Rekindled ~ A Kremé Tale

Part 2

Killer's P.O.V.

The sky was ablaze with burning hues, and the songs of the birds had given way to the hum of insects as they took to the sky. I had situated myself at the base of one of the trees that rimmed the clearing and sat there in wait till the small stranger came back. If he came back that is. 

He wasn't like most of the people I had met as far as first impressions go. He wasn't the most intimidating soul I had seen, by far, but he carried with him a sort of light that gave him the will to stand up to challenges. After all, despite his wariness he spoke openly to me, despite the fact I had openly admitted I was a dragon, and he brought news that would obviously displeased me. Unlike the vast majority of people who laid eyes on me for the first time, he did not turn his nose up in disgust (thought to be fair he doesn't really have a nose to turn, being a skeleton and all), and he didn't openly show hostility or resentment. He talked to me like he would a normal person, and it's been so long since that's happened to me that it almost felt wrong. 

I didn't surprise me that he worked with plants. I know your not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but the profession just seemed to fit him. Right off the bat the small yellow stranger seemed like the kind of person to try and sit you down to talk instead of drawing a blade to face you. A nice change of pace for sure, but why would the village send a flower boy who looked incapable of hurting a fly to search out a still possibly alive feral and confront a dragon? My thoughts were it was just the luck, or lack thereof, of the draw. 

Strangest mystery of all, he actually commanded me to wait so he could properly deal with my injuries. For starters, even those who live under rocks know well what dragons are, and anyone would know that commanding a dragon was usually a one way ticket to a fiery death. Then, there's the fact that he wants to actually help prolong the life of a 'terrifying beast' such as myself. Who exactly was this person, and why was he so different? Normally, I would have left despite the chance of being helped, as the chance of a situation like this being a trap was always high, but mild surprise and growing curiosity kept me tied to the clearing with a sense of anticipation for where this would go.

Maybe he would be different.

A distant rustle of leaves once more kicked me from my inner thoughts and brought me to my feet in a fighting stance, ready to draw my knife if need be. However, I quickly abandoned my stance as the stranger from before called through the bushes. 

"Don't worry, it's just me, Dream! The stranger from before!" He called in a light voice.

I adopted a more relaxed position as the yellow stranger forced himself through the bushes into the clearing. I quickly noticed that he was carrying a large bag with him, the multitude of earthy fragrances catching my attention.

"Good, you stayed. I wasn't sure you would actually trust me."

"I wasn't sure if you were telling the truth, so I suppose we were both working off of faith." I responded with a small smirk.

"If you knew me well, you'd know that I'm a very dependable person." Dream declared proudly.

"Well, if your so dependable, then complete your promise and fix my wing. Quite frankly, it's killing me." 

"You're dying?!" He exclaimed, dropping his bag accidentally. 

"...Figuratively. I'm not going to keel over because of a dislocated wing." I said, raising a bone brow at his reaction.

Strange. He had looked unusually concerned for a villager.

"Oh, right, yeah. I knew that." He mumbled, looking down at his bag sheepishly.