FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 13

She stretched with a loud yawn, sharp teeth popping out into the outside world from the cover of her mouth, glistening gently due to the wet touch of saliva. She shuddered, lying on the side, the morning stretch forced her paws forward, extending to their very limit, where they shook delicately, claws and toes curling into an uncertain fist as if something would poke her nerve, forcing an unnatural clamp.

Her golden eyes opened, looking directly at the sight she was more than used to seeing. Which was a difficult task in itself, every time she goes to bed she removes the clip. Making the hair of her potent mane flow freely and during sleep hair can flow in any direction and entwine in every possible way. Usually flowing down her eyes, blocking her sight, she was however used to strands of her mane getting in the way of her sight. Any other person would be probably bothered by the black pieces filling their vision, she however was not, she could see and feel as comfortable as if there was absolutely nothing getting in the way of her sight.

At the end of her bedroom stood a simple stand, with a large, wide mirror above. On the stand stood a pot, with a large green pine thriving inside. With the surface of the mirror aimed directly at the bed, the leafs and branches of the small tree obscured the reflection of her own waking self.

In the temple, when duty called she would move the plant away as to see her reflection precisely. In a temple she would have to satisfy her taste for beauty. Her profession required grace.

Here, in the quarters without any foreign eyes poking at you besides your own from the reflections, here rules don't matter and grace is unimportant. And this, this freedom where you can do everything you want without fear that people will label you for what you aren't, blocking the possibility of your dedication to help and serve as guidance, judging your heart and faith, judging your decisions and questioning the intentions you believe are good.

Without anyone looking, every decision and action is good, here no one is influenced but yourself and whether it is inappropriate, dirty, childish or reckless, it all does not matter, as long as it feels good. Not the typical, pleasurable way, there was that too of course, but Good, in the sense of morality good, here you simply knew you are doing the good thing.

And all the people here, exactly one to be precise, yourself, will feel exactly the same way.

Thus the obscured sight, the uneven reflection, ripples in the perceivement of the world, the dirt to put it bluntly, it felt good and was Good.

At least till yesterday.

She liked mornings in this house, taking a look at the covered mirror, it only intensified the unkempt image of her sleepy self, pointing out every uncomfortable pose, twitch of muscle and flex of tissue, catching every strand of disheveled morning mane. In all that mess she found beauty and fun, every morning in this house put a smile on her face, a wide, sleepy one, displaying every row of her imperfect smile. Greeting her reflection was special and something she always wanted to do.

At least till yesterday.

She didn't like to stay awake long during the nights, she went to bed early, way too early for a feline, let alone for a dragon, a creature that can go without sleep for weeks if it chooses to. She never liked darkness, which is quite ironic considering the fact that something clicked when she met Cynder.

That aside however, darkness was something she didn't like, night in general wasn't her favorite part of the day. It covered things in shadows, even if it can be dispersed, it can only be removed by artificial light, not natural one. Artificial light makes things fake, real beauty cannot be found in false light, in false light nothing is sure, false light can be eluding, deluding and elusive. In false light there is nothing certain.

There was also something about people during the night, not all of them of course, but many seemed like they lived exactly for the night. Acting bold and with no regrets, feeling more free, like consequences didn't exist, like life was a wild mess.

She tried something like that in her younger days, going out with people she called friends into the night life, doing things she would never do now. Yet even then, she didn't enjoy it, not really even if sometimes there were fun times.

The moment her life led her to priesthood she found true happiness, going to work, watching the broad daylight, and then going home to enjoy the alone time. This was her perfect life, a quiet one, maybe lonely, but solitude didn't bother her, alone she can do everything she wants and all of it is good.

She liked people, those she met during her working hours, they were completely different than those during the night, with those people she enjoyed spending time with.

Like Sparx.

They were real and true.

Those during the night however, those felt like false light, unsure.

Because of that uncertainty she went to bed early, sacrificing night to wake up fresh with the first rays of sun, waking up even before birds start their morning calls. The wakening up part was another reason for a smile, the knowledge of Nature's alarm clocks still not on filled her with a desire, a dirty desire to stick her head out of the window and squawk, squawk like a draconic she bird. She always wondered if the true birds would answer her.

It goes without saying that she never build the courage to do so.

This morning however was different than all of the rest, even if she went to bed a little later than usual after the gathering in the Plaza. The night was still young, especially for a dragoness.

Yet she didn't feel fresh, she woke up in the very same time as always, she knew that without looking at the window. Even her uneven reflection, wasn't as precious as always, for the very first time in this house she woke up without a smile, without the power and conviction of being alone and the ability to do absolutely everything, whatever her heart desired.

For the very first time she woke up and felt tired and exhausted.

For the very first time the light of the day, the morning, felt false like light in the night.

For the very first time in this house, she woke up confused and uncertain.

Mornings were always chaotic, she never exactly knew what she would do, but she was certain that it would be fun, a mess. She would fool around, give in to the desire that shrinks when people are around.

It was always a statement, a conviction.

Let's do it!

Right now?

Right now it was a question. A terrible, scary question that she always ran away from, a question that puts you on the crossroad of morality and confidence.

Of purpose.

What now?

She blinked, after this she would usually jump from the bed and do whatever she would think of in the moment. Right now all she did was to move her mane from her eyes, flicking the strands behind her horn.

She let out a deep, wavering sigh, rubbing her cheek into the pillow.

Was this depression?

She didn't know, truth be told she felt as if she didn't know about anything anymore. She tried to comprehend it however, tried to understand if being aware of your miserable state is depression or not.

She didn't know.

Maybe it was just sadness, depression sounds so profound, when that is in play you should lose sense of life.

Does she have a sense of life?

She didn't know.

She blinked, eyebrows of her golden eyes moving idly up and down, she went to bed early as always and yet she felt tired. She didn't remember any particular dreams, she just closed her eyes and drifted away, with difficulties, but still.

Yet the sleep was as barren as her feeling of purpose and dedication.

From her experience she can tell that there is still at least a thirty minute pause before the birds start their morning singing. Besides the fluttering of her eyebrows and her breathing there was nothing else to be heard.

Silence.

In this bed, pressed against the pillow where one of her earholes is blocked by the soft material she expected to hear some humming, some little noise that could be considered a voice. Cheat to actually fill up the barren void with some purpose, with some motive and certainty.

There was only silence however.

Cogs in her head started turning on their own, mind taking the opportunity of quiet atmosphere began processing ideas and thoughts. Searching for an answer to a simple question, a simple question because despite her not exactly proud draconic characteristics she had that one trait that really fit with her race.

She considered herself to be smart, she was capable of making logical connections and creating coherent conclusions. She became a priest not only because she blindly followed the call of faith, but also because to understand faith from the logical point of view.

This is why she earned great respect for the Seeker, but also remained far enough from his influence to be able to draw logical conclusions. Perhaps intellect wasn't the only thing that played a role here, perhaps it was morality in general, where you simply knew that if you follow one road blindly, no matter how noble it might seem, you will always end up hurting someone if you won't consider other options.

Or perhaps sometimes you are simply fed up with good that you need to do something naughty.

Probably it was something in between.

She felt somewhat better, thinking, logical mathematic of facts, it adds a little bit of scientific reliability that has nothing to do with morality, or conscience, or any other supernatural and emotional touch. Facts are just that, facts.

And facts announced that the dead cannot speak.

She clenched the sheets with her paws, gently rubbing her claw tips against the material. For a second she forgot all about logical thinking and scientific approach. The sheets felt thin and fragile, it was like she could literally feel the border between reason and blasphemy.

Her gold eye shifted from the mirror and up towards the ceiling, catching whatever glimpse it could in her position.

She waited.

She expected the ceiling to crack, a thunder bolt slipping through the crevices, or some magical, glowing paw reaching through to smite her.

The ceiling remained still however, silence as always filled the air around her.

Facts announced that the dead cannot speak.

Her sight returned to the distorted reflection of herself in the mirror.

It became somewhat more pleasing to the eye now.

Think. You are a cleric, not forced into the profession, you chose it out of your own free will. Driven by true passion to build fundaments for your faith to thrive on and sought the call because you wanted to learn.

Putting aside all those destiny and fate theories, putting aside all those supernatural, subtle calls that might have whispered something in your earhole while sitting on your shoulders, tapping the feet of their swinging legs against your scales, putting aside all of that. Your own free will remained, devoid of any magic and pressure.

If the dead would speak, wouldn't you be able to hear them now? When no sound surrounds you besides that of your own soft breathing?

There was only silence though.

Temples, they have that special, hard to describe and explain vibration, which was probably felt much more by the devoted. The atmosphere there was a little more thicker, a little more crowded, but not in the way that made you choke and feel overwhelmed. It was the type of supporting atmosphere, assuring you that no matter where you turn there will always be someone who watched you, would help you and assist you in any way.

Even if your eyes landed on an empty wall.

There was always that sense of presence there, even if the temple was basically empty, especially during the night when the caretakers finish their last chores and prepare to sleep, even then the sensation of being surrounded in that comfortable way didn't lose on strength.

You could say that the divine truly watch over you.

If the sacred watch over you then why would they restrict their attention to only one place? See you only when you are in the temple? Wouldn't the attention of a godlike being, capable of looking at you from the stars, expand to the whole world? Not only some rocky walls constructed by mortal hands?

Yet in this house, in this bed, during this very morning she felt completely alone.

What makes a place sacred if not the determination and global acceptance of an idea formed by a single person?

The same rules apply to holy scripts and artifacts, isn't the first a simple writing by a mortal hand while the other merely an object found in an archeological dig site?

What makes people sacred in the first place? Weren't the Ancestors dragons as every other dragon when they lived?

People become sacred by the determination and will of following an idea of a single mind that considered the deeds committed by the dragon that now became an Ancestor to be nearly divine. While in truth that Ancestor did something no other dragon did before them, built enough courage to break through the impossible.

Weren't the scripts written by the long dead now only simple texts about love, philosophy, or just a story until the one that wrote them reached the divine pedestal years after his or her death? Weren't the jewelry they wore, the blankets they used to sleep in, the tissues they bled onto merely simple objects of daily use? Differed in structure and form because of the year they appeared in?

She felt even more better now. There was something really enticing in a scientific approach to life.

She didn't have much contact with the Electric Guardian, she knew however he likes books, at least now, finally, she understands why he is always so happy.

With a sigh she rolled on her belly, propping herself on her elbows, head dropping low and mane hanging down her snout, strands dangling in front of her eyes. She didn't have much energy, or will for that matter, she lacked the freshness of morning.

Yet the thinking pushed away that sucking depression, or whatever it was slightly away, enough to stir the desire to do something inappropriate, childish and completely, in her opinion, unacceptable for someone of her age and social position.

She had the aspiration for something modest, not entirely out of her typical element like all that clay play with Sparx in the temple. Something modest would do her good right now, especially now when probably the early, early morning is over and the birds will start their song soon.

She really needed some power in her batteries.

She slowly rose up on all fours, legs shaking slightly as if she would be trying to stand up and find balance on a drifting, wooden board.

She bounced up, jumping gently in the air before dropping back again on the bed, her paws dived slightly into the mattress, denting it for a second until the soft and spongy bed returned to its original form and slightly hurling her up in the air as if it would be a trampoline.

A small smile stretched her lips, her paws started to move, gently up and down as if she would be walking yet in fact she was testing the ground under her. The mattress was exactly like a sponge, bending and stretching, all depending on where exactly her paw put weight.

All her life, both back in her home village or in the temple she slept on really hard beds, not to mention earth and all other types of ground. She really got accustomed to it and never was bothered by it, animalistic nature is animalistic nature after all.

It was here, in this city when she moved here with her far older stepsister, here she learned the true meaning of comfort when she got the chance to rest on such a lithe bed like this.

She had no idea of what it was made from, all she knew that it sometimes emitted a bulging sound as if water would be inside. She considered herself to be smart, but she never had the head for all that typically scientific, mechanical and inventive stuff.

She hardly had control of her own manual skills, facing really technical issues would melt her brain.

Clumsiness is clumsiness.

All she knew about this bed is that her stepsister adored it and that it was expensive, really, really expensive.

When her stepsister moved out to her mate, she took some personal things and a similar bed with her. She didn't really make much of it really, her stepsister was friendly and nice enough to leave the house completely to her, knowing well that she sometimes likes her solitude. A bed and personal things were in no comparison to that.

She was proven wrong.

Spending the nights in the temple, on that hard, stale bed was a pain after learning what true comfort is. She decided however to bare through it, after all she was a cleric, modesty and giving example that material things are unimportant in the face of faith was her duty.

Every stored away gem she earned proved exactly how faithful she was to that dedication.

She explained to herself that it was merely a pursuit for beauty, in truth perhaps it was hubris. She didn't really mind however, it was inappropriate and totally reckless, but it was for her alone and nobody will get hurt.

The pay of a cleric is modest, she didn't remember actually how long it took to save enough gems to afford such a bed, but it took a very long time. And when she finally got enough savings, without hesitation she went to the store and bought the bed she dreamed of.

Already warning that she has no idea how to make it work and how to keep it in functioning order. The moles however are born technicians, full of passion for their work and offered weekly, free of charge, examinations and repairs if necessary to keep the bed in functioning condition.

That reminded her that Fink, the mole that was coming to her every week after she bought the bed to make the necessary examinations should be arriving soon. They agreed to morning visits, not long after the squawking of birds and before she begins her work.

Anyway, the bed was here and it was hers, unfortunately she didn't really think about the consequences a purchase like this might cause, especially when you become so affixed on something that you don't take the future into consideration.

When she reached the desired limit, it turned out that the bed cost exactly the amount of gems she saved, not a piece less, not a piece more. She bought it anyway, she couldn't stop herself when she knew she had the right amount.

She starved for four weeks because of that.

The temple of course provides meals for its caretakers, some don't have any other place to live and the temple is their home. She had a house of her own and driven by honor and a sense of natural morality she never took the free opportunity to stuff her stomach with food at the temple.

There are people living there, that is their home and for her it was unacceptable to be an eternal guest feeding off on the politeness of the host. She always bought her food in the market, as a cleric, even if she didn't really want it, she always had food on discount. Ridiculously cheap.

However the bed made even such small investment extremely expensive, well, if you have absolutely zero to spend probably everything is expensive.

Of course the temple isn't the only place where free food is served. Warfang being the main hub of the Realms earns its income from all sorts of trade, the city is rich and doesn't really feel when it gives away freebies to the populace, like food for example for the less picky.

The Mess Hall was another such place.

It goes without saying that she never went there. Everybody knew she was a cleric and everybody knew that clerics have similar service in the temple. It was absolutely terrifying, disgusting and embarrassing to stuff your maw with food that you can get by other means. It almost felt like stealing.

There was also another way to gain food, the more brutal and natural way.

Hunting.

She never went that way either, she is a pathetic representative of her race, she hunts so well that even snails escape from her grasp. Once, when she was younger, she went hunting and spotted her prey, a deer, any capable young dragon is skilled enough to hunt a deer.

Turned out she wasn't one of them.

Her hunting trip ended with blood however, yet it wasn't the deer that was bleeding but her. She wasn't sure how it exactly happened, all she remembered was that she was sneaking up on the oblivious deer, using all of her grace, all perks her small body had to offer.

She managed to sneak so close that a single pounce was enough to sink claws in the animal's flesh and the deer didn't hear her. Partially because she was quiet as a mouse and partially because she was crawling through some very thick and muddy jungle-like terrain. She masked her scent and took advantage of the natural snapping sound of twigs and branches.

She attacked and that's basically all she clearly remembers from that hunt. Everything else is scraps.

She jumped, that's for sure and then there is a black void with powerful pain as a reminder, the last thing she saw was the hoof of the springing to sprint deer kicking her right in the nose.

Oh and there was another thing she learned that day. It turned out that she hated the sight of blood. Before everything faded into darkness she remembers throwing up profusely at the sight of all that crimson liquid.

Her parents explained to her what happened when she regained her senses, they were watching her all along and after the initial worry for her health disappeared after learning that she will be alright they laughed about it for what seemed like years.

She learned that the moment she attacked, she hit herself in the head pretty badly on one of the thicker branches she didn't notice. In the meantime her right paw got stuck in some vines and as she sprang forward the force of the jump made her spring her ankle.

All of this made her fly in a rather ungraceful pose that directed her snout directly at the kicking hoof of the deer which hit her nose and broke it. She ended up bleeding, throwing up and fainting in her own pool of vomit and blood.

Good times all things considered.

Yeah, hunting wasn't an option. When she is in the wilds it's hard to tell who is the predator there, the butterfly or the turtle, because no one in their right mind considers her as a deadly threat.

Luckily nobody noticed her plight, she is small and frail looking to begin with, nobody could tell the difference, nobody knew that for four weeks she fed herself on dust only.

Her smiled widened, back then it wasn't so pretty, listening to your grumbling stomach playing all sorts of tunes that would put a less talented bard to shame wasn't the peak of her dreams, but now, when thinking about it, it was a silly, funny memory.

All in all, she got her bed after all.

She bounced up one more time, landing on the mattress with shaking legs and wobbling up and down posture as the bed fought back against the pressure of her weight to return to its normal form.

She learned that hubris alone wasn't the reason why she bought the bed in the first place. It was a modest way of satisfying herself, feeding the desire to do the wrong, bad, crazy and naughty, the inappropriate and childish.

Modest way of breaking through the ice block of seriousness.

And it always worked. And she had a feeling it will work even now when the desire is not as strong as usually.

She bounced up again, this time however not opting for a steady landing and the awaiting of the bed to form itself back to its natural form. She bounced up one more time the moment she landed, then again and again. Slowly at first, but then the jumps became more hastened and more chaotic.

It was completely inappropriate for a girl her age to have fun from jumping on a bed like a hatchling.

Yet she loved it immensely.

The bed was doing its magic. Forcing a giggle out of her throat.

She was now bouncing on the bed with the speed of a talented crossbowman loading his weapon, the speed of her bounces made the bed react, each hop was higher than the last one, nearly shooting her up to the ceiling.

Some time ago she didn't have the skills to maintain a constant, vertical position, the bed would throw her like a furious bull in every corner of the room. Now the hopping was steady, so steady and fun that she actually added some aerial combinations to make this things more fun and exciting.

And they were exactly that, fun and exciting.

She actually laughed when she made a spin in the air, pulling wings tightly to her body and dropping on the bed, back first. She was lifted higher than ever, spreading her paws in all possible directions she made another spin to return to her natural position.

Her paws sank deep into the mattress, the spongy bed familiar with the law of physics pushed her legs away with the same amount of pressure.

She yelped joyfully, rolling on her side in the air and dropping down, rising back up again, making a spin to the other side and letting herself be carried by gravity once more. With that bounce she directed her back once again at the bed, all paws aimed stretched upwards in one direction, silver mane flowing freely in the air.

She sunk into the mattress, a blissful smile stretched her lips after a chuckle of complete happiness. It was a wonderful feeling, she was certain this is how clouds feel if you simply could touch and stretch their fluffy structure.

The bed hurled her up, gold eyes glimmered when the surface of the ceiling began growing with immense speed. She extended her right leg the moment her ascent was slowing down, stretched her paw as far as her body allowed her and curled her toes, all except one. Tip of the claw on that single to scratching the ceiling.

Exactly in the same place as always.

Refreshing the barely visible cut she created the very first day when she was left alone with her new bed.

As to announce the victory the birds started their morning singing.

For a second she felt as if she literally froze in the air, eyes directed themselves at the window in her bedroom that looked into the courtyard, with small trees in the garden and a natural wall of Warfang stretching upwards towards the sky.

She observed the small, gold singing birds, her body frozen, her mane was the only thing that moved. Strands slowly flowing down one by one, obscuring her vision as they were dragged down by gravity. Soon her body was dragged down by the same force.

She bounced up, making a swift spin to direct her belly towards the bed, paws sunk into the mattress as she once again touched the bed. She was lifted again and again, every next time the leap was shorter than the last, eventually making her hopping come to an end.

She once more and for the final time did the stale walk, tasting the soft surface below her paws before with one leap to the side she landed on now steady floor of her home. Her paws slid in all directions, the landing was far from grace, but she managed to keep herself standing, even if she was stretched like some adventurer that is latching to a wall with hot lava bulging below him.

The birds kept on singing.

The bed did its magic, she turned around towards the window, cocking her head and listening to the animals with a smile stretching her lips.

The animals with feathers that are the same color as her eyes seemed to turn their little heads in her direction. Beaks parted and another birdy, melodic tune left their small throats.

"How did you love..." she sang softly, her voice barely a whisper as she circled the bed around and made her way through the bedroom, paws tapping a barely hearable noise as they moved through a soft carpet

She reached the window, opening it slowly and gently. The song of the birds seemed to gain on intensity, as if they were overjoyed by seeing her.

She smiled.

"You can have the sound of a thousand voices calling your name..." she sang delicately, her deep, rich voice made the bird's feathers flutter in pleasure

It possibly might be the wind, but she still believed she was responsible for that.

The birds sang back in their own way.

Her paw started tapping a melody against the soft surface of the carpet below her.

"You can have the light of the world blind you, bathe you in grace..." her voice gained on power and melody, with the delicate echo since her mouth was still in her house and singing through an open window

She didn't have the courage to stick her head out in fear someone might see her. The birds however didn't seem to mind, their wings flickered and little throats started to sing more fiercely than before.

"But I don't see so easily what you hold in your hand. Cause castles crumble, kingdoms fall and turn into sand..." she prolonged the last word, tune of her voice leaving a pleasant, silvery, echo as her voice became more deeper and low

The birds paid her back with more of their joyful singing.

Her second paw started to tap at the floor in more swifter manner, by now creating the sound of someone playing on drums.

"You can be an angel of meeercy or give into hate you can try to buy it just like eveeery other careless mistake

How do you justify, I'm mystified, by the ways of your heart

With a million lies the truth will rise to tear you apart"

She bit her lip, paws still tapping their melody as she by an uncontrollable impulse craned her neck forward, pushing her snout just barely past the frame of the window, Enough for her eyes to scan the surroundings.

She looked from left to right, making sure that no one is there. When she knew she was safe she directed her gold gaze at the birds.

The smile on her snout grew a little wider.

"Woah!" a muffled, melodic scream burst from her throat

The birds as if acting like loyal fans let out their own melodic cries.

"No one gets out alive, every day is do or die

The one thing you leave behind

Is how did you love, how did you love?"

There was a sudden snap coming from the outside, with wide eyes she jerked her head back swiftly inside. Quenching to the best of her ability the giggle that rumbled in her throat.

It was only a twig being torn from one of the branches of the tree, yet even some of her birdy chorus got spooked by the unexpected noise.

Some remained however, continuing their singing.

She couldn't leave them alone.

"It's not what you believe, those prayers will make you bleed

But while you're on your knees..."

The wind made forced another snap, all of the birds sprang into the air. Her paws stopped tapping, realizing immediately that the show has come to an end.

"How did you love, how did you love, how did you love?" her voice with each sentence lost on its melodic strength at the end turning into a an accapela whisper

A good finish all in all.

With a soft chuckle she closed the window, she held onto the handle for a while, trying to convince anyone that would be actually looking her way that what she done here is perfectly normal and mature thing to do.

It was doubtful anyone would believe her.

She jumped back from the window as if it would suddenly spit bolts of lightning, she ran from her bedroom, giggling on the way. Paws carried her into a well decorated living room in a style of tribal ornaments of a cheetah village and a little modern touch of mole culture.

It was like her legs knew what was coming, already familiar with her excesses.

In this room was a big closet, in there she kept all her clothes, all of her priestly robes, working outfit basically. The step of insanity was over, it was time to get ready for work, Fink should be coming any minute now.

She looked around the room however first, a sad whine leaving her throat when her eyes ran over two mirrors, placed on the walls in the corner of the room, revealed by the pulled back curtain, from a distance it looked like some sort of a dressing booth.

It might be just that in fact, however she used that particular room for other purposes. It was there where she done all of her painting work, doing both claws and scales. The ground over there had loose floorboards, in there she hid all her dyes and other beauty enhancing ingredients. The loose floorboards also served as perfect hooks to hold the tape, or paper she stretches all along the floor in the booth when her beauty sessions are about to begin.

It wasn't the best technological solution, that's for sure, there are other ways for sure to protect your floor from dyes than actually ruining some parts of it. It served her purpose and that's what mattered.

She really wanted to do her scales, just a little, in a very inconspicuous place, unfortunately she knew she had no time for that anymore. All that bed thinking took a big chunk of it away.

When fun is over this house no longer has its charm, not after her stepsister moved out and she was left here alone. Solitude had its perks of course and it perfectly synergised with her shy nature, but it was so boring here after a while of loneliness.

She really liked living with a roommate, which completely argued with her solitary nature, but when there is another soul to share the fun with you it never gets boring. Sparx was one such friend, but he was a boy, you can't work on claws or your body with a boy, they don't have the touch and sensitivity for it.

Or patience.

Besides her stepsister who, now when she has a mate, has barely any time for her the only girl she knows that she can call a friend is Cynder. Her thoughts momentarily rushed down the memory lane and the laughs and fun they shared during their beauty session, right there in that booth. She has still somehere the paper with her pink form imprinted on it after she tripped over her friend's black tail and dropped, belly first right at the wet with dye ground.

She really hoped they could do this again some time.

She felt absolutely no regrets about such thoughts.

How did you love...

She shook her head, there was no time for daydreaming and reminesce, Fink should be knocking at the door any second now, it was time to get dressed.

She reached into the closet and pulled a lever she was extremely familiar with by now.

The robes in her closet were aligned like any other clothes in any other mole or cheetah closet, here however instead on standard hangers her robes were placed on hangers that only looked like standard ones.

The moment the lever went down the closet came to life, looking like a wooden slider awakening from slumber. The mechanical hangers moved, stretching the robe and turning it around,you could clearly see the holes in it that are perfectly sized to accommodate her tail and wings.

The robe was turned around so the part where her head goes was directed at the wall of the closet. The stretched robe was then lowered down, perfectly matching her frame, all she had to do now was to step inside and lower her head to move underneath it and then slip every part of her body that needed slipping into the right hole.

Fink's invention.

It's not a dragon's custom to dress for visitors, scales are both clothes and armor in one. She however had a different approach for that matter, all her robes looked the same so she didn't waste time choosing the right one. She merely put the nearest one on and welcomed the brilliant mole, this was her idea of showing her appreciation.

Fink also made sure that she won't hurt herself, while getting in was no problem, you simply waited for the mechanism to stop moving, the going out process was a completely different thing. If you weren't careful there was a possibility that you might move the lever that controls the mechanism back, which you had to do in the right moment for the hangers to release the clothes.

This is why she insisted on every measure of safety possible, already very well familiar with her manual skills. Fink provided, he mounted bars and all sorts of fences, it was like stepping into a pen for a horse. He constructed it in such a way that you had no chance of reaching the lever without anything else, but your tail and only when it was in the right position. That is dressed in the robe.

She slapped the lever back, the hangers let go of the robe and retracted back to their illusionary normal shape. The robe flew down and perfectly aligned itself on her body. As if it was a part of her figure from hatching.

She was ready, another day of work is about to begin. She moved to the corridor immediately, siting there and awaiting the soon to happen knocking stirred by her favorite mole.

Gold eyes widened, breath was cut off, paw immediately shot to her neck where it rubbed the scales in nervous bashfulness.

Favorite mole.

A bad choice of words considering her profession and the profession of the mole she considers her favorite.

In this silent house she however didn't feel bad about it.

In this silent house...

Too silent.

Awkwardness evaporated, gold eyes returned to their normal size only for a second since momentarily frowned as she aimed her gaze at the door.

Fink should be knocking at them already.

He was never late before, visit to her house was the first step in his working day. Beginning of his schedule, as a priest she was aware how chores look like. Those are the moments that are the sense of every working day, without them the day didn't feel complete.

It was maybe stupid, but this is how it is, chores for a working, morning person are exactly the same as a glass of milk in the morning for others. You can live without them, but what for?

Fink was like her, a working soulmate, this is why the surprise why he still wasn't here.

The longer she stared at the door the better she understood why he might be running late. When it comes to people like them usually it is work that is the problem. Sometimes, even if you do everything right and in perfect, learnt order, sometimes things just don't want to go the right way.

You sometimes have to stay longer to do the final cleaning, or sometimes work simply exhausts you so badly that you just can't get out of bed.

This is exactly why Fink didn't show up yet, he has a brilliant mind of a technician, sometimes such mind can be overused, or just not satisfied until the task it planned to do is finished.

Minutes passed and the door was silent as the rest of the house. After some more minutes even her breathing became barely audible, like a shy breeze on a windless, hot, sunny day.

She started to dislike silence.

To make things worse it showed no intention of trying to change her mind.

She started to worry and feel scared. Sudden changes, unexpected occurrences are only welcome during fun time. When her mind is set on the serious path it likes to follow it without interruptions. Chores her mindset had to complete in order to feel calm.

Of course there are many life situations that can hold you back, every creature has a heart. No matter how enduring your mind is, it will always wince when the heart is stabbed.

Silence grew on her, she felt as its invisible tentacles crawled around her body.

She couldn't help it, she was a coward and her mind as to taunt her sent all those ugly images and thoughts to make her even more visible. To the point that she no longer felt she is alone in this house.

Which was that more terrifying since she had her eyes on the front door for quite a while and they didn't move an inch.

With a whimper she dashed forward, with the intention to get out of here as quickly as possible or she goes mad from all this stress.

She could feel the power of the tension squeezing her brain like a chuck.

She practically jumped when she got close enough to the door. The handle went down without any problems, door opened up with ease.

"Hi!"

She screamed, throwing herself back with such a force as if she would collide with some kind of forcfield. A whiny grunt silenced her screams when her back roughly hit the solid floor, paws despite the pain shot up, covering their owner in a futile attempt of a victim to somehow cover his vitals.

"Coriza! Are you ok?!"

The fear and screams were somewhat beaten down forcefully into whatever hole in her body they were climbing up from. The voice, the truly worried and scared voice, as a priest she recognize true fear from a fake one.

This one was true as the floor below her.

She moved her paws away, she had to squint her eyes since she was blinded by the sudden, burning light from ahead. Everything was a fiery blur at first, only after a couple of seconds her sight adjusted itself. Revealing a red snout in front of her with black slits trapped within yellow eyes, the young, red snout was probably more terrified than her.

"Flare?" Coriza muttered, her voice was as blank as her, what she believed to be her pale snout.

"Sorry!" he whined, momentarily diving down, forcing his head through her paws "I didn't mean to scare you!"

His move forced her paws to brush against his fiery mane. With a crying yelp she threw her legs wide open, in fear she will get burned.

She felt no such thing.

In fact one of his burning, feathery extensions on his elbow was touching her shoulder and besides a pleasant warmth and the fact that it felt like an actual feather there was no other feeling. Especially no searing hot pulses that would melt her alive.

She was still shocked by his reaction, in any other situation her paws would remain stale, paralyzed, pretending as if they were dead. Right now however, driven by curiosity, she accepted his offer to help, wrapping her paws around his neck. She shivered when the pleasant warmth from his mane spread all around her body.

Hind paws intertwined on his rump to the best of their ability.

The moment she pulled herself up, he slid under her, tilting his body in such a way that it made her slid on top of him and nudged her to climb.

In a blink of an eye she was on top of her burning support, who lowered himself to a prone position, allowing her legs to touch the ground gently. She stepped over him, releasing him from the burden of her body and sighing sadly when the feeling of warmth dissapeared.

"Thank you" Coriza said gratefully, bowing in respect

"You don't have to thank me"Flare shook his head, the dangling from his forehead part of his mane shot small sparks in the air "It's my fault"

"The intention matters, you rectified what you believed to be a mistake. Not all would act so gratuitously like you did"

"You want to say that there are people who would ignore a pretty girl in need of help?"

She smiled politely at the sound of this thoughtless compliment, paw bashfully reaching to her forehead to pet the mane there.

"I'm not certain about the pretty part but... dear Ancestors!" she gasped

Flare swallowed in panic, muscles tensing.

"What?"

She patted her mane, in all of this she forgot to clip her hair, she had to look really stupid with her mane flicked over her horn.

Blush intertwined with the color of her cheeks, she looked around in panic, looking for a good escape route.

"Nothing! It's just that....you want to come in?" she asked, stammered really, not even looking at her guest

Flare looked behind himself, at the wide open door at the end of the corridor. He didn't understand where he was supposed to go in. It's not like there are any other doors here, at least from his spot he can't see any.

"Come in where?"

"Feel like at home" she didn't hear him, momentarily making her way to the living room

"Coriza?" he followed her shyly, not knowing what else to do, the distress haunting her made him nervous, he hated seeing his friends troubled

Her paws dived into the nearest drawer, from which she withdrew an object he didn't recognize, from afar it looked like a tiny maw.

Flare giggled when she put the small mouth into her own, he didn't know why but he found this kinda funny. With the object secured she quickly waddled into a double mirrored booth, dropped on the ground so roughly that he thought she fainted and hurt herself.

When he was about to call her name she pushed up, he noticed that from underneath the floorboards she removed a comb. He recognized it, because once he tried to use it on his own mane when its previous owner lost possession of it. His aquirement didn't work well for its previous owner as well as the comb itself.

Coriza rose up on her hind legs, straightening herself up as she directed her attention to the mirror and her own reflection. Armed with a mouth in her mouth and a comb in her right paw she challenged her artificial self to the most weird duel ever. She was so concentrated on the task at paw that she seemed to forget about the whole world.

She looked absolutely adorable.

With her free paw she threw the mane off her horn, it flew down, completely covering her eyes and stopping right on her nose. He didn't many dragon girls with a natural mane, those that he encountered however liked to have their hair trimmed as to avoid any discomfort that it may cause.

He didn't really know how she combs her hair in the first place, it was pressed to her eyes. Only after a while he noticed her eyes reflecting in the mirror through the strands of her mane. Through her obscured vision she was doing a wonderful job, in no time her mane was straight and well groomed.

Perfect.

And she knew that too, since the comb landed on the floor in an instant. The paw that held it shot to her snout, gathered the hair and flicked it back, she threw her head back in accordance with her hurled hair.

Flare leaned against the nearest wall, gaze aimed directly at the priestess. His legs felt weaker than usual, he would be glad for the support if his sight wouldn't be so preoccupied.

There was something magical in this moment, she was absolutely stunning in this pose. Her revealed, glistening, gold eyes were like glimmering treasure in a recently opened chest. Her whole expression had kind of alluring effect by itself, a mix of confidence, determination and a certain piercing, saucy glare that would melt anyone's heart.

Click.

The maw bit into her hair, holding it in place.

Coriza examined herself for the last time, with a nod approving her new, standard look. She dropped on all fours, turning with the intention to leave, but stopped in her tracks with a short gasp when she spotted Flare in the exit of her special booth.

Leaning against the wall and staring at her with the devotion similar to an admirer who just found his dream painting in a gallery.

She swallowed uneasily, the thought about him being here, probably watching her as she prepared herself was a stressful thought in itself, but it was overshadowed by the sensation of feeling extremely vulnerable and naked.

A claw slid against her neck and down under the robe where she tugged at it and rearranged it, making sure it was still there. Her shoulders wiggled, hind paws moved closer together, thighs squeezed against each other.

"F-Flare? W-What are you doing?"

"Watching you"

She didn't know him long, but it was enough to tell, judging also from Sparx' approach, that he is rather blunt when it comes to understanding the world and its rules of good behavior. His straightforward and obvious answer was no surprise to her.

There was something about this response however that she never noticed in their previous meeting. Either because it wasn't there before, or perhaps because Sparx acted so normal that she didn't pay attention and simply took it for something granted and natural.

Here however, alone and with a burning dragon that could make a crisp out of her if he only wanted to, this obviousness wasn't natural.

In fact it made her nervous beyond any reasonable level. She was actually scared, it was her coward soul screaming, she was sure of its exaggeration, there was nothing to do about it.

That unhesistant, blunt response, stating of facts really, combined with that possessive look... All of this made her feel like she is some kind of prize, a rare breed trapped in a cage and the only one holding the key is right in front of her.

With no intention to set her free, because he likes what he sees.

"C-Can you stop?"

He blinked, the powerful look was gone, replaced by that of a scared child that received the first scold in its young life. She wasn't sure anymore if she simply didn't imagine the reason for all the bothersome thoughts and comparisons.

"D-Did I do s-something wrong?"

He stammered, a trait more suitable for a simple farmer than a possessive, dealer in _exotic_goods.

She honestly didn't know an answer to that question.

"No... I think I'm to blame here. It might sound stupid since I'm a priestess and my duty is to offer assistance to the best of my abilities, but I feel very crowded when I'm in the center of attention. Which is even more stupid considering my... habits"

"Sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" Flare whined, the light he was emanating dimmed under the pressure of this pitiful squeal

She smiled a toothless, warm smile.

"You don't have to be sorry.

"I just couldn't get my eyes off of you! You were so pretty and cute when you combed your hair!"

"Fla-"

"No!" a squeaky, terrified shout interrupted her "I-I-I mean y-y-y-you are a-a-always beautiful! T-t-t-then it w-w-w-was different! S-S-S-Special! W-W-When I saw y-y-your gold e-e-e-eyes reflecting in t-t-the mirror their g-g-glow reminded m-m-me of the f-f-first rays o-o-of the sun I-I-I-I saw for t-t-the very first t-t-time when I w-w-was moved to a-a-a cell with a b-b-barred window" he swallowed, lowering his head in embarrassment "You were magical as that sun. Beautiful you are always"

Coriza gulped, she heard more eloquent compliments in her life, hearing praises from the faithful when you are a priestess is as common as the sound of ringing gems in a marketplace. However never before in a compliment she felt someone's soul. She felt extremely humbled and touched, by the nice words and especially the determination Flare continued to show through his stammered speech.

It was undeniably difficult to bare through all of this, this alone, this knowledge of him making this sacrifice, was more valuable to her than any other pretty word serving as a compliment.

She couldn't think of a better compliment than that of opening your heart to suffering for someone.

Whatever trace that could still be found about Flare's awkward intrusion faded away completely. We catch to whatever reminder of those good scraps we have stored in our memories in times of plight. This is a treasure that we cherish greatly, perhaps it makes us act weird sometimes.

As a cleric, she understood the meaning of memory.

The thought of her being the reason for such a wonderful reminiscence was immensely pleasant for her good natured heart.

"I'm honored Flare"

Yellow eyes widened, head rose up to look at the snout responsible for this deep, silvery voice. Brighter flames began surrounding his body.

"I adore helping people. Sparx told me some things about your past, if I was a reason for you to find a spark of light in all of that gloomy memory lane" Coriza bowed, bending on one paw and spreading her wings "I couldn't think of a better compliment. I'm grateful for the chance you given me to satisfy my desires"

It was so strange for him, one friend would want to tear his eyes out while she thanks him for doing something he didn't put into much consideration. He was confused, he wasn't sure if this is a joke, luck, or like always, he understands things in the wrong way.

"You aren't mad?"

Coriza smiled warmly, she wasn't bothered by the fact that he asked a question she already offered an answer to. She found praise worthy in fact, it means that someone cares.

Assurance is as vital to someone as water is for a fish.

"No, I am not"

He grinned, putting up a joyful smile, his tail began to wag and body made a sharp jerk forward, wanting to move but was held back.

She felt that he wanted to hug her, but in the last moment decided that it would be too much.

It was cute.

"Cool!" he opted for a shout instead

With lips still stretched in a smile, she gently rose her hind paw, sliding a claw underneath the loose floorboard and pulled her leg back, mimicking a kick. She used her tail to swipe the comb into the recently opened storage area.

"For what it is worth I'm sorry that I caused you any discomfort. I was oblivious to the fact that you have troubles with your articulation of sentences"

"Huh?" he cocked his head, tail wagging still despite the bewilderment

She shook her head slightly, scolding herself silently for her lack of proper tact.

"I didn't know you stammered"

He waved his paw dismissively.

"It's nothing. I only stammer when I'm nervous"

"I understand" she nodded "I will do my best to refrain from causing you any bother in the future"

"No, no! Don't be sorry, it's me who scared you in your house! It's all my fault!"

Her head jerked back, a question she should ask in the very beginning popped into her head like a forgotten shopping ingredient you realized you missed to buy on your way home from the marketplace.

"Speaking of my house, how did you know where I live?"

Flare gasped, eyes widening in terror, head turning to the side and paw shooting up to ruffle the fiery mane uneasily.

"I...found it?"

Coriza chuckled.

"Sparx told you didn't he?"

"Umm...maybe"

"Flare, I already know Sparx told you to watch over me, you don't have to lie about it. I however applaud you for taking the brave way of meeting me eye to eye. It requires courage"

Flare blushed.

"I just did what Sparx told me"

She frowned in surprise.

"It was his idea?

"Yeah! He told me to watch over you, first thing in the morning he said. So I slept here, behind your house"

"You slept in my garden?"

"Yeah! So I wouldn't miss you! Sparx told me you get up early! Since he really prohibited me from getting inside your house I waited by your door until you came out"

"Didn't you say you were supposed to watch over me?"

"I couldn't see anything through walls and covered windows. Waiting for you by the door is the only way I could watch you"

She licked her lips, there was so much innocence in this obliviousness that it was amusingly sweet. She had to look at the ground to contain her uneven teeth slipping past her lips. It always meant she is humored too strongly for her will to maintain the proper tact and she considered something like this rude.

Especially when it was someone's naïve ignorance causing this smile.

"Do you know why Sparx sent you to watch over me?"

"Of course!" Flare nodded fervently, you could hear his skull rattling "You were so sad after the talk with that stinky mole that Sparx was worried about you and was afraid you might do something really bad. I was worried too! But you aren't sad anymore!"

"I feel better, yes, this is besides the point however. He asked you to watch over me because, as you said, he was afraid I do something reckless, but I can't do that with you with me here can I now?"

"Yeah! That's why I'm here!"

"Not really. Your presence restricts me, puts a chain on my legs, I might not do something reckless, but you have no idea if that is my honest decision or I'm just playing along. Do you understand where I'm going with this?"

Flare ruffled his mane in bewilderment, fiery sparks flew from his head like dandruff from unwashed hair.

"Not really"

"The idea of watching over someone is not to spend time with that someone, but observe him from a distance. Interfere only when I would do something you would think is bad. With you here I won't do anything bad and you will never know if it's because of you or if I really made up my mind"

"Oh no!" Flare squealed, cringing, his fiery body parts lost so much of their bright power that Coriza at first believed they faded away completely

"I messed up! I didn't know that! Sparx didn't precise what exactly should I do, he only wanted me to watch you"

Her paw acted automatically, touching the red shoulder to offer whatever kind of support her touch was capable of bestowing.

"You didn't do anything wrong. You cheered me up and I can promise you right here that I'm honest"

"Really?" red tail began another happy dance in the company of increasing strength of the fiery light "That means you're not going to that temple?"

"I am" Coriza looked through the nearby window where the day was beginning to flourish "Which reminds me that it's time to move on. I have to work Flare, I need to earn gems for food. Besides there is absolutely no force in the world that would stop me from helping people"

"There's that mole there!"

"I'm not going there for that mole" she moved past him, looking herself over in the mirror one last time, applying a tug on the robe, fixing a disproportion only a well diligent female eye could notice

"You're welcome to come along"

"Really?"

She nodded towards the exit door, before making her way there.

"Of course, we both triumph this way. I make gems so I can put something on my plate for the next month and you get the chance to watch me. A fair bargain I believe, yes?"

"Cool!" Flare exclaimed, prancing forward and out of the door, flames sparkling in every direction.

She stepped out in the open, taking a deep sniff of the fr...

Her nose wrinkled, seems like Flare or some of her neighbors wasn't careful with fire. It smelled like someone burned their clothes and since Flare doesn't have much penchant for material outfits it had to be one of her fire dragon neighbors that sneezed a bit too hard.

Despite those thoughts some force moved her head to the side, she didn't know why at first, there was nothing interesting there. Yet the smell of burnt cloth was stronger here...

No.

Not stronger.

It was fading, yet the wind made one last breeze, wafting exactly from the direction she was facing and so whatever she felt and smelled was intensified tenfold.

She smelled grass, noticed strands of the green earth being lifted in the air and flowing across the green terrain in front of her house. She smelled leafs and saw them flying and dancing right in front of her eyes. She smelled flowers, petals were making pirouettes along the walls of her home. She smelled ash and spotted a black trail fading into the wind right next to her doorstep.

She accidently inhaled a bit of it.

"Come on!" Flare urged from ahead

She looked up at her companion, with the odd smell tugging at the nerves of her nose she couldn't understand why, but watching those flames dancing all around the red, draconic body made her want to cry.

Words of a song formed on her tongue, never before they filled her with so much despair. All because they unexpectedly felt so much more appropriate now.

How did you love...