The early morning always brought with it the most beautiful sunrises, the freshest smells of the wild woodlands and sea salt, and the promise of a good day of hunting. So it rather jarred the Light Fury to hear something else moving on the beach sands nearby. Pale scales shifted, briefly flashing in the hues of the rainbow, before she vanished from sight, silently slinking closer to the source. She was prepared to growl, to snarl, to fight, to fly. But what greeted her was not the sight of the common threat of a human being.
It was small, it smelled like the sea, and like the woods. It had the vague shape of a tiny human, but it smelled like anything but. Curiously, the Light Fury moved to sit up a bit at the tree line, trying to get a better look at the creature at the water’s edge down the bank. The shifting of one of her dainty feet against the undergrowth caused a twig she had accidentally stepped on to snap. Loudly. And she froze, focusing on keeping her scales reflective so that only her focused blue eyes peeked out from the greenery she took cover in.
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In their brief time together as newly-partnered researchers, Vincent had revealed some rather odd quirks about himself. His tendency to organize things by color, then by size. The keeping of lucky charms on nearly all of his cabinets and shelves- even though he was certain they did nothing. The abundant stash of crucifixes and cross necklaces he possessed outside of work, despite holding no religious beliefs himself. And most notable of all, his way of speaking. Eloquent and charming as it was, Van Helsing had a tendency to ramble on at times. Long-winded explanations of seemingly simple concepts spilled from his mouth like running water, elaborate streams and babbling brooks tumbling over rocks on his tongue into a pool of conversation where he lingered in the deeper end of things. It was by no means unpleasant. A low tone of voice and how hushed he sometimes was in his ramblings (or mumblings as it were at times) ensures that it was far from grating on the skull. It was distracting however, especially at times like these.
With Harcourt’s journal gone, the two had set out to rediscover what had been lost in the embers. That meant going back to places Elsa and him had researched previously, hoping to recover evidence and notes she may or may not have been able to recall. Their current expedition was into an old church that had been long abandoned and reclaimed by the woodlands. The graves of those fallen and buried in its memorial site were overrun with weeds, spirits shaken up from the ground by plant life invading their coffins and leaving the whole site a beacon in the darkness for wandering spirits. Sometimes they were the lingering ghosts of those that had passed. But the consistent sound of thumping coming from upstairs that Elsa was having so much trouble focusing on proved that not every aura that lingered in this place had their best interests in mind. A poltergeist? Maybe. She couldn’t tell anything from Vin’s incessant chattering. She huffed in irritation.
The monster hunter was cut off mid-mumbling as he flipped through the pages of one of his books; his search for a translation of some of the Latin and runic carved into the walls of this place was abruptly halted by a finger pressed against his lips. He froze, glancing to the woman before him with an incredulous look before she hushed him and whispered, “do you hear that?” A pause.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The two glanced to the roof, watching as a movement on the floor above them caused dust to be shaken off of the crumbling ceiling down onto them. They looked to each other and Elsa slowly withdrew her hand. “Sounds like it could be a poltergeist or active creature of some sort,” the hunter whispered to his companion. “No other sounds? Howling maybe? Ghostly calls?”
“No, nothing yet.” Elsa visibly tensed as she hesitated. “What could it be?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Drawing a crucifix from his pocket, he handed it to Elsa, shutting his book and tucking it back into the depths of his coat before gripping one of his own crosses in his hand. “Stay close to me. There’s no telling what could be lurking around her.” With that, the two drew towards the stairs of the church to the next floor, hoping to explore the upper levels of the decrepit building and perhaps shed some light on whatever that strange sound might have been.
The dragon cooed at his words. She could understand what he was saying, even if she could’t respond to it with anything other than coos and rumbles, and she appreciated his words. She crooned, wide eyes staring at Andy to thank him for his words, before she moved forward and lightly nudged at him with her nose, gently knocking him down. A warm tongue began lapping at his face, accompanied by warbling sounds from deep within her chest as she playfully licked him.
She thought he was beautiful too. The most beautiful baby dragon she’d ever seen, and she would do everything in her power to protect her new little hatchling.
