Kindling

Once upon a time ago, Stiles remembers cool scales: leather pebbly beneath his curious, exploring touch. Once upon a time ago, Stiles remembers the touch of an unfettered breeze against his cheeks, the chilled bite of air far too thin for most to breath easily. Once upon a time ago, Stiles remembers the strong beat of wings beneath his legs, remembers the way his stomach jumped to his throat at a sudden, sharply steep dive: remembers, too, the happy whoop of air leaving his lungs in a breathless cry of absolutely joy as he plummeted back down to earth. Once upon a time ago, Stiles remembers the heat of a forge, the heart-molten at its core-hidden deep beneath this world's crust, reassuring in its fire-steady beat of a giant heart-against his baby cheek. Once upon a time ago, Stiles remembers that he dreamt of dragons.