Chapter Twelve – The Dragon’s Favorite Strays

MURR

I’m learning a great many things about humans from watching Dakotah. I’ve never had an interest in them in the past, and my vague memories of the time before when I was lost in my mind are filled with very negative thoughts about humans. Of wanting to destroy them and rip them to pieces.

I’ve never felt the need to rip Dakotah to pieces, so that part of me is thankfully asleep.

She is strange, though. She makes more noises at her daughter and picks up a long, smooth stick with spikes on the end of it and belts it at her waist. A weapon. Amusing. As if she needs a weapon while with me. A lesser warrior would be insulted, but I understand her unease. She has young to protect. She also grabs a sack and puts the twin-eye-cones around her neck once more. She raised them to her eyes atop the roof and stood like that for a long time, which confused me. Does their presence mean she is returning to the roof?

But no, she heads out the other end of her strange building and starts walking fast.

And because I am not sure what she is up to, I follow. My curiosity always gets the best of me.

Dakotah does not burble more sounds at me as I follow her, but she knows I am with her. I do not try to hide my presence, nor do I shift to battle form to watch her from above. She is nervous around my battle form, preferring my weaker two-legged form. Perhaps because I am less threatening in this puny shape?

She walks and walks, sometimes pulling the cones to her eyes again and turning in a circle in place. A ritual, perhaps?

“Jstuppa hed,” Dakotah’s mouth noises surprise me. She points, and then keeps moving.

Curious, I keep following.

She approaches a new human building of some kind, one that smells musty with misuse. There are tattered scraps of something red hanging from the roof, and it is another strange, square building with many clear walls that somehow do not let the air in. She pushes at a door, and makes angry noises when it does not fall open for her. She pulls out a long metal bar that was in her pack and wedges it into the seam of the door, grunting when it finally slides open far enough for her to go inside.

Then, she waves me in after her.

I shove the door open, ignoring the crashing sound it makes when it shatters, and she stares at me, her mouth falling open. Then she purses her lips and shakes her head, clearly in awe of my strength.

Inside this place, it smells even worse than outside. There is a heavy layer of dust on everything that offends my senses, and the stink of mildew and mold permeates the air. It’s dark inside, and cluttered. Unlike the building that she has claimed for herself, this one is smaller and has a great deal of tumbled things all over the floor. A hole in the ceiling drips murky water from above.

Dakotah makes a dismayed sound as she surveys the place, and then sighs heavily and goes deeper inside. Curious, I follow after her. What is it she’s seeking?

There are long rectangles toppled on their sides all over the floor. Shelves of some kind, I decide, because she hefts one up and things spill off of it as she does. She seems to be looking for something specific, as she kneels down and picks through the items on the floor, brushing aside leaves and detritus and lifting what looks like a cylinder. She squints at it and then screws the lid off and sniffs it, then puts it in her bag. Another cylinder she sniffs and tosses aside, then digs through the rubble a bit more.

I squat next to her and pick through the mess on the ground, looking for more of the strange cylinders she’s interested in. When I find one, I hold it up and offer it to her. She shakes her head without even sniffing this one. “Snogood,” she burbles. “Butdankyoo.”

Her mouth sounds encourage me. Perhaps I am doing this right. I pick up another thing from the ground – this one a small box wet with rainwater. Something shakes inside it, so I hold it out to her.

Dakotah chuckles and takes it from me. “Dankyoo.”

I pick up another and hold it out to her.

Her lips purse, and I can tell she’s trying not to laugh. She looks around, then spots something and climbs over the mess to pick it up. It’s square and red – a basket – and she sets it down atop the mess and indicates it. “Inheer.”

I don’t follow what she’s saying. When she indicates the basket again, I pick it up, trying to see what it is she sees. There’s nothing inside.

Dakotah giggles again. She sets the basket down once more, and then puts the little cylinder and the small box inside it. “Inheer.”

Ah. Something to carry our treasures. “Ineeer,” I try, mimicking her sounds. When she nods, I feel both relief and frustration. Human sounds are so difficult. I miss the simple touch of minds and instant understanding. Cautiously, I try to send my thoughts to her and meet nothing. The loneliness of it all threatens to overwhelm me again and I bury my face in my hands. The loss is overwhelming sometimes. I’ve lost my home, my memories, my people–

Dakotah exclaims, holding up another small cylinder with excitement. She taps on it, then shows it to me, her teeth bared with enthusiasm. “Salt!”

“Zzaaalfff?” I mimic.

“Salt,” she replies again, pointing at her pink mouth as she does. I watch her lips, fascinated by the way they move. They look….soft. Pleasant. All of her looks soft, actually.

I give her a speculative glance, seeing Dakotah as a female now instead of just a human. It has been a long time since I have touched one. How does mating even work without a mental connection? What does it even feel like?

“Salt,” she says again, not realizing I am not paying attention to the mouth noises anymore.

Instead of echoing her, I reach out and cup her chin, brushing my thumb claw over her lower lip. It is just as soft as it looks. Her eyes widen and she goes stiff.

Not a welcome touch, then. Ah well. I lower my hand.

Dakotah watches me for a moment, and then goes back to digging. Her movements are jerky and she avoids looking at me, so I decide to give her space. I get to my feet and stretch, then move deeper into this curious dwelling. I am not entirely sure the purpose of it, but that is the case for a lot of human-made buildings. I have no idea what they are meant to be.

The musty smell grows thicker as I venture towards the back of the building. There’s a hint of something else in the air, something acrid that I find unpleasant and chemical, and it’s coming from a room in the back behind a leaf-and-dust strewn counter. I avoid it, moving to lift another shelf to help Dakotah out.

And that’s when I see the stranger standing nearby.

I hiss in surprise and lash out with my claws, thoughts racing. Why didn’t I smell him? Why didn’t I hear his subtle movements the way I should have?

But the man crumbles, breaking in half and falling to the floor in two long, flat pieces.

Now…I’m just confused.