Book One: Onnu and Pannu

The Bowl

The dragoness waited for most everyone to feel comfortable with their hold on her wing, before making the ascent. It would never be unanimous, because by the time some of them got a good grip, others would've tired. She just tried for the best odds of survival for the most kin. She didn't go overly slowly, for fear they would grow weary too quickly, and slide off her wings.
   To give them the best chance of holding on, she tried to hold her wings parallel with the ground. It wasn't exactly comfortable--especially with the wings holding small weights along the "arm" bones--which was another reason for her increased speed. She didn't run, but she didn't dawdle, either. It was the equivalent of a human's speed walk. But imagine speed walking with your arms held up and out at an awkward angle, with weighted armbands. It's not easy, but you can do it, if it's quick enough.
   At the rim of the spire she'd been walking, she simply fell forward onto her outstretched wings and parachuted down. When her body left the stone, there was a bit of a bounce, but the kin still had the energy to hold on when she grunted "brace!" There was no time for gentleness. These were tired, hungry people who probably had sore buttocks and legs. Their arms were the only muscles they hadn't overused, and those were running on fumes.
   Her hind legs met ground first, followed shortly by her forelegs. She immediately dropped to her stomach and splayed her wings out to either side. Many kin simply let go and slid down her wing membranes to the ground.
   When the last person was off, she ordered them away, and waited for the non-Draconic speakers to follow the kin who understood the order. Then, before fatigue could try to claim her, she leapt up and grabbed hold of the nearest spire. She couldn't have said how she knew that it would hold her weight, but it did. Up and over, with some flapping when she knew her wings wouldn't scrape more spires, and a slide down the rock.
   She was panting now, which was the first time they'd seen any sign of fatigue. It wasn't rapid, or forceful, but the kin remaining finally realized that she wasn't some immortal being sent to help them. She really had just been a human, turned into a giant dragon.
   Frenetic energy infused the lot of them. They all but leapt into her paws, or onto her back, if they had grasping digits. She hadn't lied; she could have made one more trip, but none of the waiting kin felt willing to risk it.
   "Hup!"
   That was all the warning they got. She heaved up onto her hind legs and trotted bipedal along the rocky projection, parachuted down the same as she had the first time. Not quick, not slow, and as gently as she could manage.
   Miraculously, they didn't seem to have lost a single soul in the process. She didn't know if everyone they'd left the clearing with was standing in the Bowl now, but they all seemed to be intact, if hungry.
   She didn't know how to fix that, but at least they were in a place that appeared safe enough.
   The kin spent the rest of the day exploring the Bowl, which did produce a few small prey items. She supposed they must be the equivalent of mice and snakes, but they weren't any recognizable sort of thing.
   A gargoyle brought her the first creature they'd slain. "Do you think we can eat it?" she asked.
   "How should I know? Even Earth animals didn't always advertise their toxicity. Maybe cook it and see?" She shrugged. "I imagine that's how the first humans discovered what was edible. Well, minus the cooking part, if they hadn't discovered fire yet."
   "Neither have we," the gargoyle pointed out. "I mean, we know what made fire on Earth, but even if those same things work, we don't have any of them."
   The elf next to her timidly asked if she couldn't just breathe fire on it.
   The dragoness cocked her head. "I don't know. Haven't tried yet. Maybe if you find enough potentially edible animals, I can give it a shot. Otherwise, we'll have to see what stones will spark together. Probably oughta try anyway, in case I'm not here for mealtime."
   "But why do we have to wait?" they asked.
   The dragon waited a beat. "I do not know how large or small any fire breath I might have will be. It would be a shame to waste it on one small... snakebatmouse..?"
   The elf thought for a moment, but he didn't say what she thought he would've. "Snakebirdmouse, maybe? I think that's a beak? No feathers, though..."
   "I suppose things will need proper names, at some point," the dragon said. "But first, we'll have to find enough of them to classify--"
   "And eat," the gargoyle finished.
   The dragon laughed. The sound brought every head round. Some of them hadn't interpreted the sound correctly, and tensed in primal fear. The rest were amazed to hear a dragon laugh. For some reason, they simply had not yet imagined what it would sound like.
   When there was a pile of as-yet unidentified or classified animals at her feet, she requested that they move to the sides quite a ways.
   "I don't know if anything will happen, but just in case..."
   The theories on dragons were diverse. One theory suggested something called a Thor's thimble could ignite a spark, and some sort of gas-storing organ had to be somewhere in a dragon's body to produce flammable gases. She decided to try that one first, as it was the most prevalent in books she'd read. If that didn't work, they'd have to see if this planet had limestone, or something like it.
   She squeezed different parts of her innards, with muscle contractions that looked like dry heaves to the kin who had a good view. Ope, that might be the thimble, best not mess with that yet. Hmm, nope. Lungs. Oof, that's gotta be the diaphragm. Ech, do I have a gizzard? Yuck! Hmm, promising. Feels like lung, but thicker? Buh, that's weird.
   She wheezed a puff of something funky colored when she squeezed that organ, so she gnashed what felt like it might be the thimble, and whoosh!
   Now the problem was putting the fire out. They hadn't discovered a water source yet.
   Her friend, who'd always handled hot things as a human without problem, simply flopped onto the flaming pile of meat when he thought it was done. He'd been acting on instinct, as she'd been doing, and it worked!
   "Great, now the food smells like sweaty orc."
   "Ogre!" several of the kin corrected. The belligerent human was nonplussed to find that he was the only person bothered by the method of extinguishing. Everyone else was too hungry to care.
   "I... think I eat grass?"
   "Aw c'mon, it's not that bad. Kinda like squirrel."
   "No, really! The smell of cooking meat just smells... icky. Hey, I wasn't vegetarian, so that's not it."
   The dragoness mildly commented that a creature that was visibly half herbivore could very well be fully herbivorous. "If the bulk of digestion happens in the horse or deer part, why do you think they'd eat meat?"
   "What if we can eat things like cheese or honey, but that gets digested by the human part? Point is, we don't know, but I don't think centaurs eat meat. Maybe fish, if those exist. I'm gonna go try that grass, see if we can even bite through it. If we can, that's a lot of food!"
   The centaur (they would have to get around to naming themselves soon) trotted over to a blade of grass as tall as her flank, knelt down (she hadn't mastered bending forward with the human part yet), and gingerly set her teeth on it. She didn't know that it wouldn't release some sort of protective toxin, or grow spikes, or what. Anything could happen!
   What happened was, it tasted like pea pods.
   "You're joking!"
   "No way!"
   "Lemme try!"
   Kin of all types, the dragon included, found a blade of grass and nibbled on it. Their reactions varied in hilarious ways.
   The centaurs, elves, humans, small folk, and any other omnivore found that they tasted like a variety of green vegetables. Some tasted green beans, others said soy, a handful tasted broccoli. For the dragoness, it was wheatgrass. She didn't mind the taste, but she had to be in the mood for it.
   Orcs, ogres, giants, animalistic kin, anyone leaning toward carnivore tasted everything from bile to actual feces.
   "Babe, I promise, it's fine! They're probably gagging because they eat meat. You're still human, so it'll taste like a vegetable. Look, see? She's eating it just fine."
   The human who'd been fighting the dragon's suggestions the entire day was apparently in a relationship with the elf who'd been relatively agreeable. That was a surprise to the dragon, but not her friend. After all, he'd been a passenger, so he didn't have to focus on their surroundings so much.
   Only when he saw the other human eating grass did he take a bite.
   "That's not green bean, babe. That's lima bean."
   She laughed. "It might taste like a different veggie for different kinds of people. We don't know. Isn't that marvelous? We get to learn and experience so many new things!"
   And this man, who'd been so contrary, simply smiled at his little elf lady and went along with what she said; whether or not he agreed with it.