Be a Veterinarian for dragons, they said. It'll be fun they said...
Chase broke the bottle handle again and swore as the pieces all fell betwixt the hay underneath his feet. That would be difficult to pick up and find again and he did not have time to forget like he usually did and have his feet cut to ribbons the next time he came into the shed. Not that he should be barefoot in the first place but the boots he wore to protect himself from the Hungarian were uncomfortable. He glanced at his hand now covered in a syrupy substance and took a step back. The floor clinked as he moved, the glass betraying its hiding place. Running his hands in the trough next to the door, Chase moved out the broken door to the outside. The blue gray sky burned into his eyes making him squint despite having no sunshine. The sky this time of year burned unusually bright like a single piece of blank paper despite having almost total cloud coverage. The squinting slowed his pace as he wove through the rusted farm equipment, shards of what the Hungarian had done the last time he was ill with the flu. Or whatever the dragon got instead of the flu.
"Doctor Wallace! He's throwing up again!" this hysterical woman wailed from halfway across the scorched field. Chase resisted rolling his eyes, his other hand now searching his pocket. Panic set in briefly as he fumbled through the deep pocket, the trinkets shifting around his calloused fingers. If he could not find his gloves, the Hungarian might scorch him. The serpent growled loudly, belching what could only be lamb from the scent of it all in front of him. The pieces scattered in the stiff wind, peppering the blackened stalks around him like landmines. Chase carefully stepped over a grisly chunk and breathed a sigh of relief as his fingers grazed the dragonhide gloves hidden deep within his inside pocket. Far off in the distance, he spotted Mabel, his sister, with her arms folded over her chest. Her tanned apron flitted in the wind past her unmovable body, her gray eyes matching the sky. Her face set in its natural stoic expression-she stared unflinchingly at the greenish dragon. The dragon saw Chase coming, his spikes raising as he snarled and threw back his head. Chase stopped in his footsteps, waiting until the dragon snapped forward to continue walking. The shackle that chained him to the spot kept his entire body belly flat to the ground. His head snapping out to take a chunk out of Chase stopped short by a yard. He attempted to belch his flames from his slithering neck but nothing came out but a gasp. The Hungarian glared at Chase before sulking back into a retreat. Chase worked quickly behind the Hungarian, making sure that the creature could see what he was doing. He slipped the dragonhide gloves on before sticking a large metal rod somewhere near the thing's leg. He shrieked and writhed his neck wildly in the air, thus earning Chase a chastisement from the hysterical woman.
"This isn't worth it," Chase muttered, shoving his back into the plunger of the syringe. The rod hissed as it broke through the chinking of the monster's scales. The head wobbled for a bit as the drug flooded the dragon's system.
"What are you doing?"
"Momma, do stop. The poor doctor is already doing his best. Besides, Chauncey isn't exactly as well trained as that trainer made him to be. Doctor Wallace is trying not to get eaten."
Chase turned quickly to survey this voice, a musical alto, her tone soft. She stood beside the older woman, porcelain skin and glossy raven hair a sharp contrast to the mousy blond, tanned woman. At least the woman seemed to exercise her pet...
He turned back to his work, making small taps and surveying the muscle spasms before hopping nimbly on the stunned dragon's back. He gave a shudder, nearly knocking Chase off of his new foothold. He climbed closer to the head, a mistake if the drugs hadn't nearly knocked the serpent out.
"Look, how curious, momma. The doctor has actual talent and skill unlike the last one that was eaten."
This didn't exactly reassure Chase but he could imagine Mabel glaring at this vixen talking so quietly but with such a distinct voice. This also seemed to soothe the dragon who laid his head back on his own hide, very nearly hitting Chase. He seemed ready for a nap which Chase gladly gave him room to do. Grasping the stone like pill in one hand, Chase leapt forward quickly to grab the horned snout and yank up before throwing the stone in. As soon as the dragon snapped his jaw shut, Chase sprang off the back and out of reach before the dragon realized what had happened. Steam began pouring out of his nostrils before he yawned widely to release the tension. The serpent began shaking, the smoke coming out of every orifice.
"What's happening?!" wailed the woman but the dark haired daughter shushed her and laid a protective arm around her mother's shaking shoulders. The dragon yawned widely, the flare of his anger gone as he sank into his nap position and curled up like a dog. He slept soundly, the smoke clearing and the green retreating to his tail where the infection had started. The drugs now wearing into his body, Chase's job was done.
He walked around to the family and gave the raven daughter a once over before smiling slightly at the mother.
"He's fine now, ma'am. He will most likely sleep for the next three days, thus healing his entire system and expelling this infection. Please do not come back before then as your voice may trigger him to wake again and become sick. My sister Mabel will take your payment up at the house. I will see you in three days."
The daughter gave Chase the barest hint of a nod before steadily meeting his eyes.
This is what made the job worth it, Chase considered to himself, nearly smiling at her before he realized her mother was still watching him.
"Persephone," the girl said, extending her long delicate fingers. Chase unhooked his gloves from his sleeves and shook her hand.
"Chase."
She smiled then, nothing weak about it but rather curious and determined. Chase smiled back. He would've taken the dragon over her mother though.
