He pushed through the snow, weary and hungered. His trembling hands felt for his scarf, which he pulled tightly towards his face. With a shudder, he took another step into the snow.
Cold. Wet. Thick.
His foot immediately sank in, bringing more moisture into his already drenched boot. He lifted his other foot, shaking off the weight of ice on it. That, too, was pushed into the ground ahead of him, all the while the wind howling like an injured wolf pup.
His stomach demanded meaning from him, which he responded to with a gentle pat and a longing to be home. With another step, and a wobble he could only just steady, he took in another breath.
The frigid air made it feel as though he was swallowing shards of broken glass with every breath. Coughing only made it worse; his throat would explode with cold and sickness, the shards seeping into his neck. He grasped his jacket, wishing there was some way to make it thicker.
A rustling came from the shrubbery around him. Please don't eat me, he willed whatever creature was there. For a moment he thought of eating it, then shook that off and continued his journey.
Left.
Right.
Le- Left.
Right. Steady, right.
His eyelids sank into his sockets. A quick rest wouldn't hurt. He stood still for a moment, trying to regain his balance. He no longer had feeling in his fingers, and his feet felt like giant erasers.
Suddenly, he collapsed. Above him a large figure approached, curious. It was indiscernible in the frosty air, but he immediately could tell what it was.
A dragon.
It sniffed him, giving a smoky snort. This little beastling is not adapted for winter at all. It gently poked at him with its paws, turning him over. Through his jacket he could feel the creature's body heat, the only warmth he had known for a long time. The contact was brief, but he longed for more. Shivering, he lifted up his frostbitten hand to touch the dragon. He could not carry it farther than a few inches, and it fell to the ground.
The dragon knew its options. A, it could kill the boy, and have a light snack. B, it could light a fire, and potentially be attacked. C, it could leave, gaining and losing absolutely nothing. But the beastling was just a child, and certainly no match for her massive claws, so she blew gently on a shrub near to the boy, the flame sparkling in the snow. She lifted the child and placed him near to it.
Soon he would regain his strength. Soon he would give her a name. Soon they would form an unbreakable bond that would change the course of both their lives forever.
But, knowing none of this, the dragon laid tenderly nearby and slept.
And waited.
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