Mythfits

22- Ella

For a minute, all I can think of is Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Owww! As my ankle burns white hot with pain and I mentally curse all the hunters who ever thought that putting sharp, strong traps out in the middle of the woods where anyone might stumble into them. Finally, when I regain enough rational brain power to think coherently, I inspect my ankle, noting with extreme displeasure the deep gouge marks where the teeth of the trap caught my flesh.

Gritting my teeth, I attempt to gently pull my foot out of the trap, causing my vision to cloud and my ears to roar in pain. Trying to block out the pain, I try to focus on the trap; how it is built, what keeps it closed, and most importantly- how I can get out of it. Bending down to inspect it, I soon discover that my virtually non existent understanding of how such contraptions work is woefully inadequate. I identify a spring that probably has to do with it opening and closing and some important-looking screws and levers that should be doing something, none of which are labeled as Push Here To Escape.

After trying to pry open the jaws by hand (which doesn't work by the way), I follow the chain attaching the trap to a nearby tree. Grumbling under my breath about inconsiderate hunters not taking into account innocent teenagers stumbling into their traps, I limp over to the tree, managing to smack myself in the face with a tree branch in the rapidly fading light.

Unfortunately, the same hunter who failed to mark an emergency release switch on the trap also padlocked the chain around the tree. Thank you ever so much, hunter-person. Tugging half heartedly on the padlock, I growl in frustration- I just can't seem to catch a break. 

The sound of snapping twigs and crackling leaves behind me alerts me to the fact that- surprise surprise- something is coming, and will probably try to eat me. Sure enough, a scaley lizard thing with six legs and a large frill, like the frilled-neck lizard comes out from behind a boulder. The size of a mastiff, it has dark green scales with red accents. The strangest thing about it, besides the fact that it's a giant lizard with six legs, was that it wore a pair of slightly broken wraparound sunglasses. What? I thought, my already incoherent thought process doing a double take.

Crouching slightly, I braced myself for an attack, not that there's much I can do if it does- I have my foot in a trap and am chained to a tree. But instead of breathing fire, lunging at me, or attempting to do anything that resembles trying to kill me, it stretches like a dog, front paws forward, and lays down in the leaves. With it's head tilted slightly to the side, it looks almost inquisitive, like- why is there a random person in my woods. 

"What the heck?" I mutter out loud, "My leg is bleeding semi-profusely, I'm chained to a tree, and now there's a giant lizard." 

"Why did you puts your foot in the trap?" when the lizard speaks, I just raise my eyebrows, so far beyond my capacity for comprehending the impossible. 

"Oh, I don't know, I was just taking a stroll in the woods at night and decided, you know what would be fun? Sticking my leg in a metal trap chained to a tree so I'm stuck out here ALL NIGHT." I retort, not caring that I was talking back to a lizard that probably 'doesn't exist'. 

"Why would that be fun?" The lizard asks, it's voice dry and whisper-y, but somehow laced with innocence. 

"It's not." I snap, then stop with my mouth open to continue, mental gears clicking into place. Giant lizard. Six legs. The woods. I am so stupid. "Are you a basilisk?" I ask, not really knowing what to expect the answer to be. If it- she-he say's yes, it means that I've found a basilisk- problem solved! But is also means that there is a basilisk in the woods and I'm chained to a tree (read: free dinner). If she (it seems like a she, so I'm going to go with it) say's she's not a basilisk, then there is a talking six-legged giant lizard in the woods, and I'm chained to a tree (again: free lunch). So either way, I have a major problem. 

The lizard smiles, which is not an expression I had ever thought I would see on a reptile. "Yep!" she chirps, padding over to me like a puppy, "I'm Rose." Inspecting my foot, she stared up at me, the last shreds of sunlight reflecting off her lopsided sunglasses, "You's bleeding."

"That I am." I respond dryly, "That is very perceptive of you."

"Does you's need help." She asks, and I immediately bristle at the question

"N-" I start then mentally slap myself- I am lost in the woods, in the middle of the night, injured, and chained to a tree; I should probably accept any help I can get. "Yes, I do." I grumble, still not happy at admitting weakness.

Rose starts to bend near the trap, then pauses, "If I helps you, can I come with you's?" 

"Yes." At this point, I just want to get home.

As I watch curiously, Rose licks her claws and scratches the hinges of the trap. As soon as her claws touch the metal, the metal starts to hiss and corrode. Making a mental note to never get scratched by a basilisk, I tug my foot out of the trap as soon as I can, scraping the wound in the process. Ouch. 

"You don't happen to know the way out of the woods, do you?" I ask Rose, who was happily chewing on the remains of the trap like a teething puppy. 

"This way!" She exclaims, bounding off into the woods excitedly, with me limping after as fast as I can. What the heck, I shrug, other people have dogs; mine's just large, talking, reptilian and could kill you four different ways. Why not?