So returns the story of the dragon Cayas, lost and alone, his injured wing growing worse by the day... and only the, intreasingly puzzling local primates for company

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Stormblown Chapter 3

How his wing ached. No amount of willpower could free Cayas’s focus of that throb. Even with the growl in his belly and the sight of a herd of the, horned prey he’d sampled before. He had been in luck. Facing the morning, he had heard them close, and stalked in for his breakfast. But his wing… the pain that ached in it was so much more than the day before… had he managed to sleep on it…?
Violently he shook his head. Prey first, wing thoughts later. Lest they notice him on their own, Cayas groaned and just committed. He had no patience for the long stalk. The difference was, noticeable. Only a second, but they hesitated, heads turned to the source of noise, bodies primed to flee. But that extra second for their minds to acquire his image, and find it lacking from anything they knew, before they resorted to their, normal response. Some fled a lot quicker than others. His size and his sudden appearance enough for them. But enough did hesitate. His jaws locked onto one such beast.
His victim made a screech of sound, the last confirmation the remainder needed to disappear, but Cayas wasn’t greedy. His forepaws slammed to his prey, and its fight ceased. Jaws clenched till bones cracked, and the dragon lifted away a mouthful, tossing it back with two sharp jabs of his snout, and swallowing. He wasn’t starving, not like his last hunt. But his stomach was calling for the meat. He had a lot of healing to fuel, he supposed. But he spared it only a brief thought before biting for more, his tail thudding slightly. These things didn’t taste half bad…

Teeth locked in a painful grimace, Cayas wandered the short distance back to his… the word home came straight to mind, before he ruthlessly crushed it. This was no home… it was a hole he crawled in. But that didn’t offer much comfort… the word home, even referring to this place offered a feeling of sanctuary in his heart. But it didn’t help the current problem.
Every careful step sent a tiny ripple up his flanks, the ripple meeting the wing joints to send the faintest quiver along the membranes… and the agony that flared from his injured wing was immense. It was getting worse. There was no doubt in his mind on that anymore. It wasn’t exactly surprising, he’d admit, but admitting it made a dark abyss swell deep inside him, threatening to consume every happy thought.
Once free of the trees, Cayas sat before the entrance to his… den, yes, he could accept that word. It was accurate enough, and less depressing than hole. Reluctantly he looked along the hurt wing, spreading it much as he could, enduring the creeping pain with a keening whimper.
It looked nasty. Maybe it wasn’t broken, he mused, but the bone had to be fractured, nothing short of such damage, surely, could explain such pain. The wound was foul. He could still see traces of sand and moss caught in the viscous oozes around the edge of the yellowed red tear in his scales. It was right at the wrist of the limb… in fact, if he peered, he wondered if the, vestigial thumb claw had been torn off.
His stomach wrenched with a pressing urge to reintroduce him to his breakfast, so Cayas folded the wing slowly, feeling hardened pus cracking where it had been, amid the folds. This was sickening… but what could he do…?
He turned his eyes from the gruesome sight and padded into his den again. He needed a distraction, and he hadn’t enacted his, little civilised habit yet today.
There, right against his wall was the, increasing spread of scratched script. It was comforting, in its way. Made his den feel less like some primitive cave.
Once more he sat, with his good wing spread to let its luminescence fall on the wall and raised a claw to the stone. For a moment he watched it… his claw was shaking a bit, but he pressed it to the stone regardless.
“My wing is getting worse” he admitted to the stone “The wound is unclean, I fear it may be infected. I reflect, it may not be broken, perhaps time and rest could heal it, but not if infection spreads. I could lose the wing, or worse” Cayas hesitated, snorting to himself “I remember stories of dragons, who were brought down by weather, having their wings trapped under stone, or, infected. The wings are delicate things, it wouldn’t be too difficult to bite through the bone and tear it off, like they did. But the thought fills me with a deeper nausea than the sight of my injury. For now. My wing must become my focus regardless. I am fed, so perhaps I will try resting in the sun for a time, that as always recommended to me when I was sick as a dragonling. And I have little else I can even try” he frowned at the wall. Was this really all he had accomplished this morning… “Perhaps the small primate will return again. I suppose this could be a good opportunity to watch it, and distract myself” he added as a consideration, before lowering his claw. Bitterly thinking to himself, better not to waste wall space on trivialities… who knew how much he’d need if he was stuck here.
With a concerted effort to avoid estimating how long he could be forced to live in this cave, Cayas turned and padded out of his cavern. The ache in his wing still punctuating his steps.

At least the sun was out today, Cayas mused as he let the sleepy stupor of digestion overcome his mind as he basked in the growing light. Much as it had hurt doing so, he’d spread out his injured wing a bit with the other, to further catch the warmth across the membranes. He wished he knew enough about infection to know if heat would aid it, or his body in the ongoing conflict. The warmth was nice enough anyway, though the scent of the injury was drifting unpleasantly to his senses. Maybe that was the heat, or maybe it was just the movement he’d forced, cracked open some, inner stink… or both. Regardless, the sickening smell was ruining any good mood he might have found in the warm light.
Much as he could he put it out of his mind, and hoped he’d get used to it enough to ignore, for now.
Even dozy as the allure of digestion made him, he didn’t miss the sound of movement. Opening one eye he peered into the brush. For a moment, he felt sure he saw a flash of unfurred hide. So, it was back.
Idly he kept his eyes pried open, watching the bushes and high plants that clambered on the treeline for the precious sunlight denied them deeper under the canopy. He could hear it, he was sure. Quite suddenly, he could see it too. The little head popped into view, for a moment, it met his eye before disappearing down again. Cayas waited, listened, but he didn’t hear it retreat. It was being very still. It must know it had been spotted… was it listening for him, as he was for it?
Soon enough the head popped up again, looking at him. It rose slower this time but stayed in view even as he watched. So, it had decided he wasn’t chasing it… good to know he could trick it into relaxing its guard just by staying still.
It took a little longer, till the primate eased forward, and Cayas got a better look. It really was a gangly creature. Such long limbs on a lithe frame. Any doubts he might have had to its animal group were squashed. Definitely a primate. Though the bare hide was more curious, as was the flat features. It had no muzzle to speak of, though the features on its face seemed very pronounced. Bizarre, but surely with purpose. What he did start to notice, was where it was looking. His wing.
A, chittering, grunting sound came from it, or, a series of sounds, rather. Cayas listened, briefly curious. Pauses, rising and falling. A sort of communication, he presumed. Wasn’t it alone? Or was it really chirping at him…? Why…?
“Odd creature” Cayas replied, in the growls and whistles that made up his tongue. He saw it perk a bit, looking at his muzzle. A few moments later, somewhat, comically, he heard it, rasp, and whistle back at him. Was it mimicking? Maybe its kind mimicked predator sounds… for protection, or just to share knowledge with their kind, he considered. That would make sense. Had it just been trying to provoke sounds from him…?
He broke from thought, to growl slightly as the creature moved a bit closer, its focus back on the wing. Maybe this was why it was finally coming out of hiding. It saw he was injured. The forward eyes on it could just be for tree climbing… but may also suggest predation. Surely it wouldn’t be so foolish…
It recoiled a bit, one of its paws rising to cover its face… maybe it had reached scent range, Cayas considered bitterly. Whatever the reason, it seemed spooked, the small primate scampering away again. The dragon hummed to himself, settling his head. Well, that had been amusing while it lasted…

Cayas had slipped into a doze, by the time a soft noise returned. It was more an irritant than anything. The heat of the sun had been lulling him into a nice, painless stupor. The conscious world had aches. The sounds from the brush were the same as earlier, and sure enough soon the hairless little face poked back into view.
The dragon snorted to himself. Seemed curiosity had won in the little thing. Still, in some ways it was surprising it paid him so much attention. Surely it had other things to be doing with its existence.
Cayas’s interest flared enough to shake off the daze of sleep, when the little thing moved from the bushes again. It was carrying something this time. A cold feeling sank into the strewn dragon. There was one possibility he hadn’t considered. Had it assessed him vulnerable and gone back to call the hunting pack? His head rose as he inhaled the air and perked his ears. He couldn’t sense any more of them… but this time the little one wasn’t hesitating as much, but approaching his wing. It did move cautiously, looking to his head and making those, chirrups of sound.
Reluctantly Cayas relaxed his stance just a bit. He didn’t like how it was moving towards his wing, but it was alone… he was curious what exactly it was about. Neck tensed, ready to strike it, he watched the primate nearing his injured wing. The, object it carried looked like, some sort of, woven plant fibre… revealing itself as a method of, carrying. The small primate set it down, drawing, more objects from the container.
For a moment, Cayas stared, a, mad thought coming to his mind. He saw, strips of wood, some, hard-mud looking pot of, something that smelled foul but, familiar. He knew that harsh smell, or something like it. That sharp sting was, just like the scent of the ointment his mother had applied to his wounds when he was young, and overcurious. As the creature sat by the wound, looking frequently to his muzzle with those, same chirrups, again and again. Could it be…?
His teeth bore a moment as a sharp object rose in the small creature’s hand but, though instinct commanded he strike it down, Cayas held back. No, this, seemed familiar enough he’d let it play out. What did he have to lose?
Pain lanced along the wing arm, followed by a sickening sensation of relief as the small creature touched the bladed object close, a puddle of revolving ichor pooling under the wing. The blade was put away, the small dextrous paws instead bringing up some… fabric, not so unlike the hanging garb the creature itself wore. The, greenish ooze the creature had brought stung when it was rubbed along the wound, yet Cayas felt a warm flicker inside him. It was, familiar, he knew that sting. This primate was really trying to heal his wing?
As he watched, the small primate bound the bones of the wing arm tight with the strips of wood it had brought, wiping the wound clean, then packing in more of its, stinging greenish sludge. The, same vocal sounds repeated again and again from it, but its eyes never left the task. Till finally it stood itself, padding back, and looking to his muzzle.
Cayas had been watching it for some time now, the sun was ebbing down behind the trees. Its stance was low, submissive he felt, as it backed away. He flicked his tail heavily “now why did you do that…” Cayas mused to himself, watching the scurrying primate as it dipped back into the forest and fled away.
Curious, he brought his head around to look at his wound. It ached, throbbing pain, but… it felt a bit better. Bound and tight and a bit stinging but… better. The antiseptic scent stung his senses but clouded out the scent that had so sickened him before. The wound and surroundings looked a lot, cleaner now… but for the green sludge. If he had to guess, he’d say it was some sort of, mixture of crushed and pulped plants… maybe mixed with something else. He wasn’t sure. It looked starkly primitive but… the small thing had attended to his wound… why…?
The question pulsed heavily inside his skull. His chest heaved with excitement and fresh hope for his wing, but that question returned, again and again… why, why had the little bite-sized prey thing done, well, anything to help him. Time would tell if his wing would recover but, the primate had tried certainly.
Careful as he could, Cayas eased the injured wing back against his side, folding it with a paw. The bindings held. Much as he was keen to best serve this new good fortune and continue to rest, the question flared in his mind demanded answer. He knew where the nest was… surely, he had time to go and peek again. For something, maybe he had missed…

Walking didn’t bring as deep a pain in his wing, for now. In some ways Cayas was enjoying the little jolts of discomfort, they served as a heartening comparison. Still, he moved slowly and avoided bumping into trees. Curious he may be but, if he felt he risked the wing, that would be an end to this little adventure.
Still, he felt it took less time to find his way to the nest this time. Perhaps the little creature’s trail was clearer to him now, or he was just better at disentangling it from the other scents… whatever the reason, he didn’t spend as long fumbling in the trees.
Once more he crept up to the higher ground he had chosen before, although this time, it wasn’t unoccupied. So distracted peering towards the nest, he almost noticed too late the primate there. In fact, what alerted him wasn’t the creature itself but, another mammal with it. A, smaller, four legged one, that made sharp, startling sounds.
Cayas turned his focus upon the two mammals, eyes narrowing. Quickly it was apparent they were, exactly where he had been the day before, but more interesting was the new, creature. He had spotted them before… or something like them. Low mammals, sharp muzzles, pointed ears. It looked like a wolf… or something like one, a relative perhaps. How odd, he reflected, as it wove, back and forth. Didn’t it notice the primate by it. In fact, the primate made sounds to the, wolf, and it looked back to the taller creature.
An intriguing sight, enough so that he forgot to pounce. Instead Cayas blinked as the, older of the primates, and the, wolf creature retreated, together, back towards the nest. The wolf had looked to the primate, for guidance? Like a pack alpha. The dragon sat, looking down towards the nest of the troupe. Now he thought about it, he had spotted other animals near the nest, but had dismissed them. Looking more closely. He saw sign of more of those, small wolves. One or two anyway, following the primates… something clicked in his mind. He had his answer… now he had better leave.
Grunting, Cayas turned and stalked back the way he had come, adding a little haste to his step. He had not intended to be spotted so near their nest… he hoped they didn’t move. But he hadn’t expected such a symbiotic union. He simply had to write about this.

It took a little longer to backtrack to his den than he had wanted. Being careful of his wing had taken some effort, and this time, he made some, meagre attempts to obscure his trail… or the scent of it anyway. There was little he could do to hide the passage of his bulk.
As relieving as it was to look upon the den again, it did make Cayas feel a little bitter. He should never see, a hole in a cliff with such fondness…
Regardless, he padded up and in, watching behind himself but, no sign of anything following him. If they had any sense, they’d flee him, not chase him… although the latter would be favourable. They looked edible prey, it would be a shame to chase them off.
The embers of a morning fire were long since ebbed, but the heat remained, warming Cayas’s den as he drew in the last of his tail, sitting before the wall. His claw trembled as he brought it to the wall, but this time it was excitement.
“Today has been a fascinating day, and a fortunate one. To my shock and surprise, the small primate that so watches me came close, and took upon itself the task of cleaning my wing and wrapping it. Those small dextrous paws were well suited to the task. Dare I say, even if the means are primitive, the detail was precise above what I’d get from a fellow dragon” Cayas stopped himself, taking a breath. He had to keep from rambling, he had a lot to get down… but no need to use the whole wall.
“Still I worry about my wing, but my chances are better than they ever were. The boost to my morale is warm and delightful. Though now those primates intrigue me ever more. As any reader of this may wonder, and I surely did, the question of why it chose to help me is, becoming clearer” Cayas swished his tail a bit “misplaced empathy. I noticed on a revisit to their, nest that they appear to accept other species as part of their troupe. I saw, what I can only call a wolf in the company of one. An intriguing symbiosis, two pack species blending together” He tapped his tail to the stone behind him “I recall the theory of empathy, as taught to me when I was young. While every creature is born to a new world, new senses, things it has never known or seen, and yet they know their own species immediately, having never even seen themselves. Some imprint on the first movement, others though, like the mammals, seem to instinctively recognise. The how, is where this comes together” he rumbled to himself “shapes, positions, these they recognise, and are drawn to. But those things they look for in their own kind, they may find in another. Predatory, social, furry, is it any wonder they look to a wolf and mistake it for their own kind? Myself is quite a stretch… but if this, primate saw me building, convinced itself I was safe, and placid. Some instinct drove it to try and treat my wounds as it would one of its own. Fortunate for me indeed” Cayas hummed “Although it is quite heartening to finally have something firm to assure me they are indeed merely mammals, and not holding a dragon’s intelligence. For if they had the self-awareness to consider their own instincts, why would one fail to realise I am not one of them, and extend its pack empathy to me? It would not”
Cayas swished his tail slowly, snorting in contentment with his logic “Still, today does raise an interesting point. Should I feel indebted to the small thing?” he clicked his tongue for a moment “perhaps, if I can, I will forgo devouring it, should I become hungry. If it has indeed mistaken me for its own kind, it may even try to offer food if it sees me struggling. This, little one may prove very useful”
Cayas eased back from the wall, looking down upon his injured wing. Now he had hope. If he could fly, all his problems would be smaller. He just had to focus on that now. Eat, drink, rest and stay warm. Let his body heal. Still… he found himself considering the small creature.
Slowly he wandered his bulk back outside, to stretch out and enjoy the setting sun, listening to the woods. In some ways he was still expecting to be trailed by the troupe, to look at him. Might as well give them a good look if so. Surely, they’d balk at hunting one as large as he.
One thing he wondered to himself, had the smaller one mistaken him because it was so young, or would the others do so also…? If they did, they might prove an easier source of food than he thought. He’d have to be careful about that though. No feeding could be witnessed. Surely that sight would break through any mistaken instinct they may hold. And fear would spread through the troupe quite quickly. If he was going to eat them, he’d have to take them one by one. He licked his chops slowly; he wondered how they tasted.
The dragon yawned, stretching himself out a bit. Maybe he’d just sleep here and give his wing some air. The cave was developing an unfortunate stink anyway… no need to add to that. When he looked past being stuck here, the region had a beauty of sorts. The sun gleamed off the distant sea, the trees swayed in the salty breeze. It might not even be a bad place to live. Perhaps once he got home other dragons would like to spread here. One reason for their expedition was to scout for new liveable regions. Maybe they really would find him, in the source of their work…
Cayas sighed a bit, rumbling to himself. It had been a good day indeed. He found himself drifting off as he thought dreamily of all he could do if his wing got better. Scouting his surroundings, hunting, just, getting around faster too… and of course, getting home to his nice smooth floor, the warm skylight, the squishy cushions. His tail swished as he drifted off to sleep in the setting sunlight.