Wren, an autumn dragon with a human form, is a guest at Duskhollow castle for the duration of the long winter. Prince Shyler, the eldest son and heir to the throne, befriended her in secret years earlier and has finally brought her to meet other hum...
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Wren snaps up the gift eagerly.
Her human has often brought her items, whether presents or things only to show her but not to keep (to her disappointment). This one is in a thick wooden box laid upon her human bed, the one Shy had given her, but also not to keep, only hers for as long as she remains a guest in his city. She rattles the box, tempted to wrench it open, but instead her nails clatter along the edges in contemplation. Being a human for so long has given her more patience and understanding, and so she's able to tell that this box is very precious and deserves her care while handling it.
Her nails flick up the locks on either side in a near simultaneous clickclick.
She has a number of ideas of what she wishes is inside the box, but when she lifts the lid, she's just... puzzled.
Folds of fabric lift up as if gasping for breath with the release of the box's confines. Fabric? Did he expect her to craft him something? Surely he knew that dragons are better with other challenges.
She lifts the fabric up. Unexpectedly, it unfurls and billows out to reveal the shape of a dress.
Wren hums to herself in delight. Very fine craftsmanship. She admires the delicate weaves and stitching near the bust, the smooth lines of the sleeves, and the way the colour appears to differ depending on the intensity of the firelight. She purrs to feel it brush her soft human skin, delighting in the sleek fabric so unlike her coarse ordinary daytime clothes. If he expected her to wear this from now on, she would not object.
She's so preoccupied with trying to decrypt how this garment is worn that she only notices the note after stepping on it twice.
"Instructions," she sighs with satisfaction, and snatches up the parchment, flicking it open deftly without putting down the dress in her other hand.
It's a letter. She sits on the edge of her bed, pouring over the words her human wrote to her - she thought she came to understand human writing after learning from Shy's journals, but after being presented with bound books written by other people, she realized that Shy's handwriting was not at all as legible as normal human writing. And so it takes her a moment to work out what the paper says.
Dear Wren,
This dress was one that my mother brought with her from her home many years ago. She no longer wears it, but I hope it will fit you. You might have noticed that the people working in the keep have been busy these past few days. Tonight is a celebration of the longest night, and it is also the anniversary of my birth into the world. I hope you will wear this and join me at the celebration. Ask Jayne if you have any problems getting it on. Please be kind to her, she only wants to help.
