SSC - 'Youth'

    It was a cold and crisp morning in a small, open forest. A light dusting of snow had fallen; not quite enough to bury the few hardy winter grasses, but just the right amount to muffle the usual forest sounds into an eerie silence. A light fog clung close to the ground too, obscuring the distance between the trees and distorting shapes.

    One shape stood out though.

    Nestled in a clearing was a small cottage. It was made of wood, with a thatched roof and small windows. There were no lights on, indicating that noone was home. However, the grass was immaculately kept – keeping the surrounding wilderness at bay – and the windows were clean except for a coating of frost. Someone did live here.

    A crunching sound became audible, getting closer. Emerging from the swirling fog a dragon appeared, his paws crunching the frozen grass beneath them. He wasn't young; wrinkles decorated his muzzle and his teal-coloured scales were slightly dull. His eyes were bright though and they darted from left to right, surveying the forest as if he were looking for someone. He made steady progress, walking straight up to the wooden cottage where he stopped on the porch. The old dragon turned around and swept his gaze across the forest one last time before he turned to the door and pushed it open. Just before he walked over the threshold he unfurled his tattered wings and took something that was nestled on his back between his shoulder blades gently in his jaws.

    It was a single, white egg.


                                                                                 *******


    "Zurina! Get your scaly little backside down from that tree! Now!"

    It was mid-spring. The forest was now green again and colourful wild-flowers were growing in scattered clumps on the ground. The same teal-blue dragon – Frice – was stood at the base of a large oak, his forelegs resting on the trunk and his head turned upwards so he could glare into the canopy of budding leaves. All his stern words got him was an enthusiastic giggle, to which he responded with a poisonous scowl.

    Exactly what he had been thinking when he brought the egg home with him he had no idea. There was a reason he lived out here, all by himself. It wasn't that he hated people; he just preferred his own company and the peace and quiet that it brought.

    No chance of that now.

    He had hoped that someone would come to claim the egg. He had found it left in the path in the middle of nowhere. Although he wasn't fond of children and had none of his own, he did believe that they were a gift to be treasured and couldn't have just left it there to freeze. So, he had taken it home with him, intending to take it into town the next day and pass it off to some family or other. Fate decided to piss on his parade though. The next day a blizzard had snowed him in and by the time it had abated enough for him to get out of the front door, the little bugger had hatched.

    Dragons weren't like geese – they didn't imprint – but there was a certain bond formed between hatchlings and adult dragons. Noone could quite explain this and it was theorised to be some kind of magic. Either way, Frice was now effectively a father, whether he liked it or not.

    He was snapped out of his musings when his nose was pelted with early green acorns. It didn't hurt, but it was painfully irritating.

    "I mean it young lady. Don't make me come up there."

    He was met by more giggles. Despite her tender age the hatchling – who he had named Zurina, meaning white – wasn't stupid. She knew he wouldn't be able to come up the tree himself, he was too large. He couldn't fly either; his old wings were too tattered to support him. So he was at a stalemate, with a child no-less.

    The child in question he couldn't quite figure out. Her egg had been white and her scales now reflected that, but if Frice thought she was going to be an ice dragon as he was he was to be mistaken. Her stomach was baby pink, her horns silver and her wing membranes a beautiful mother-of-pearl colour; he found out soon after that she was a dragon of – surprisingly - the fire element. Frice had felt a pang of guilt and pity towards the youngster when he found out, she would likely never learn to use her element now as he couldn't teach it to her; the mechanisms for each element were similar, but fundamentally different.

    However, the hatchling did have one surprise up her sleeve.

    Many types of dragons do have limited colour-change ability. In fact, virtually all male dragons became more vibrant in colour when they were ready to mate, with some species experiencing more extreme changes than others. This little dragoness seemed to have a mutation or something – Frice honestly didn't really know – for she could change her colours, seemingly at will. She was too young to really control it, but during extreme emotions her body reacted.

    Now for example flashes of yellow were periodically moving down her little body like waves, filling the older dragon with contempt: she was mocking him.

    Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, the little shit started singing.

     "There was an old lady who swallowed a fly.
    I don't know why she swallowed a fly - perhaps she'll die!"

    Frice was regretting ever teaching her that rhyme... Zurina loved it and Frice now found that he was beginning to loathe it.

    "There was an old lady who swallowed a spider,
    That wriggled and wiggled and tiggled inside her;
    She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
    I don't know why she swallowed a fly - perhaps she'll die!"

    "Don't push your luck..."

    The hatchling however, blissfully ignored her elder and carried on singing.

    "There was an old lady who swallowed a bird;
    How absurd to swallow a bird.
    She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
    She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
    I don't know why she swallowed a fly - perhaps she'll die!"

    Growling in annoyance Frice stopped leaning on the tree and brought his forelegs to the ground with a huff. Now was as good a chance as any; he had to find a way up the tree, or at least a way to knock her out of it so he could catch her as she was dislodged. She certainly wasn't going to come down otherwise.

    "There was an old lady who swallowed a cat;
    Fancy that to swallow a cat!
    She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,
    She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
    She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
    I don't know why  she swallowed a fly - perhaps she'll die!"

    Frice circled the base of the trunk. It was a sturdy tree, he'd found out when he leant on it that it was very strong; not giving way much when he put his weight against it. The trees surrounding it were quite far away from it too, so there was no chance of bending them over to flick the hatchling out from her perch.

    "There was an old lady that swallowed a dog;
    What a hog to swallow a dog;
    She swallowed the dog to catch the cat,
    She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,
    She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
    She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
    I don't know why she swallowed a fly - perhaps she'll die!"

    This was getting him nowhere.

    Taking a few steps backwards Frice craned his neck up to look at the hatchling again, in her mounting excitement the colours were pulsing down her body faster and faster; she was completely ignoring the older dragon, content that she had him exactly where she wanted him.

    "There was an old lady who swallowed a cow,
    I don't know how she swallowed a cow;
    She swallowed the cow to catch the dog,
    She swallowed the dog to catch the cat,
    She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,
    She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
    She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
    I don't know why she swallowed a fly - perhaps she'll die!"

    "Fuck it!"

    Frice cursed loudly and a burst of frost jetted out from his nostrils. He quickly tensed his body before charging towards the offending oak. Zurina had no idea what was coming; she was now singing at the top of her lungs as she reached the climax of her song.

    "There was an old lady who swallowed a horse...
    She's dead, of cour-"

    The little dragon's last note turned into a startled shriek as Frice collided into her oak tree with all the force of a landslide. There was a loud snap followed by a creaking groan as the plant started to fall in a spray of splinters and leaves. The hatchling lost her footing and fell towards the ground, still shrieking and her immature wings flapping uselessly. In a rare show of agility Frice – who was stood in the shadow of the falling tree – leapt up to meet her, grabbing her tail in his jaws before diving to the side just in time to avoid being crushed.

    After a few seconds the tree settled and Frice raised his head from the ground where he had landed. The little savage he still held captive was growling like a feral, dragging out large furrows in the ground with all her paws as she tried in vain to resist being picked up. He held back a chuckle. Zurina rarely displayed more than flashes of colour, but right now her whole body was a livid red in her harmless anger.

    Regardless of his amusement he growled a warning, causing the hatchling to go reluctantly limp as he stood and headed back towards the cottage, though her colour remained. He would have to discipline her for this; his attack on the tree to get her down could easily have gone wrong and both she and himself could have been hurt.

    Around a mouthful of tail Frice smiled to himself. He was an unwilling father, but damn if that didn't mean he wasn't fond of the little firecracker dangling in his jaws.