She wasn’t taking his jest in good humor, as the dragon had expected from the moment he’d laid eyes on the tiny, crimson-clad bunny. The string of curses that spilled from her dainty muzzle made it worth it – along with the taste of bunny on his tongue – as he watched her slide her thickly gloved paws over her muzzle to wipe away the thick trail of saliva a single lick had left. No less than what she deserved, really. Marching up to him, a haughty attitude hovering around her with the same grandeur as the cloak that shrouded her slender shoulders, demanding that he submit to being her mount because she was a ‘dragon rider.’
The claim was true, of course. Ancient eyes had seen the telling gleam of power in eyes the color of blooming heliotrope from the moment she had dared to cross into his territory. The knowledge that was clear to all dragons when their rider came to them, the understanding that he would be compelled to join with her, did not mean he had to obey her every whim. A lesson that she had learned, after ordering him to bow his head and accept her reigns like a good little a dragon. A command which he had complied with until she had come closer. Then the lick, the taste, the knowledge of her scent. The bunny’s distress, her cry of disgust when she’d scampered away from him to wipe at her cheek, had hidden the fact that his eyes studied her more closely as her flavor lingered on his tongue and in his great maw.
“Foul beast!” she finally spat at him, her paws clenched at her sides as she stood with her legs parted and indignant rage boiling around her.
“It’s pronounced ‘dragon’, sweetheart,” he rumbled, the heavy tone of his voice holding vast levels of amusement as his long tail unraveled from its place around his forelegs. A low rumble, not unlike the call of thunder in distant skies, rose in his chest as he spread his wings. Satisfied when her eyes widened at the magnificence that he displayed: power, majesty, and beauty as he reared his head to exposed the creamy taupe of his scaled underbelly. “And you presume too much if you think a dragon as a mere beast to mount and ride as you see fit. You don’t have the courage to handle one such as I. I am not one of your stable born, brainless cattle-dragons. I am of the wilds, and I will not submit to a hatchling’s stuffed toy because she demands it. If you were more than a dumb bunny, you would be quaking in fear before me!”
“I’m not a dumb bunny,” she ground out slowly, the awe of his form fading as she continued to stand her ground. This time, the irritation joined indignation as his words reached her pride. “I know that you already know who I am, and I have no fear of you. You will help me find Lord Otterton.”
A challenge and a test, then. A dragon could only resist the call if there was doubt or fear in the heart of the rider that claimed them. Green eyes narrowed until they were faintly glowing slits, a rattle rising in his chest as he sucked in air until it was compressed in his lungs with enough pressure to accelerate the release when his maw parted. This time, not so playful as the fire in him boiled over and erupted from his throat. Liquid flames that would consume flesh and bone, incinerate cloth and melt all but the finest iron, rushed towards the rabbit. Seeing the widening of her eyes a moment before she was enveloped in an ocean of flame, he was certain that she would fail. Mortals feared natural fire, but a dragon’s fire was the stuff of nightmares. Armies scattered before it, brave knights fled or burned within it, and even other dragons avoided it unless there was no other choice.
Yet, as he slowed and finally ran out of breath, he saw that the bunny stood within it. The very earth around her was blackened and melted, the air around her hummed and crackled with the remains of the fire that danced around her. As expected, she was untouched. Whatever magic granted dragon-riders sway over the dragons themselves also granted them immunity to one of a dragon’s greatest weapons. He had known this, but he had not expected her to be so unflinching. Any doubt he had tried to raise within her had been brushed aside, cast to the wind as the two of them stood facing one another.
“Well now,” he rumbled as he lowered his body to the ground and moved his great head towards her so he could more easily meet her gaze.
The length of rope that she swung towards him came as a surprise, especially when it managed to loop around the top half of his parted snout. She was obstinate and did not yet understand the meaning of the bond she demanded of him. But she would learn soon enough. He did not resist as she pulled him closer until the tip of his nose touched the scorched earth that he had created. When she came closer, he allowed his tongue to lick at the roof of his mouth for a moment before sliding it over the rope curiously. Pleased, because she noticed this motion herself and stared at his tongue for a moment longer than a proper bunny should have, he met her gaze when it raised to him. She was strong, fearless, stubborn, and rather cute. And she was, he noted in the back of his mind somewhere, delicious on top of it all. That may have been his vulpine side showing its preference for bunny. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too much of a burden, though she might think otherwise herself once he was finished with her.
“Not what I expected from a cute little bunny,” he managed to rumble, only to have her yank on the rope to draw his head closer to her.
“It’s pronounced ‘Dragon Rider’, sweetheart.”
Art by TheWyvernsWeaver
Story by me. :)
