FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The screen door burst open with a crash, unleashing an excited young boy onto the world. His blond hair shown in the sun as he ran towards the family's Subaru wagon with a suitcase perched on one shoulder, then tossed the suitcase into the open hatch. He rubbed his hands on his worn jeans then ran back to the apartment for another suitcase. They were going camping and he was so excited he could hardly stand it!

“Ryan, slow down before you trip and kill yourself!" a woman called as she walked out of the apartment. Her long brunette hair swung in a braid down her back as she carried a suitcase to the car and placed it inside with a little more care than he, then walked back to where Ryan was standing with an imprudent grin on his face. She smiled down at him and ruffled his hair, her hazel eyes meeting his blue ones.

“Sorry mother!"

“That's ok; just be careful. Now go see if your father needs anymore help."

“Okay, mother!" he said and walked back into the apartment at a slightly more sedate pace that she knew wouldn't last long in his excited state.

She gave it about two minutes.

Ryan walked into the living room where his father was trying to shove the lid down on an overstuffed suitcase. “Need some help, father?" he asked.

“Sure, just push down on it there," he said, gesturing to the lid. Ryan put his full weight down on it and it shut with a click. “There!" his father said with a smile.

Ryan grinned and then threw his arms around his father's stocky frame as best he could. He patted the boy on the back. “Alright, lets get to the car and on the road to Glorieta."

Glorieta New Mexico: that's where they were going. The church had a conference center there and they were able to get tickets at a discount. They scrimped and saved for months and months to afford them and his father had finally purchased them just a few short weeks ago. He had hardly been able to contain himself when his father brought the tickets home.

“Yes, father!" Ryan said and bolted out the door before he could be reminded to slow down. His father sighed and shook his head with a smile as he followed him out the door, carrying the last suitcase. He put the suitcase in the car and shut the hatch, then turned to Ryan's mother. “We have everything?"

“Yes dear," Ryan's mother said and walked up to him, putting her arms around him, giving him a kiss. She ran her hands through his black, thinning hair. “Going to need a haircut soon."

“What there is of it!"

“And when it falls out you'll be the most handsome bald man in all the world, Allen!" she said grinning outrageously.

“Why Beth, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were flattering me!"

“Would I do that?" she asked, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Ugh!" Ryan said and they both laughed at him. “We have checked and double checked. Can we go?" he asked, fidgeting.

“Better to check twice than to find out that you missed something you needed," his father remarked. He turned to his mother. “You have his medical kit?"

“As if we'd go anywhere without it!"

Ryan's medical kit, a small leather purse, rather satchel like, had a dragon emblazoned on the cover contained salves and other medications that were specific to dragons.

After all, when your son was a dragon, you never knew when you would have need of them.

They hadn't often; Ryan had proven to be quite healthy. His mother could only recall once where they needed them because he managed to scrape his hind leg while in dragon form. According to him, he hadn't even cried or squirmed when they put the salve on it to help it heal and avoid infection.

Well, at least not too much anyway.

“Say, where did you get that stuff?" Ryan asked curiously.

“Let's get on the road," his father said, “We can even stop and get you some crumb donuts and chocolate milk."

“Really?" Ryan said, nearly bouncing in excitement.

They laughed and piled into the car. After a short prayer for travel mercies, they set out on the road, eagerly awaiting the adventures it held.

The engined droned as car climbed the grade towards a small town called Tehachapi. Ryan sat in the back seat chattering away about hiking, biking, and more improbable things that they were going to get to do while at camp. His mother looked back and smiled at him fondly.

As they drove, Ryan looked out the window at the golden rolling hills of the California countryside, the brightly colored wild flowers that just recently burst forth into riots of color setting him to smiling. He sang to himself as he watched the puffy clouds roll along, seeing all sorts of shapes and things in them as youth tended to. He laughed quietly as he saw a shape that reminded him of a dragon. That made him pause for a second.

Should he ask about being in dragon form while being at camp? He was allowed to be in dragon form at home so long as the blinds and curtains were drawn, he kept quiet, and he had his parents permission. But outside the house? Normally the answer was no, but they were going to be there for a long time in his estimation.

He knew sometimes his father became upset if he asked about being in his dragon form or even asked questions about being a dragon for that matter and so he considered for a moment before asking. This was important to him, he decided, and so he asked his mother. Always start with mother regarding things draconic, he thought.

“Mother?"

She turned and smiled. “Yes, Ryan?"

He hesitated a moment before asking. “Will I be allowed to be in my dragon form while at camp?" His father frowned and he sighed. He knew he shouldn't have brought it up.

“We'll have to see, Ryan. It's not like we're going to be gone that long," his father said.

“I know, father, I just do not like to sleep in my human form so very much."

“I know, Ryan; and watch how you speak."

“Yes, father."

They made a pit stop in Tehachapi, going to a restaurant they had visited many times before to use the restrooms and get something to drink. The restaurant had a model of the Tehachapi loop, a rail system that allowed the trains to get up enough speed to make it over the grade. While he had no specific interest in trains he watched it go around the model of the loop and listened to the narrator describe what was happening in fascination. His father came up behind him and patted him on the back and he looked up and grinned. “Father, can we get something to eat?"

His father looked at Ryan, eyebrows raised. “We just had breakfast a few hours ago."

“Yes but I am feeling so very hungry," Ryan said and looked around to make sure no one was listening. “I am a growing dragon!" Then winced at what he just said.

His father laughed and Ryan smiled back at him, relieved. “Well, we can't have that now can we? I suppose we can get a light lunch."

They sat down in a booth to eat. “This is so very nice!" Ryan said and sighed happily. He enjoyed being out with his family in restaurants because he felt as if he blended in with everyone else and didn't have to worry as much about how he acted or spoke. He was just another boy out with his family having a good time.

His mother smiled. “I know Ryan, but you need to watch how you're speaking."

“Sorry mother!"

“It's all right; just be careful."

As the sky grew dark Ryan and family looked for a place to eat and possibly stop for the night. They pulled in to a restaurant with a huge wagon wheel on the roof as decoration. “Looks interesting enough," his mother remarked as they pulled in.

“Busy enough too. Probably decent food then," his father replied.

The interior of the restaurant was decorated in old west meets Americana style, with route 66 signs and cowboy boots posing together in an odd historical collision. The hostess smiled as they walked in. “Party of three?"

“Oh, not sure how much of a party we are, but there are three of us, yes," his father said.

The hostess laughed. “Right this way then, my sedate group of three."

She lead them over to small booth and they sat down. She handed them menus to look over. “Your waitress will be right with you. Enjoy!"

“Thanks much," his father said.

They looked over the menus, trying to decide what to eat. “The omelets look good," Ryan's mother remarked.

He wrinkled his nose. “It is not breakfast time."

“So? You don't have to eat breakfast foods at breakfast!"

Ryan looked at his menu, they had given him a children's menu to his chagrin. He was old enough for an adult menu! Just because he was small for his age people were always mistaking him for younger. “Can I see your menu when you are finished with it?"

“Nothing in the children's menu for you?" his mother asked.

“I am not a child!" Ryan said indignantly and she laughed and handed him the menu. Ryan grumbled and looked over the menu, finally choosing tamales. He always enjoyed Mexican food. “I think I will have the tamales."

“Hmm. Not a bad idea. I think I'll have their mucho burrito," his father said.

The waitress collected their order and they found themselves in the random chatter about nothing that families found themselves in so often. After awhile Ryan picked up the children's menu and started to look through it.

“Now here I thought you were all grown up!" His father laughed.

“Just bored!"

He flipped through the pages of the “Exciting Dinosaur Adventure!" menu, snorting. He never quite understood why such things appealed to other kids but not him. “What is so exciting about this menu?" he asked his mother.

“It's to appeal to kids, Ryan."

“But I am- I'm a kid!"

“You're different."

His features fell as he looked down. “Yes. I know," he said softly.

She looked at his father worriedly for a moment and then patted Ryan on the arm and smiled at him. He gave her his shy half smile and went back to reading the menu. As he flipped over one of the pages, one of the dinosaurs caught his eye.

It was supposed to be a pterodactyl or one of the flying dinosaurs but the artist either wasn't that talented, or the printer had made a mistake. Either way, it had a decidedly draconic appearance to it.

Ryan stared at it for a long time, bemused, tracing his finger over the image. His mother noticed and frowned, sitting up a little to see what he was looking at. Ryan paid her no mind, his attention totally locked on the page. He reached out and ran a finger along the outline again. “It looks a little like me," he murmured softly.

She looked over at his father, startled and his father coughed, snapping Ryan out of his reverie. “Say, do you think you'd like a malt if you can finish off your tamales?"

Ryan grinned. “Oh yes, very much! And I will be able to eat all of it!"

“We'll see. Such a lot of food for a small boy like you," he said with a wink at his mother.

“I am not so very small!" Ryan said indignant once more and his father laughed at him while his mother surreptitiously put the children's menu into her purse.

Their waitress walked over carrying the steaming plates on a tray. “Alright, we have tamales for the young man, the mucho burrito for the sir, and an omelette for the lady," she said as she set the plates down. “Did you need anything else?"

“I think we're good for now," his father said with a smile.

“Very good. Enjoy your meal!"

Ryan ate happily, enjoying his food and looked around the restaurant occasionally, peering at the decorations or watching the waitresses as they walked past with plates food marveling that they did not drop any of it. He noticed a man sitting a few tables over was looking directly at him.

He quickly looked down at his plate and continued to eat, occasionally stealing glances up. The man met his eyes and smiled at him and Ryan flinched and ducked his head, quickly going back to eating. He slowed down as he felt the man's eyes on him, eventually just looking down at his plate, fidgeting, wishing the man would look someplace else or just leave.

His father looked at him with a frown. “Why aren't you eating?"

“Just tired," he mumbled, not looking up.

His mother looked around the restaurant at the other patrons and Ryan started to fret, knowing that she was trying to figure out what was bothering him and fearing how she would react if she knew the man was watching him.

“Ryan, please eat your food," his mother said gently. He nodded and ate a few bites, then glanced up at the man and swallowed hard and went back to staring at his plate. He glanced up and noticed his mother looking around and a pit formed in his stomach. He hoped she wouldn't notice he was being stared at.

His parents were very protective of him because of what he was and he hated the idea that they would sometimes treat him differently or get upset and take him out of situations they saw as being too threatening.

“That man was watching you wasn't he?"

Ryan shrugged nervously. “I g-guess so."

His father looked over for a moment. “He was watching. How long has he been looking at you?"

Ryan shrugged and fidgeted. “I know not, father."

“Great. Let's get out of here," his mother said worriedly.

“No. Finish your food and we'll get the malt to go. No need to draw attention to ourselves. Ryan, eat."

Ryan nodded and tried to eat, but every bite went down like lead, further upsetting his already roiling stomach. He noticed his mother looking at the man nervously a few times and her nervousness communicated itself to him and he started to fret all the more. She reached out and put her hand over his. “It's alright Ryan; don't get all worried."

He gave a half smile and nodded, then froze, eyes wide. He had always done that: froze if he were startled or frightened by something, utterly stop moving. Sometimes if he were close enough he would hide behind his parents or even leap up into their arms if he were in dragon form.

His parents thought it was some sort of survival instinct, relying on an adult dragon to protect him from danger.

His mother looked over and saw the man walking towards them. “Great!" she muttered.

“Just keep calm," his father said tersely.

The man stopped at their table and Ryan's eyes flicked up to him and then back to his mother, a small tremor running through him. “I was just admiring your son. Such a solid looking lad," the man said with a slight french accent.

“Thank you," his father said flatly but the man either did not hear or ignored the warning in his voice.

“What is your name son?"

Ryan looked at his mother again and then shook off the freeze. “R-Ryan sir."

“A good, strong name," the man approved. He considered Ryan for a moment and then leaned down and placed a hand on his arm. Ryan looked at his hand with dismay but did not draw away from him.

“Always be what you are, Ryan," the man said warmly. “You were given wings for a reason. Use them to soar!" He stood up and beamed at Ryan's parents. “A delightful child. You are so very lucky to have him."

He gave Ryan's arm a pat and whistled as he went to the register, paid his tab in cash, and walked out the door of the restaurant. Ryan watched him go, heart pounding in his chest. Wings? Did he know? Could he have known?

Ryan leaned against the door in the back seat of the car, brooding over what had happened, as he looked out at the stars as they twinkled through the clouds. He had always enjoyed looking at the stars and thought that maybe someday he would like to be an astronomer.

But for now his thoughts were consumed with the strange man back at the restaurant. The man had said that he had wings and that he should soar. Did he know that he was a dragon? It suddenly occurred to him that the man had said “so very" just like he would have.

Ryan spoke in certain phrases or idioms, using the phrases “so very much" or “I know not" rather than simply saying that he liked something or didn't know. Ryan saying “so very" didn't even indicate how much he actually liked whatever it was, it was just a formulaic phrase of sorts.

There were several others that crept up in his vocabulary as well as generally not using contractions. He told his parents that he could use contractions but that for some reason it was very difficult to do so.

Ryan jerked up straight at the realization. The man was a dragon; he had to be. If that was so it was the first dragon that he had ever come across other than himself. His heart pounded at the thought. He often wondered why there were no other dragons and why he was with a human family rather than a draconic one, not that he didn't love his parents but it was still odd to him that he was a dragon and they were not.

His parents would tell him little or nothing about how they got him other than he had obviously been adopted and that they loved him and wanted him from day one. He didn't know his biological parents names or if his adoptive parents had received him from them. Perhaps they had just stumbled across his egg one day and he just hatched for them, if he had even hatched like most of the dragons in the books; he could have been born live for all he knew. If he did hatch from an egg there was no telling how long he had been in the egg before he hatched. For all he knew his egg could have been laid centuries ago.

His parents would listen to him speculate and occasionally comment but mostly they told him not to worry about it right now. He hoped that meant that when he was older he would learn more. Perhaps that time was now, he thought. Perhaps he was old enough to learn more now. Perhaps this time they would tell him more about being a dragon.

He took a depth breath and steeled himself. “Mother?"

She looked at him wordlessly for a moment. “You were very brave back there, Ryan," she finally said.

“Thank you mother," he said, giving her his shy half smile. “But I was wondering at what that man said. He said that I had wings and that I should soar. Do you know what I think? I think the knew that I am a dragon and—"

“He did not know you're a dragon!" his father said abruptly. “And he didn't say that you had wings but to soar as if you had wings. People tell each other crap that like all the time; it doesn't mean anything."

“No father! He said I had wings! He must have known what I am!"

“He didn't know you're a dragon! Nobody ?knows you're a dragon! If you don't shut up about it I'll turn this car around and you can forget about camping!" his father yelled.

“Father—" ?

“Enough, Ryan!"

He looked over at his mother, tears streaming down his cheeks, and she shook her head at him. He sniffled and leaned back to look out the window at the stars again.

He always enjoyed looking at the stars.