After a confrontation with their incredibly dangerous boss, in the aftermath, several dragons are left to pick up the pieces. Will they be able to figure out what happened without their memories?

This is a heavily Plot™ based chapter
I'm uploading it at midnight because it's been a week since the last chapter and there's only like 2 more to go :v
_{CW: blood}
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Arro shook his head, rubbing his temples with both paws. He felt bleary, like he’d just taken a long nap. But he was sitting on a metal floor, surrounded by metal walls, on the slight incline of a hallway. He suddenly recognized the place. He looked around in confusion. He was still in the research facility.

Against the wall to his right was Kraz, slumped against it looking barely awake himself. The muscular Faerian winced and rubbed his eyes on the back of his arm. He opened them to catch Arro watching. “What happened?” he groaned. He looked around too. Then he sat up suddenly. “Where’s Zark?”

Arro glanced around again, realizing he had no clue. Rangavar was gone too. “All of them are gone.” It seemed like a safe assumption that if the other tall Glitarian weren’t gone too, they’d still be under her effect.

Kraz didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Arro glanced back to see the other Faerian gazing at him oddly. He pricked his ears at Arro’s attention. “Arro…” he said carefully. “How… how much do you remember?”

Arro frowned. When he tried to think back…

His eyes widened. “Rangavar is one of the monster-Darkals.” He could remember it vividly now. Zark’s powers had protected them, and he could suddenly recall their long trek up the hallway, finding Rangavar chained here, and then that other, powerful Glitarian entering the room almost immediately after. He frowned to realize that his brain had recorded nothing after that. Perhaps Zark’s powers weren’t limitless.

Kraz looked away. “Yeah.”

Arro had the feeling that Kraz wanted to say more, but they were both obviously still shaken, so maybe he needed time to collect himself. Arro started to push himself to his feet, feeling heavier than ever with the exhaustion. “Let’s go find Zark,” he suggested. “Whether or not he’s an asshole, we shouldn’t stay separated.” He ponderously trudged to the wall and offered a paw to the other dragon. Kraz’s foot still wasn’t looking too good.

After a moment, he took Arro’s paw and allowed the fat dragon to pull him up. “Thanks,” he grunted. He was balancing all his weight on the other paw again, wincing.

“Sure.” Arro slung Kraz’s arm over his shoulder and looked around. “I doubt he would have left us here willingly, so I’m guessing the ‘queen Darkal’ or whatever must have taken him. And, uh, taken Rangavar.” No matter what, Rangavar wouldn’t have just left Arro behind. Unless he thought he was keeping Arro out of danger—he could be like that sometimes—but he wouldn’t have just abandoned him down here otherwise.

Kraz simply stared down at the floor. “Yeah.”

A dragon of many words. Arro frowned. He wondered if the large, muscular Faerian was still recovering from shock. “We’ll find them, I’m sure,” Arro tried to reassure him.

Kraz continued to avoid his gaze, but Arro let it go. “Think they would have kept going upwards?” he asked instead.

Kraz glanced up the sloped corridor. Then paused. His eyes widened. “Um.”

Frowning, Arro looked too.

There was a trail of black droplets heading up the incline. Arro’s fur stood up. “Rangavar,” he breathed.

“Is Rangavar Edacan?” Kraz finally gave Arro a curious glance. He grimaced. “Zark is too. The… blood could be from either of them.”

If that was supposed to make Arro feel any better, it didn’t. Just because he was planning to cut all ties with Zark after this didn’t mean he wanted him injured or worse. And the alternative was that Rangavar was injured instead. “Let’s go.” No point in wasting time. Arro began to gently pull Kraz along. “They could have both gone this way anyway, even if only one of them was injured.”

The going was slow. Kraz continued to limp, leaning heavily into Arro’s soft, pillowy side. It was more difficult up each incline, although eventually, the blood trail turned off into one of the hallways, seemingly the one directly under ground floor.

Wait, no—another trail continued up the stairs. The two dragons paused. They shared a look.

“Let’s check out this hallway first,” Kraz suggested. “I think it’ll be easier to check this out before leaving, instead of going upstairs, and then trying to find a way back down.”

That sounded reasonable. Arro remembered that this hallway was long and straight; they couldn’t possibly get lost. “Alright.”

However simple and straight the corridor, it was still quickly evident that it wasn’t going to be any easier on their bodies. Kraz’s injury was really taking a toll on him, and Arro supporting his muscular weight as well as his own ample store of body fat was taking a toll too. Kraz jiggled against his side with every step, still clinging around his doughy shoulders with one arm, although at least Arro was well-padded enough not to feel uncomfortable. Other than the added pressure on his paws, that is. Muscles were heavy.

They both breathed a soft sigh of relief when the trail turned off into one of the rooms up ahead. Then Arro shook himself. He was supposed to be apprehensive. If the room didn’t lead anywhere else, they were about to find one of their friends—presumably in poor condition.

He became more nervous the closer they came, eventually he realizing it was the room where they’d spotted the pale creature before. He shared a glance with Kraz. He had no idea what they were about to find. “Ready to go in?”

Taking a deep breath, Kraz sharpened his resolve and nodded. “No point waiting.”

They entered the room.

At first, everything looked exactly how they’d left it. Arro glanced around, seeking the source of the blood, and his eyes fell on a closed glass container slightly to the side. There were black pawprints on the glass that Arro realized was more blood. Black, bloody pawprints.

There was a figure inside. Arro took several steps toward it, leaving Kraz standing by himself for a moment as the other Faerian also inspected the room. “Over here,” Arro said simply, taking a few steps closer. He walked faster as he realized who he was seeing. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Rangavar.”

Suddenly, Kraz limp-hopped over and put a paw on his shoulder. “Wait.”

Arro paused. As he watched, the dragon inside seemed to have finally caught the movement of Kraz’s more obvious lurching.

From what Arro could see through the glass, Rangavar looked completely normal—save for all the blood, of course. He’d had his back leaning on the glass, but suddenly turned more fully, eyes wide as he recognized them and put his palms against it. They were covered in blood too, and Arro knew all the prints must be his. He tried not to think about how badly he might be injured.

Arro cast Kraz a confused glance. “It’s him! We found him. And if he’s okay, we’ll be able to find Zark quickly enough. Rangavar can help protect us from that other Darkal.”

Kraz shook his head, his gaze looking a bit guilty suddenly. “You can’t let him out. He’s… one of them.”

Arro scowled at the shorter Faerian. “So?”

“So…” Kraz’s cheeks turned a bit red beneath Arro’s stare. “He’s dangerous. And, uh.” The dragon looked away again with the same expression as earlier. “He, um. He’ll probably be mad at you. We don’t know if he’ll attack.”

Arro stared blankly. “Mad?” That didn’t make any sense. He’d probably be relieved. Arro’s expression turned into a scowl. “Why would he ‘attack’ us? He’s not a wild animal.”

Kraz stared at the floor. “The other Glitarian, uh. She, um. She… made you hurt him.”

The blank expression returned to Arro’s face. “What are you talking about?” He turned back to Rangavar, who was still kneeling in the container with his paws pressed against the glass as he watched. The Darkal’s ears flattened as he sensed something was wrong.

Arro shook his head. “No.” He squeezed his eyes shut and thought hard for a moment. He remembered the other Glitarian as she entered the room and began talking to them. He’d been aware. He’d remember if something like that happened. He couldn’t have possibly hurt Rangavar. He wouldn’t have. He didn’t remember that. No. He never would have.

Arro pushed Kraz away. He felt a bit guilty when it almost pushed the other dragon over, unable to brace himself on both legs. “I would never. Even as a…” He tried to think of a word. He wasn’t going to call Rangavar a ‘monster’ again, whether he was Glitarian or not. “Even the way he was.”

“Arro, I’m sorry,” Kraz started again, but Arro didn’t turn back to him. “Listen to me. He might attack you, you don’t know what they’re capable of!”

“Aren’t you one of his friends?” Arro snapped. “Can’t you have a little faith in him?”

He looked back at Rangavar again. The Darkal looked distraught. He saw him mouth ‘Arro’ through the glass. Arro made up his mind and strode over. “Even if…” He shook his head. He didn’t want to entertain this line of thought. “Even if he wants to… hurt me,” he said uncertainly. Would Rangavar? “I would never abandon him. I… I love him.” In spite of everything that had happened, Arro knew it was true. None of this was Rangavar’s fault. He tapped the button on the front of the control panel, setting him free.

The smaller dragon seemed exhausted as he slowly shifted his legs towards the opening to slide out. Even so, “You’re okay?” were the first words out of his mouth.

“Yes, I’m okay,” Arro immediately reassured him. “We’re okay.” He reached out and pulled Rangavar’s shoulder forward to help him slide out. “Well, Kraz needs some medical attention, but we’ll be fine.”

When Rangavar swung his legs forward and pushed himself up from the floor of the container, he stumbled forward as soon as his feet touched the ground. Arro quickly caught and steadied him. “What happened to you? Where are you hurt?” Their eyes met, Rangavar’s looking immensely upset. “Where’s all the blood from?”

“I… I don’t… know.” He wiped his eyes on the back of his arm. Tears? He drew in a shaky breath, but couldn’t seem to get ahold of himself and suddenly couldn’t stop stumbling over his words. “She wanted him, and, he’s gone, and she’s gone, she, she went, and him, and, I didn’t—”

His voice cracked, and Arro pulled him close so that he could sob incoherently into his pudgy chest. Arro was at a loss for what to do. He’d never actually seen Rangavar cry before.

He cast a helpless glance at Kraz, but the other dragon was just staring at them, watching. Arro scowled at him and drew his wings in more tightly around them for some privacy.

They stayed like that for a minute or two while Arro held him. The smaller dragon was inconsolable. He mumbled a few more unintelligible words, one of which may have been ‘killed’, but Arro wasn’t sure. “It’s okay,” he tried to sooth him. He wasn’t sure it was working. Usually Arro was the one being soothed. “We’re safe now. It’s alright.”

Eventually, Rangavar was able to slowly calm his breathing.

“Are you sure about that?” said Kraz wryly from behind. Arro turned to glare at the other Faerian. Kraz stared back with his arms crossed. “There’s still a dangerous creature here. Right here in front of us, actually.”

Arro scowled incredulously. “This is Rangavar! Your friend? He’s on our side!”

“For all we know, he’s the one that took Zark!” Kraz snapped back.

Arro faltered. “Why would he do that?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Kraz glared. “He’s one of those Glitarian-creatures. Zark hates them.” He threw up his paws. “And obviously, Rangavar hates Zark! Why wouldn’t he try to hurt him??”

“Well considering that Rangavar was left here, and Zark is missing as well as that… other Darkal,” Arro growled, “it seems to me that she may have her own agenda. And also, how could Rangavar have both taken Zark, and been trapped here?”

Kraz stared at Rangavar uncertainly for a long moment.

Rangavar was still hugging the fat dragon as far as he could, his body sinking into Arro’s blubber. He glanced back at Kraz weakly. “I don’t know where Zark is,” he choked out.

Kraz scowled. “I’m supposed to trust you just because you say so?”

“That’s enough,” Arro interrupted. He rubbed Rangavar’s back a few more times, but he seemed to be calming down. “Let’s get out of here. We might have more luck following the other trail anyway, and maybe none of this will matter.”

“Trail?” said Rangavar blankly as Arro helped him straighten up. He was distracted a moment later as his knees buckled with exhaustion.

Arro caught him, but not before Rangavar had accidentally banged the back of his head on the control panel behind him and let out a weak growl. “C’mere. It’s okay.” Arro leaned over and put his other arm under Rangavar’s legs to scoop him up, trying not to let his hanging belly get in the way.

Rangavar didn’t say anything. He actually didn’t protest at all, silently leaning his head against Arro’s pudgy chest, like he might pass out. Arro was both glad the dangerously exhausted Darkal was accepting his help, and also alarmed that he was so exhausted in the first place.

He straightened back up with Rangavar in his arms. “Let’s get out of here.”

~

They all stared tiredly at each other. Kraz was in the roughest shape, his foot bandaged until a healer could get to it. He also had a few claw marks on his arms that he couldn’t remember acquiring.

Arro was mostly tired, giving his bruised feet a rest after being pounded all day by his own significant weight. The cracked and bruised scales around his midsection were a bit sore, too, although he’d heal well enough on his own.

Rangavar made out the best of them; somehow, he didn’t have any injuries at all.

Well, Arro couldn’t help noticing some bruising and cracked scales around his throat area, but the doctors had said he was alright. Arro wondered what it was from. He… was afraid to ask.

Later, when Rangavar had been in the shower room for a really long time, Arro pushed himself gingerly off the couch and went to go see what he was up to, leaving Kraz by himself for a moment at the table across their living room. The Darkal had wanted to shower as soon as possible after the police had taken samples of the blood all over his body. They’d been able to get more than enough to work with, and Arro was sure they’d know the identity of its owner soon enough. Although no one had dared say so out loud, everyone had a feeling it wasn’t Rangavar.

Arro rapped on the door a few times with a knuckle, but when he didn’t receive any response, he carefully pushed it open.

The room was steamy from the shower, but the water had been turned off some time ago, judging by the mirrors beginning to clear. Rangavar was drying himself off with a towel, but turned to look at Arro when the fat Faerian entered.

“I wanted to see if you were alright. You’ve been in here a while,” Arro explained.

Rangavar flattened his ears. “I can’t get all of the blood off.”

Arro frowned. “It looks gone to me.” He went over to the other dragon to help inspect his scales. There didn’t seem to be a single drop left.

“I just…” Rangavar took a deep breath. “I feel like it’s still there. I want it all off. I don’t want…” He was holding himself together well enough, but still clearly distraught.

Arro nodded. “Yeah.” He wasn’t really sure what else to say. He watched Rangavar eventually hang up the towel. He pushed his index fingers together. “How do you feel?” he finally asked. He’d been wanting to ask for a while. “I mean, how do you really feel?”

Rangavar stared at the towel for a long moment, refusing to meet Arro’s gaze. “They said I don’t have any injuries.”

“Rangavar.” Arro spoke his name sternly but as gently as possible. “You know that’s not what I really mean.”

The other dragon let out a long sigh. “What do you want me to say, Arro?” He spun towards the fat Faerian, glaring up at him. “I feel violated. Is that what you want me to say?” He threw up his paws. “You want to hear that I have no idea what I did before waking up covered in blood? That Zark—” Rangavar paused, gritting his teeth and suddenly looking elsewhere. “That, we don’t know where he is? Or if he’s even…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Arro said quickly, shaking his head hard enough to make his fat jiggle. “She was controlling you.”

Rangavar frustratedly turned back to the mirror. “The blood was all over MY paws, Arro, so does it really matter?”

Arro stared at him anxiously for a long moment, thinking carefully about what he was about to say next. It was relevant to their conversation, and he’d been dying to ask ever since escaping the research facility. He pressed his pudgy fingers together. “When she was the one controlling me, did I… Did I… hurt, you?”

Rangavar’s expression flickered in the mirror, but he didn’t say anything.

“Kraz said I strangled you,” Arro said more bluntly, his ears flattening.

After another long moment, Rangavar sighed, finally turning away from the mirror. He didn’t exactly look at Arro though, either. “That wasn’t your fault.”

Arro felt cold all over.

“Really.” Rangavar finally turned his gaze up to him, but there wasn’t any real emotion behind his eyes one way or another. He only looked tired. “I know she was controlling you, too.”

That didn’t really sit well with him. He shook his head. “I would never—I wouldn’t—” He stammered a few times before giving up beneath Rangavar’s stare, and looked away. He couldn’t believe doing something like that. Why would he do that? Even with the Glitarian trying to force him, he wouldn’t—

He was interrupted by a hug. Rangavar leaned his head against Arro’s chest. It was the same place he’d been crying earlier, but Arro had washed off too. Rangavar had gotten blood all over him. “You know I can tell when you’re feeling bad about something. You don’t have to feel bad about it.”

“I feel terrible.” Arro only tentatively hugged him back, like he were fragile or something. Like he might… hurt him.

Rangavar’s arms sank into Arro’s doughy body. He wasn’t anywhere near being able to reach around, as usual. Even as a Glitarian, he probably couldn’t. Arro realized he wanted to ask more questions about that, too—a lot more—but not right now. One thing at a time.

“We should go check on Kraz,” Rangavar murmured after they’d been standing like that for a while. He released Arro from the hug. “He’s probably wondering what we’re up to in here.”

Arro’s ears flattened slightly. “Are we really letting him stay on the couch tonight?” If Rangavar really could read all his emotions, then he was well aware Arro wasn’t thrilled about it.

“Hey, if he can’t— If he doesn’t want to go back to where he and… Zark, live, I think we’ll survive one night.” Rangavar slipped one of his much smaller paws into one of Arro’s fat ones, and squeezed. “I mean, he may have been on the verge of breaking up with him or whatever, but he still, uh. He still—”

“Now Zark’s missing.” Arro nodded. “He doesn’t want to be there alone while wondering… the worst.” He understood. It just still really sucked.

Rangavar pulled gently on his paw and began to lead him from the shower room. “Just one night,” Rangavar reminded him.

Arro nodded. “Just one night.”

In the living room, Kraz had his bandaged foot propped up against their table, looking miserable. Zark had been right; it wasn’t broken. That didn’t stop Kraz from crossing his arms and pouting at nothing in particular.

“How are you feeling?” Rangavar asked.

When Kraz reluctantly turned his way, Arro saw that the other Faerian was still eying him like the smaller dragon might turn around and bite.

Rangavar’s eyes narrowed. “Oh. Right. I’m ‘one of them’.” He made finger quotes. He cast Arro a glance and sighed. “I’m too tired for this. I’m going to bed.”

“Wait,” Arro blurted. He supposed this was none of his business, but hated the tension. He frowned at the muscular dragon. “Kraz. Weren’t you and Rangavar friends? Like, literally this morning, I mean?”

Kraz stared back with a scowl. “You really trust him?” At least he’d gone back from calling Rangavar ‘it’ to saying ‘he’ again, although he still wouldn’t address the Darkal directly. “You’re not afraid of him going all ‘feral’ again or whatever?”

“I control that, and I’m not going to,” Rangavar butted in. “The only other dragon who can control me has disappeared, and hopefully we won’t ever see her again.”

Kraz finally, FINALLY, shifted his gaze to Rangavar, although he met his eyes with great reluctance. He was quiet for a long moment as if unsure of what to say. Finally, he settled on, “You really don’t know what happened?” It was the first time he’d actually spoken to him since they’d left from beneath the building.

Rangavar shook his head. “No.” His voice was soft. Arro obviously knew he felt horrible about it, but wished Kraz would pull his head out of his ass long enough to see that.

Kraz looked away again, scowling at nothing while slumped in his seat.

Rangavar looked away too, but up at the stairs. “I’m, uh. I still think I should go to bed, though.” He peered curiously at Arro, who looked about ready to sit back down on the couch. “You coming?”

“In a bit.” Arro waved him away, but he was looking at Kraz out the corner of his eye. He didn’t feel quite done here yet.

Rangavar seemed to sense something more going on, but obviously wasn’t lying about being tired, because he turned to go upstairs anyway. “Alright. G’night.”

It wasn’t until a few minutes after he’d left that Kraz finally turned to look at Arro. “You don’t think it’s suspicious?” he asked quietly. He obviously didn’t know that a Darkal’s sharp hearing would be able to tell what he was saying from just upstairs. The house wasn’t very soundproof. Arro decided not to tell him. “Rangavar had a thousand possible motives to hurt Zark, but you’re certain he had nothing to do with it?”

“First of all, yes,” said Arro, without hesitation. He trusted Rangavar. “And second of all, you think after whatever he would have done to Zark, he locked himself up?”

“I’ll admit I’m stumped about that part,” Kraz acknowledged, albeit with a bit of reluctance.

“Not to mention that other Glitarian was like, super mean.” It was the understatement of the year, but Arro was too exhausted for more creative words right now. He was certain he’d be thinking of some very ‘creative’ words later. “Are we forgetting about that?”

Kraz snorted. “You got me there.” He slowly turned his gaze back to Arro as well. “You, uh. You really don’t remember, huh?”

“Remember what?” It took Arro another moment to realize what he was referring to, and he felt his cheeks flush. “I don’t.” Even though Rangavar had insisted it wasn’t Arro’s fault, he still felt shitty about it.

Kraz looked away again. “Maybe I can believe that Rangavar really doesn’t remember what happened either.”

It was a bit of a weird way to finally go about that conclusion, but Arro supposed he shouldn’t question it.

They sat in silence another few minutes, Arro trying to digest the day they’d just had. He was pretty tired too. He was sort of ready to follow Rangavar to bed. He wasn’t even hungry or anything, oddly enough.

“Does it hurt?”

“Huh?”

Kraz kind of nodded in the direction of Arro’s tum. Arro realized he’d been absently smoothing a paw over the cracked scales, inadvertently kneading the doughy flesh. He blushed a bit. “Not too bad.”

It occurred to him to ask Kraz about his foot, but the other Faerian interrupted before he could open his mouth. “Sorry about all the fat jokes I’ve made over the past… whenever.” He was staring guiltily at the huge pile of lard overflowing Arro’s lap. “I know that’s kind of like, the low-hanging fruit of mean comments.”

“You’re not the first person to make those jokes,” Arro rolled his eyes. Then he paused. Wait, why was he the one trying to make Kraz feel better? It should be the other way around.

“Still.” Kraz kind of shrugged, the muscles of his shoulders rippling. “It wasn’t right.”

“You’re only saying all this stuff because you found out I’m Rangavar’s companion,” Arro said slowly, beginning to scowl. “I’m not stupid.”

At least Kraz had the decency to seem embarrassed by the accusation. He was blushing a bit. “Not true. I just, had the wrong idea about you.”

They’d already been over that, so Arro decided to drop it.

Evidently, Kraz wasn’t ready. “Does stuff like today happen to you often?”

Arro frowned. “Stuff like what?”

Kraz awkwardly gestured at Arro’s belly again. “Like, uh. Like being too…”

Arro’s expression flattened. “Is this about the emergency exit?” He’d spent the rest of the day trying not to feel bad about it. He reminded himself that it was basically a glorified trap door—surely anyone could have gotten stuck. But Arro had finally managed to squeeze through anyway, right? Sure, everyone else had fit through it without a struggle, but he’d succeeded too.

Kraz looked down at his paws awkwardly. “I was just wondering.”

Arro sighed. “I think I’m going to bed now.”

“Wait, I didn’t—augh! I wasn’t making a joke.” Kraz shifted a bit, then winced as he moved his foot too much. Still, he went on, “I’m wondering if that’s why you’re at the gym so much.”

Arro frowned. “To lose weight?” He didn’t think that was an unusual reason in the slightest.

Kraz nodded curiously. “Since you haven’t lost weight, I was wondering if the reason is that you, uh, just want to be strong. Like, you don’t care if you’re fat. You can just be fat and strong.”

Arro shifted uncomfortably, before realizing it would just make his belly jiggle more, drawing more attention to it. He didn’t like all of the attention on it.

“You know, if you are trying to get stronger, maybe we could go to the gym together next time,” Kraz said. “Instead of, uh, fighting over weights and stuff.” He smiled a bit wryly. “When we’re no longer banned, of course.”

“Do you really think this is the best time to be scouting a gym partner?” Arro scowled. “What makes you think I’d want to go with you?”

Kraz’s ears flattened. “I want to bury the hatchet, okay? Are you ever going to forgive me?”

“Probably not.” Even as Arro said it, though, he realized he didn’t know if it was actually true. He was beginning to see why Kraz was so social at work. He had a very… addicting, personality. Right now, he didn’t want to think about it, feeling overwhelmed. “I’m going to bed now. Alright? I’m too tired to think about everything that’s happened today.”

“Thanks for letting me sleep on your couch,” Kraz suddenly spoke up. “I know it’s really inconvenient, but I, uh, appreciate it.”

Arro shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.” He finally rose from the couch, stretching his arms over his head and flexing his wings. His belly felt sore along the cracked scales, but he needed a good stretch. Then he realized that Kraz was watching his fat, protruding middle look even larger when he leaned back, and blushed.

Kraz leaned back again in his seat. “See you tomorrow.”

Arro gave him a tiny, distracted wave as he headed up the stairs, now self-conscious about his gut bouncing with each step.

It wasn’t until he carefully climbed into bed that he allowed himself to think about the strange conversation, only pausing to focus on not crushing Rangavar into the mattress with his bulk. It was hard enough not to wake the smaller dragon, let alone leave all of his bones intact. He was careful to settle himself with a little jostling as possible, although he couldn’t keep the mattress from bending around his significant weight. He lowered himself slowly, his ponderous round middle settling onto the surface of the bed long before the rest of him actually did. When he was finally lying on his side towards the sleeping Darkal, he let out a relieved sigh.

He tried not to dwell on Kraz’s conversation. It seemed like the Faerian might be genuinely trying to connect a bit, but Arro was still wary. And as usual, he couldn’t get the comments about his weight get out of his head. He supposed Kraz was right about one thing; even though he was at the gym constantly, making himself stronger, he wasn’t putting any work into improving his diet or anything like that. It wasn’t any mystery why he was still so fat. He wanted to bury his face in his pillow. If only he could live in a world where he just worked out.

He loved to work out. He hated dieting.

Arro carefully reached over to brush a paw over the other dragon’s soft wings in his sleep, which were currently tucked tightly against his back. It was impossible to tell that there’d been feathers there a few hours ago, but Arro could wait to think about that tomorrow. Right now, he only wanted to still his thoughts. He wanted to not think about any of this stuff. He rolled over, careful not to crush the smaller dragon, and pulled him close despite an uncomfortable burning sensation on his cracked scales from his magic when they touched. He just… needed to hold him. He was still tired enough to drift off to sleep.