Chapter Thirty-Eight – The Dragon’s Favorite Strays
Chapter Thirty-Eight
MURR
I soak up the sunshine atop the roof, and down below, I hear the comforting babble of human language. Out of habit, I push my thoughts towards Dakota, trying to make contact with her mind. I get nothing in return, but that’s not surprising. Whatever ability I used to have is completely gone. It’s no longer a sharp pain of loneliness, but more of a dull ache. Hearing their mouth sounds as they talk over one another has grown oddly comforting. I can listen and know they are there nearby, safe and happy because of the tone of their voices. Ribbit exclaims something, breaking into an argument with Doh-dee and Ah-gee, and then they all laugh.
Metal creaks, and Dakotah’s scent drifts up towards me, moving closer. Interesting.
Opening one eye, I watch as she approaches. There’s a nervous scent enveloping her and she wipes her hands on her covered limbs. She seems uneasy, taking slow steps in my direction. “Hi Murr.”
I lift my head and nuzzle her hair in greeting, since she cannot sense my thoughts. Her scent drifts through the air, sweet and appealing. I want to drink all of it in. My fangs tingle, as if suggesting that I should give her a mating bite and claim her as mine.
But I am a broken drakoni. I cannot communicate with my people, with anyone. She deserves better, and I run my tongue over my chops until the tingling ceases.
She touches my nose with her hand, her fingers trembling. “Murr, canwi tokk?”
‘Tokk’ is the sound they use for mouth noises, for conversation. She wants me to make mouth noises with her. I’m pleased that she has sought me out, and I immediately shift into my two-legged form. The sun feels different on my limbs now, and I stretch, easing my muscles, and scratch absently at my chest as I watch her reaction.
The fear scent in her dissipates. A smile lifts her expression and she looks happy to see me. Her gaze roams over my body, flicking downward before moving immediately back up again. Is she checking that I am wearing her loin wrap? Or is she pleased that I am exposed to her because it is just the two of us? I slide my hand down my waist, toward my cock, to see her reaction.
Dakotah immediately turns away. “Tokk,” she says in a high-sounding tone. She marches a few steps away and sits down, crossing her legs in front of her.
Very well, no loin interest today. I fight back a surge of disappointment, because I have clearly misread her again. I move to sit across from her, mimicking her pose. “Murr tokk.”
Her face flushes with heat and she keeps her gaze locked on my face. She says a few sounds and then ends with one I recognize. “…man?”
This is the word for the male. Perhaps we are discussing genitals after all. I indicate mine. “Murr man.”
“Yikes! Murr!”
“Yike,” I echo, puzzled. What does this mean? “Murr.”
She flutters a hand in front of her face. “No, no. Nodder man.” When I tilt my head, she thinks, casting her gaze around as if searching for something. She picks up two pebbles and holds them in front of her. Dakotah sets one down. “Murr man.” Then she sets the other one down. “Man.”
There is another male nearby? She has smelled him too, then? “No Murr,” I agree, touching the second pebble. “Bad man.” I touch my nose and sniff with exaggeration. “Murr nose.”
“U smellim?” She asks, startled. She makes the sniffing noise and taps her nose. “Smell?”
I nod. “Murr smell man.”
Dakotah gestures at the ground, panicked. “Here? Now?”
I can tell from her anxiety that she thinks he is nearby. I do not have the sounds to tell her it was days ago. I scramble through my small vocabulary, thinking of ways to show passing time. “Sun…sun. Man.”
She lifts two fingers. “Toodaze ago?”
I follow her gesture, lifting two fingers as well. “Sun.”
Dakotah relaxes, putting a hand to her chest and letting out a laugh full of relief. “Dankgawd.”
“Murr…hunt man?” I ask. “Big meat?”
She pauses, eyes widening. “No meat. No hunt. Weneed Man tokk.”
“Man…tokk,” I echo, confused. Why?
Dakotah starts gesturing, mimicking a variety of things with her arms and making faces. It’s clear she is trying to tell me why she wishes to talk to this male, but I find her movements distracting. She purses her lips and tries to scowl, bends her arms and swings them, and then puts her hands in the air and mocks claws and growls, then points at me. “You. No hunt, just…” and then she growls again. “Murr rawr. No hunt. Rawr.”
“Rawr?” I curl my claws, confused. She wants me to scratch him?
“Murr rawr,” she agrees, and mimics something else next. “Man…eek!” She pretends to be scared.
It dawns on me. She wants me to scare the male. I puff out my chest and let a curl of smoke escape my nostrils, rumbling menacingly. “Murr?” Then I smooth all of this away and point at her. “Dakotah tokk man?”
Dakotah claps her hands with excitement. She laughs with delight. “Yes! Yes datsit!”
I clap my hands together, mimicking her again, and then wait for her to answer what this means. I do it a second time and use the sound they have in the past. “Watdis?”
She reaches out and puts her hands over mine to stop me. Her gaze drops to our joined hands, and her thumb moves over my skin. “Issa clap,” she breathes, then traces a finger down my thumb to one of my claws. “Issa happee noyz.”
I am not paying attention to her sounds. My entire focus is on her touch, the soft fingers moving over my skin.
