Watch The Sparks Fly

Local Cryptids

NOTES: AU | First person | not on timeline

has potential to be incorporated into the canonical timeline, as a new character's pov. IF INCLUDED, two new characters will be added to the gang (narrator + "banana peel")

incomplete (?)

———

You meet it one chilly evening, as the sun sets beyond the tundra's steep cliffs. You look away and it's gone. You blink, and suddenly it's back, sitting in a tree a hundred feet away. Your eyes meet.

It's different. It looks normal, but it's different. It's not from here, judging from its light clothes and opaque coloring — everything in Blood Tundra is either white or red or brown. For a moment you wonder if this thing is just a figment of your imagination.

It disappears in the next moment, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

———

You meet again, but this time something has changed. It comes with a friend, a buddy. You take a break from the notorious task of collecting Delite and turn to face them both.

Courage and stupidity are the same thing, but you feel safe, surrounded by reeds and other harvesters. So you hold your head high, puff your chest, and meet their eyes.

It may be a trick of light, but you are sure you saw a sharp grin before both of them vanish from sight.

———

It takes a while for you to see them again. They, as in singular. You spent enough time thinking about the duo to decide 'it' as a pronoun was perhaps a little... insulting. So 'them' worked much better.

You look up from your parchment. They stand mere feet away, their eyes flickering to glance at the paper, then back at you.

"It's not my final draft," you blurt out, then promptly regret it. The birch gives lots of cover from the Lakeroot sun, but you don't feel so comfortable anymore.

Their eyes gain a new light that can only be classified as amusement. And then they're gone again.

———

"It's a dragon," you tell your friend later that day, while both of you try to get tipsy on orange juice. He eyes you in a way that suggests unhealthy amounts of skepticism.

"There are nine dragons at this counter alone," he says dryly, signaling the bartender for more juice.

"Very funny. Don't patronize me, banana peel. It was a different dragon."

He seems to get the tiniest bit more interested. Either that, or he's just pretending. "So, this dragon got a new type of head?"

"Well, no, they look just like the other dragons. Identical, actually. Though their color scheme is much nicer."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I should've guessed they looked ordinary when you said you were different," comes the sarcastic remark and begrudgingly, you realise that you should've worded it better. "For a writer, you sure can't talk today."

"Shut up, banana peel. They felt different, you know? You see them and you just know."

"Yep. Just like how I know you got drunk on ju— ow!"

He deserved that punch.

———

The second buddy visits again. This time it's in a dark alley, as you're trying to find your way back on the main street. Two glowing embers stare at you from the corner of your eye and almost give you a heart attack.