The Dragon's Son

*Chapter 10*

From the auditorium, we were lead up three floors to the 'canteen' or 'mess hall' as some of the others named it. Other than a section of the floor divided for food prep, the entire floor was opened planned. Tables sat in orderly fashions and large glass windows looked over the stretch of bunkhouses and the forest beyond them. It was a large room, easily large enough for ten dragons to stand side by side with their wings at their full span. Both lengthwise and widthwise. Though, as I peered around I realized that the faces I saw were all those who had been with us that first day when that lecherous excuse for a man almost abused his position. They were all Omegas, other than their trainers it appeared. Another thing I noticed was the scent. 

The food, whatever it may be, was just being cooked. And though there were other scents, they were stale. A dozen or so hours old. The cooks were even eyeing us all with some emotion I wasn't certain of. I hummed lowly as I hung back at the entrance to the stairs. Though when Jack noticed my pause, he looked back to find me. "You coming, Jake?" he asked, making me huff, but I slipped over. I could see others throwing glances my way, similar to how they had done in on the transport and the larger auditorium where we had been appraised. I could hear whispered words as we passed, but I didn't bother to listen in. I had known from the beginning I would be a spectacle with my horns such. 

As we approached the glass and metal carts at the back of the room, odd scents I didn't recognize slipped over me. A mix of sweet scents and greasy ones washed over me, my nose wrinkling in response as I eyed the various foods. I didn't particularly care for their mix. Jack tried to explain certain ones to me, mostly the sweeter baked breakfast foods, though I had no desire to try any of them. I ended up with a few pieces of cooked pork cut into stripes that Jack called bacon and a couple of apples. I had chosen far less than the others, I realized, as we slipped over to the table our bunkmates had chosen. Our instructors were there as well. Though they had forgone getting anything. 

"Not a fan of sweets, ey?" James spoke up, looking over my tray as I settled down on the end of the table across from him. His eyes dancing with curiosity. An emotion I was becoming quite good a spotting from people without the addition of scent. 

"Sweets are different here. The smell is... synthesized?" I said the word more as a question, the word didn't have a mate in my language. Many mundane words didn't. I caught a nod from the end of the table. Upsilon Devon. Informing me that I had used the correct word. "Our baked goods are more like frozen fruit or sweet rolls." 

James pulled a face at that, but I could tell what emotion it was exactly supposed to portray until he spoke again, "Have you never had chocolate or cakes or ice cream?" he asked, slight horror in his voice. I picked up a piece of bacon in response and started chewing. Offering him a deadpanned expression since I only really understood cakes. 

"Dragon culture is more natural than our own, Omega Daily. They don't synthesize things like sugar or process anything they make and anything they preserve is through smoking or drying," Upsilon Carmicheal spoke up, eyeing the honey-haired boy, "He probably doesn't even know what things like ice cream and chocolate are." 

Jack pursed his lips for a moment, his eyes flickering to me as he realized something. "Dragon culture isn't really something we discuss a whole lot in school growing up," he told me, earning a few nods of agreeance, "If I do or assume something, feel free to correct me, alright? I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable over something." 

I lifted a brow at him, "I'm the one who needs to adapt, not you," I deadpanned, after finishing another strip of bacon. Though as I spoke, I caught Madison shaking her head from down the table. Just as Mason spoke up. 

"No, you don't. Not with all things at least," he said, scratching the side of his nose as he leaned forward. His eyes pointed, "Humans have long since made it a point to evolve to the cultures within it. That's why most people learn several languages as they grow up. So do correct us if we overstep on something culturally." 

Something about this whole interaction made my chest ache. I swallowed as I glanced at the others surprise pitting my stomach as I looked over the others. I flexed my hands for a moment, before finding the ability to nod. Jack patted me on the shoulder after I had fulfilled the action and I found something to talk about. "Expression," I muttered, clearing my throat, before flickering my gaze up, "Mundane expressions confuse me. Maybe be direct with me. I may get lost until I have time to adjust to them." 

This perked the interest of the two instructors at the end of the table. "Which expressions, spoke, facial, or both?" Deliah asked, food being forgotten for the moment. I lifted a hand to run between my horns with a low hum. 

"Both," I replied, "Many words you use don't translate over into Dovah. My rune may help me to understand, but it's learning just as I am. Um, speaking in literals will help. At least not when I'm being taught something. Any other time I'll be able to work it out, however slow. Emotional expression is... difficult. I can read things like excitement, curiosity, and even fear, but others are harder."

"Right then, new bunk rule," Marc said, dropping a napkin onto his empty tray, smiling down in my direction. "When teaching J anything, whether is helping with classwork or instructional training we keep it strictly literal. Same with facial expressions. If he even looks the slightest bit confused, we explain. How about it?" 

A chorus of agreements rose and again that odd light feeling flickered to life in my chest. I chuffed as I shook my head. "You... I am lucky," I decided. Making Jack toss his arm across my shoulders, grinning. A few of the others chuckled, but I could see they were happy at my words. 

"We all are. It's not every day you get to make ten fast friends," Jack put in, making me hum in agreement. Before here my only friend was my father. But in the span of twelve or so hours, I seemed to have made quite a handful of them. It was a rather surprising thing. Though I had to believe one thing, it was miraculous to end up in a good bunk. My family for the next foreseeable future. I had indeed gotten lucky. Maybe that luck would stick a while longer.