Pierre lit up when Morven agreed that they could maybe meet up again. His smile was bright and honest, and Pierre was quick to leave after Morven directed him out. He couldn't get his new friend in trouble, after all!

"Have a good day!" He chirped, giving Morven a thumbs up before swiping another handful of gobberberries, and skedaddling away.

-

ts? if so, where?

Yes ts, uh maybe they meet again and this time Fish is there? Morven would be alone too.

It had been just over a week since Pierre accidentally stumbled into a trap meant for dragons, and he had yet to go home. His "home" (if it could even be called that, since Pierre spent so little time there) held only awkward silences when a joke didn't land (which was always), and exasperated faces when Pierre failed to take something seriously yet again (which also was always).

Plus, Fish didn't like the village, and as Pierre's best friend, it felt pretty rude to stay in the village when the dragon wanted company. There were occasionally moments when Fish wouldn't want company, and he would disappear for days at a time, but the longest that ever lasted was two weeks, and he always came back. Right now, though, Fish was acting extra clingy, so Pierre shoved the village out of his mind.

(Pierre figured this extra clinginess stemmed from the fact that he had been caught in a dragon trap, which Pierre had casually babbled about once the pair met back up again. An alarming shade of angry red scales had flared up all over his body, with a scattering of black scales tucked along his spine, which Pierre associated with a bone-deep fear. It had taken a while for Pierre to convince Fish that he was, in fact, fine, and that no, he was not hurt, and that there was a very nice boy who helped him out, so please do not go and take revenge for me.)

"Screw civilization," Pierre had remarked, noticing Fish's attempt to hide his fear, "I can stay out in the woods a while longer." That had brought out the yellow, so Pierre put returning back to Bystam out of his mind for a while (which wasn't hard to do).

Besides, Pierre did better out in the wilderness. Hunting, fishing, and other wilderness survival skills came easy to him, whereas the crowded village always felt stifling and sticky.

-

The current mission Pierre had set out on was catching fish for his and Fish's dinner. In knee-deep water, Pierre demonstrated a rarely seen amount of patience as he waited for fish to swim by. Once they did, it only took a swift downward jab with his makeshift spear, and another fish was added to the growing pile.

It was the river that flowed between the two villages (and was probably too close to Castow) and Pierre had camped beside it many times before, and hadn't ever seen any signs of human interference.

Fish (that lazy ass) was pretending to sleep by the makeshift fire pit - one Pierre had built months ago during his first time camping here. Pierre knew that the dragon was faking, though, since every time Pierre added another fish onto the pile, Fish's eyes would squint open, and quickly dart to the side.

Even though Pierre huffed and chuffed about being the one to do all of the work, he didn't really mind. If Fish caught their dinner, then Pierre wouldn't get any, because that glutton of a dragon would eat them all, and scare away all of the fish in the river.

So, Pierre normally became the designated hunter when the two of them were together, while Fish would pretend not to be lookout.

-

Pierre had long since discarded his shoes, and shirt was resting beside the fire to dry after a slippery rock had led to an accidental dunk in the river. His pants were rolled up above the knees, and had mostly dried out since his unexpected swim a few hours before.

Once Pierre was able to catch a sufficient amount of fish (dragons ate a lot), then he would be able to cook the fish for the two of them.

And yes: Pierre had to cook the fish for the dragon, since apparently, after seeing Pierre cook his food, and subsequently char his own in response, Fish decided he prefers cooked meat. Pierre, however, can't stand the smell of the charred meat, so he cooks them instead.

Sometimes it felt like Pierre was Fish's maid, doing all of the hunting and cooking for himself and a giant dragon (who should be self-sustainable, but noooo).

The days often went by quickly for Morven, swinging from one thing to the next with little time to rest in between. So when Ven finally got the opportunity to quietly slip away from the town and attempt to find some sort of relative freedom, he did not let the chance slip through his fingers.

After making his daring escape from Castow, Ven headed down to the nearby river that flowed through the forest. Technically the river was off-limits, especially when alone. Since it was the biggest water source for miles dragons often rested there and, unless you were actively hunting dragons, it was deadly to go alone. But Morven had previously gone down to the river before and the fishing there was amazing. Besides, he was hungry and a nice seasoned fish sounded good.

As Morven made his way down to the river, thinking about all the delicious fish in his future, he spotted a Deadly Whisper on the river's edge. It was pure instinct that made him duck, fear racing through his body. A Deadly Whisper hadn't been spotted this close to Castow in... at least two years. They were known to be aggressive, and their fire was deadly and could kill someone Morven's size in under 15 seconds.

He had to get out of here.

Carefully, ever so carefully, Ven took his first step forward, then the next, then the next, wow he was really going to live- then there it was, the dreaded branch breaking. He could hear the large dragon almost immediately stand and without thinking Ven took off, his feet flying beneath him. He was dead and he knew it. Within moments he felt something heavy hit his back and the air rush out of his lungs as he hit the ground with a loud "oof."

Fear flooded his veins as his eyes fogged with tears.

Morven didn't want to die.

In the blink of an eye, Fish had taken off.

Where a dragon had once been fake napping was now just empty space, with a suspicious thud coming from the woods soon after. Considering the fact that Fish wasn't making a racket, then whatever he had pinned something down that wasn't fighting back - meaning it was probably not a dragon hunter.

Still, even a dragon hunter didn't deserve to die of fear (maybe), so Pierre stumble-slipped out of the river and jogged into the woods.

At first, Pierre could just see Fish's back, and not whatever he had pinned down. The dragon swiveled his head around, yellow scales drifting around his face in a pleased manner. Fish's tilted head and proudly held wings said, "Look what I caught!!" like a cat bringing home a mouse to their owner.

As cute as the sight was, Fish could hear the thing (please don't be a person, please don't be a person) breathing erratically, so Pierre waved Fish off. The dragon had pinned his catch beneath one of his large hind feet, but had not put any weight on it, so the person (oh god it's a person) wouldn't be injured - other than from the force of hitting the ground.

Pierre hurried in closer, and his face replaced Fish's in the persons line of view.

Shit, Pierre thought to himself, although his face remained smiling, Of course it had to be my new maybe-friend. Hopefully Fish didn't scare the crap out of him... But Pierre saw the tears, and in his gentlest voice, tried to calm the other boy, "Hey, hey, hey... sorry about that! Fish was on guard duty - I hope he didn't hurt you! You're okay - I promise! - you are totally safe, I've gotcha. He won't hurt you."

Fear was nothing new for Morven, especially not when it came to dragons. His dear sister had gotten them into several deadly situations countless times, but being alone in such a dire scenario made everything much worse. Ven was attempting to blink away the tears, trying his best to at the very least glare at the dragon and look somewhat brave in his final moments when suddenly the pressure was released and a familiar face came into view.

This time, Ven truly did furiously blink away the tears, his face flushing red as he quickly flipped around to be sitting and not faceplanted into the earth. "I-I'm fine," he stuttered, his words breathless as his eyes flickered back and forth between the dragon and Pierre. "The other day you told me your beast was shy, not a bloody Deadly Whisper. It could've killed me," Ven's voice trembled and although he attempted to put up a bold front it fell apart when he spoke.

Rarely ever did Morven truly get afraid, he'd been on plenty of dragon hunting expeditions and adventures to typically know how to handle such situations, but a Deadly Whisper? Morven had only ever caught a small glimpse of one once and that had been more than enough for the rest of his life. Besides, in those scenarios he'd always been with others who he knew could defend him or call for help, he had been dumb to come out alone with so few defenses but the freedom the open sky brought him was something he craved. He was happiest out here, even if it brought more danger than it was truly worth.

Even though Pierre knew that Fish wouldn't hurt a person (unless they were threatening to hurt either Fish or himself), the guy that Fish had just absolutely demolished definitely did not know that.

Still, Pierre couldn't help but cross his arms, his voice inching higher in pitch as he grew defensive, "Why can't Fish be shy? And why would being a Deadly Whisper prevent that? I mean..." Pierre struck out his arms to the side and waved them dramatically, guesturing towards Fish, "Look at him! He's just a little - well, actually big, but you know what I mean - guy! Just a cute fellow! My little guard-dragon!"

As if to prove Pierre's point, Fish tilted his head to the side (very cutely, if you asked Pierre), yellow scales drifting across his face, amused at his foolish human's antics.

"And! Fish obviously didn't kill you, so that totally means you aren't allowed to be mean to him when he was just protecting me!"

Pierre stuck his hand out without warning, butting right into Morven's space, an unspoken offer to help him up, "But still, I probably would have also shit my pants if any dragon pounced on me in the woods, so I completely forgive you for calling Fish a beast even though I told you last time that he's a friend. And sorry again about him scaring you."

Ven glanced back and forth between Pierre and Fish. What an awful name for a literal killer dragon, yet somehow it seemed to fit since Pierre was the dragon's partner after all. Pierre was odd, odder than any dragon-sympathizer Morven had ever met and he'd met quite a few.

The dragon's glare was quite terrifying, and although Ven knew distantly that the changing scales meant something he had no clue what that something was. Instead, he kept his eyes tracked on it while Pierre jabbered on in a way that Morven had begun to realize was just how he was. Once he was offered a hand up, Morven warily took it, eyeing the dragon just in case it decided he was worth killing.

"If your Fish was a shy dragon like you claim him to be, he wouldn't have pounced on me. He would have stayed away," Morven huffed and pulled away from Pierre, keeping his eyes trained on the dragon. "And to be fair I didn't know he was yours, I thought he was a random dragon so I am sorry for calling him a beast but," Morven gulped, "he is a tad bit terrifying."

Once Morven was steady on his feet, Pierre let go of his hand, and, seemingly not noticing him moving away, stepped forward to help brush some of the dirt off his clothes.

"I mean... I guess he's terrifying. Like, objectively, yes, absolutely terrifying. The whole," Pierre waved one hand around, punctuating his words while his eyes were trained on a stubborn dirt stain, which he attempted to remove with the other hand, "'I'm a killer dragon!!' sort of vibe can be kinda spooky. It's just- I dunno. He's Fish. He's a dork. He likes being lazy and charring his fish and listening to the sound of a guitar."

Shrugging, Pierre removed himself from Morven's space, hands swigging up to knit together behind his neck. Pierre stretched, just now noticing the soreness in his back from leaning over the river for the past however-long time.

"To make it up to you, why don't I treat you to dinner! I have a bunch of fish and a handy dandy packet of seasoning," Pierre raised an eyebrow, smirking preemptively as a thought came to him, "What do you say? Wanna eat fish that I fished with Fish?"

Morven's face flushed bright red as Pierre continuously attempted to brush away the dirt on his clothes, he abashedly mumbled something along the lines of "what do you think you're doing," but he never could seem to get a real word in with Pierre.

And so he sat there, flustered a bright red as the practical stranger attempted to get the dirt off him.

"I don't think dragons can be dorks," he murmured before instantly perking up at the talk of dinner. Ven typically brought snacks with him on his little outings, typically finding a tree or hill to lounge on as he enjoyed both the view and the food. Unfortunately, the snack he'd brought with him today had been crushed just as he had under Fish's large feet. So there went the last good peach of the season, followed by any pride Morven might've had.

"I suppose dinner wouldn't be a bad deal, though thinking of my meal coming from a dragon is a bit... odd to say the least." He almost smiled at that, mindlessly tugging at the amethyst around his neck while trying not to make eye contact with Fish.