Misfits of Vernada ~Wattys2016~

X

By creepakilla

Zappy

Zappy attempted to lie still, but he was shaking uncontrollably, his breathing raspy and uneven. His head throbbed and he could see nothing: something was covering his eyes.

He heard sclaw-steps advancing toward him and his breathing quickened even more until he thought his heart would leap out of his chest.

Something snuffled noisily at his head and he heard a voice speak: "Oh, look at 'im, he's only a hatchling, Target. And a misfit, can't we let 'im go? Poor kiddo's gonna have a heart-attack!"

Another dragon approached and stood nearby. "He looks like..." her voice trailed off.

"Alright, release him," she said after a minute. "He's no harm to us."

The instant he could see, Zappy leapt to his feet and backed toward a nearby tree-trunk, frill raised in intense fear, but ready to try defend himself, even if his head was throbbing so much he could barely stand.

He was inside a stand of trees that grew so close together they formed a round hall, and they met overhead so thickly that they made an impenetrable roof that only fire could get through or destroy, and several other dragons were with him. He realized suddenly, that half of the dragons were Stormriders and the others were Sharpshooters!

What on earth?

The other dragons only looked amused at his 'threatening' stance, and a bright blue Sharpshooter patted his head, as if pleased.

"Well done, kiddo," he remarked, "you'll fit in well."

Zappy lowered his tail and collapsed down again, overwhelmed with sickness, weariness, and the sheer lunacy of Stormriders and Sharpshooters being together—well, apart from him and Moon.

"Wh-what's going on?" he croaked, shaking his head in bewilderment.

A chuckle ran through the room, and Zappy hid behind his wing, embarrassed.

"Flare," he heard the blue dragon call, "come look at this li'l'un we found."

A moment later, curious, Zappy peeped over his wing to see the most beautiful dragon he had ever laid eyes on pacing toward him. Her scales shimmered golden and bronze as she moved with a peculiar feline grace. And there was an indescribable something more about her. The Sharpshooter looked beautiful but deadly.

Zappy stared, overcome, he had a strange feeling toward her that he had never experienced before and couldn't explain. He felt a slight sense of recognition and I strange feeling of home.

"Welcome, young one," she said kindly but solemnly and with a certain gentle dignity as she gazed at him with an unsettling intensity, "this must be stressing for you. But do not fear, we, too have been banished from our homes, and have learned to live with the enemy tribe. That is why you see us together. Strange, I know." She smiled slightly, and her expression changed as he smiled back, she looked unbelieving but joyful at the same time.

She whipped around to face a nearby, forest-green Stormrider. "Target," she said, "I need to take him to my husband at once."

The other dragons in the room cheered, grinning, and Target nodded, with the shade of a smile, "Of course, Flare," she said. And then, as if remembering something, turned to Zappy, "Sorry for that crack to your noggin, small one: it was more powerful than I expected let alone you."

Zappy growled slightly, and, staggering to his feet, followed Flare out of the small doorway where a tree-trunk had been burnt away. He groaned, suddenly, as his head gave an unexpected throb, then looked up, surprised to see that they were still in a tree.

Flare turned to him. "This is the corridor to the outside, but I must say, you are in the WildWoods, so take care," she told him. "Since you have been banished, you must now overcome your hate and fear of Stormriders if you wish to survive-"

"I don't hate Stormriders," Zappy protested, "I just hate the clonks they give." He rubbed the lump on the back of his head and immediately regretted it.

Flare laughed, and gave him another strange look, "Good. That's all you need to know for now.

"Come."

Zappy followed the older dragon down the corridor, between the guards, and out into the tree and dragon filled forest. They walked on, weaving among the trees and up a hill to another ring of close-growing trees. They entered through the thickest tree and walked down the tidy, cleverly-made hall to a small room off the side.

"Wait here," Flare told him. "I just need to speak with my husband, Vertigo."

Zappy lay down again to ease the pain in his head and inspected the room: it was quite nice, actually, no decorations, but it looked fancy anyway because it was chiseled out of the tree itself. The wood was strangely smooth, too, ground with some sort of tool to give it a silk-like quality.

He liked the WildWoods, which was a completely unexpected feeling, considering it was the deadliest place in Vernada. Only, maybe it wasn't, Flare and her companions seemed quite comfortable here.

Zappy realized that he wanted to tell Flare about Moon—which he felt a little guilty about, considering he hadn't even told his own mother. She wouldn't care, or hate him for it, and he had the feeling that everyone knowing that his nest-mate was a Stormrider—and that they were actually friends—would have the complete opposite effect to what it would have in the Sharpshooter village.

"Oo, that looks a bit nasty," a voice said suddenly, and Zappy glanced up to see a golden Sharpshooter inspecting his injured head with a similar expression to Flare's intense gaze, "who did that?"

"Target," Flare said, her expression resigned.

Vertigo snorted, "Of course, should've guessed it."

"What do you think?" Flare asked, after a minute or two of both the adults scrutinizing Zappy.

"I think you're right, Flare."

A look of joy crept over Flare's snout, "Finally!" she crowed.

"What?" Zappy asked, confused. They were hurting his head.

"I know this is weird," Vertigo began, grinning, "but, you're our hatchling."

Zappy leapt to his sclaws, hardly noticing his head, "What?"