostrils like a chimney as a funnel of orange flames slam his opponent’s side, making him cry out in surprise. The black and cream dragon then jumps into the air, landing clumsily on the other dragon’s wing. He digs his claws in, smirking when the other dragon yelps in pain. The other dragon bellows and bucks him off, giving Moon only a second to catch his breath before the dragon barrels into him.
Hot breath that smells like rotten meat assaults his nostrils as the older dragon glares down at him with his one hate-filled yellow eye. Moon flattens his ears, unable to hide the waves of fear creeping through his body.
This dragon could kill him.
He only hoped that Derek would be on the other side, if there was one, to greet him.
The thought makes Moon relax slightly, knowing that his time in the world is up. At least he’ll have someone looking forward to seeing him. Slain in battle, as Derek once was.
Dribble escapes the dragon’s lips, his grey tongue darting between his chipped teeth, taunting Moon. Just when he prepares himself for the killing blow, a fireball strikes his opponent on the side of the head, tearing blue scales off his cheek. The dragon roars in a mixture of anger and shock and staggers off Moon, allowing him to crawl away. Much to his surprise, Fireball leaps onto Moon’s shoulders, spreading his bright yellow wings to threaten the other dragon.
Moon growls a warning as his opponent eyes each youngling up. The blue dragon scoffs and stumbles away, his cheek sizzling and inflamed from the heat of the attack. Once the other dragon wanders out of sight into the trees, Moon relaxes and lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding.
He’s alive.
Fireball bounces in front of Moon, a toothy grin on his face. The other younglings crowd around them, yapping about how cool the fight was and how brave they are. Moon chuckles and sits up, allowing the younglings to snuggle up to his feet.
Steve and Tres attempt to replicate the roars from the fight, but they only come out as tiny squeaks. Prissy looks up at him, her grassy green eyes filled with gratitude. Moon feels a wave of pride spread through him, he gave these younglings a fighting chance at surviving.
They need him.
They want to stay with him.
With Derek gone, company is always nice. Maybe he had grown bitter in his years alone. As he looks down at the younglings, his heart swells.
Moon asks the younglings with a low bark if they would like to stay with him permanently, and they all agree excitedly. The four of them start squeaking at each other, replicating his attack stance and battle moves.
Maybe looking after them could be his purpose.
