misty mountains cold [r]

[Shen'lon]

A glance at the darkening sky told him that camp was a very good idea, lest they risk losing their things in the sand. Shen'lon didn't think too hard about Ender's questions, though the few answers he had afforded the dragon was significantly more than Shen'lon had told anyone else in a very long time. He picked a spot on the sand beside a small, dried-up, dead-looking shrub and tossed his things down, squatting to set up his own sleeping arrangements. The man briefly contemplated making a spot for a fire before realizing the smoke was just a giant beacon to every bandit within ten miles -- and, with a glance at Ender, it was unnecessary anyway. Shen'lon raised an eyebrow at the next question. "You're a dragon." He said it as if the answer was already obvious (which, to him, it was). The barbarian hadn't agreed to the deal and answered the manakete's questions out of fear, after all. And then, instead of another 'why,' Shen'lon said, "You ask a lot of questions." ender

[ender]

He was, indeed, a dragon. It appeared that Captain Obvious was king of the hill and would not be relinquishing his title. Ender stared at Shen'lon. He blinked once or twice, expression impassive but not so blank as to be concerning. He had no real opinion of the man. He hadn't seen him fight outside of a brief skirmish against bandits on their way to the tomb. He handled himself well. That was worthy of some respect. Some vague amount of respect really was a low standard though, for Ender's purposes. "You're not going to have a bad run-in with me," Ender said at last. It was a random statement, but it segued well into the next one. "I can fly us to the next village." Shen'lon

[Shen'lon]

Shen'lon stopped what he was doing. "... Now?" The man didn't particularly mind, what with Ender not being a brainless lizard-beast with wings, but he needed to know whether or not to continue unpacking his things. He turned to stare impassively at Ender. The offer was a polite one, and there was arguably no downfall (other than the fact that he would be, well, riding the guy, but the thought didn't even cross his mind). And other than the actual falling part, but he figured Ender was old enough to know what he was doing. He shrugged. "Sure."  ender

[ender]

"Yes. Now." He was aware he sounded pushy and impatient. On one hand, that didn't bother him. On the other, he had an actual reason. "I'm hungry. The local inn will still have a warm dinner if I fly quickly." Manaketes are not beasts of burden. Ender was not a beast of burden. He was about as keen on letting Shen'lon ride him like a pony as Shen'lon was to ride an actual wyvern. It was a matter of dignity. And a matter of giving strangers dragon-back rides. Dignity be damned. Besides, so far he hated Shen'lon less than most people he'd met in his lifetime. Ender put that aside and turned into a goddamned dragon. He'd spent all day moving at a plodding pace. It was about time to fly. Shen'lon

[Shen'lon]

He shrugged. The arrangement was fine with him. (Something told him it was a bit less fine with Ender, but then again -- he didn't care.) The man casually stuffed what little he had taken out back into his sack, slinging it over his shoulder once more as the manakete turned back into dragon form. His scars itched. ... He hoped Ender wasn't a brainless lizard-beast with wings. But the brief hesitation only lasted so long, and Shen'lon took a step forward before realizing he really had no idea how to get on a goddamn dragon. Not to mention said dragon normally walked around as a guy significantly shorter than him. It wasn't something he had ever put much thought into, but now that he was ... manaketes were strange, strange beings. He briefly considered jumping, but he stood more of a chance to slam into the dragon's neck than actually getting on -- and Shen'lon ruled out climbing up the tail just as quickly, if only because a single swipe would probably send him flying. So he chose the safest option and climbed up the scaled foreleg, taking a rather uncomfortable seat above the manakete's wings. "... Okay." ender

[ender]

Ender cleared his throat a little pointedly, waiting for the human to hurry up a little. His throat sounded a bit like a furnace ready to explode. He barely felt Shen'lon's weight on his left, but he did feel his weight on his back. Ender was not in the habit of ferrying people around, and it was strange to him. No matter; it wouldn't slow him down. As soon as he felt like Shen'lon was reasonably secure--reasonably, because Ender would never wear a harness and there was none to be had--he took to the air. He circled once for altitude, to gain height over the unsettled sands and to soar into the clear sky for a sunset flight. He made haste, because he wasn't the sort of person that stopped to enjoy the trip. Also, hungry. The purple haze that came before night lasted what seemed like forever, and it provided enough light for Ender to navigate the desert to a village besides an oasis. It was dark when Ender landed a bit outside the village. He lingered in dragon form as he landed on the ground as gently as he could. Soft as the landing was, Ender was curt. "Off. Now." Shen'lon

[Shen'lon]

The flight wasn't as bad as it could have been, he figured. (He wasn't a splat on the desert sand, right?) The takeoff admittedly made the man nervous, if only because he wasn't sure of whether or not holding on for dear life was necessary, but the rest was ... fairly okay. As much as 'okay' got on the back of a speeding dragon, anyway. The landing was gentle, too, which meant Shen'lon didn't tumble ungracefully off of Ender's back. He took a firm hold of his things before swinging his leg over and jumping to the ground the moment he got his bearings. He certainly didn't need to be told twice. "Thanks." Unnecessary, but appreciated. Shen'lon glanced around for the nearest inn, which wasn't too hard to find, and pointed. "There?" ender

[ender]

He thanked whatever gods would hear him that Shen'lon was not motionsick. "No one hears about this," Ender said, not leaving much room for debate (or explaining why--the why was obvious for him). "Ever." He was silent for a moment, not entirely sure what to do with thanks. "You're welcome." He nodded, glad to see an inn. The flight had tired him out more than he'd admit. Perhaps he should give more respect to wyverns for carrying their riders. He drew closer to the inn, and there was definitely the pleasant smell of something roasting on a spit. Excellent. Shen'lon

[Shen'lon]

He followed Ender toward the inn, briefly contemplating whether or not he should pay for the dragon's meal; but Ender hadn't asked, and Shen'lon wasn't about to offer up his own money for the guy. So he remained silent as they pushed open the door, feeling a soft breeze blow past him with the scent of meat. Mm, dinner. Shen'lon took a seat at an empty table by a wall, not caring too much if Ender decided to sit with him. He flagged down a nearby waitress, grunting his order, and leaned back to wait. He wondered if the inn had any free rooms. ender

[ender]

Had Shen'lon offered to pay, it would be implying that their sunset ride had ever happened. Which it hadn't. "Get me food, I'll go ask about rooms," Ender said, and he parted ways with Shen'lon to search for the master of the house. It took a while to track down a matronly woman in the kitchens (he was getting really hungry, and being in the kitchens didn't help), who stopped with her work long enough to haggle over exactly how much gold two room keys were worth. Rooms had been cheaper when he looked like a child. When had he gotten so old? When he returned, Ender found Shen'lon's table and tossed him an iron key. "Twenty gold a night. You're paying for tomorrow's inn." Shen'lon

[Shen'lon]

Shen'lon watched Ender walk away and simply sat back. He propped his feet up on the table and didn't do much else until a nervous-looking girl set the food down. He took it without a word as she hurried away from the unfriendly-looking scarred guy -- and when the manakete returned with a key for him, the man took one of the plates and pushed it across the table. It was a portion as large as his, because Shen'lon figured the dragon ate more than a normal person his size. (And if Ender didn't, the man didn't mind finishing the food anyway.) He shrugged at the declaration. "Sure." He owed him one, even if Shen'lon would rather have avoided the loss of his money. The man pushed the plate again. "Eat." ender

[ender]

He stopped the waitress for a mug of particularly watered down ale. The less said about its flavor, the better. Still, it sufficed. Ender neither ate as much you'd think a dragon should, nor as much as the teenaged boy he appeared to be. He was hungry, of course (although he also made a habit of complaining needlessly), but he ate like a bird--albeit a hungry bird. He made it through about half the plate. He considered pressing onward, as if dinner itself was a journey, but instead, he set down the fork and looked up at Shen'lon. "Are you still hungry? I'm not." The nursed his tankard until it was empty. That would be bedtime, then. "I'd prefer to leave at dawn tomorrow." In a way, it was a question. Ender could negotiate that, if Shen'lon preferred his beauty sleep. Shen'lon

[Shen'lon]

The man spared Ender only a single glance before taking the plate of unfinished food with a shrug. The food wasn't fantastic, but it was good enough -- and he wasn't particularly picky. Shen'lon continued chewing in silence, occasionally looking around the inn to look at the people around them. He didn't think they were in any danger (and it weren't as if they couldn't handle any danger), but he figured getting caught up in a fight and kicked out of the inn wasn't worth being lax. Once his food was done, he nodded to his traveling companion. "Okay." Sunrise it was. Standing up, Shen'lon took the key and headed off to his room to sleep. (We could just timeskip to the morning, unless you really want to detail them snoozing the night away.) ender

[ender]

Sweet Naga on high, how much did this man eat. Ender watched--in fact, he practically spectated--expressionless in his disbelief. Neither of them were the type to wish the other good night, it seemed. He was up well before the crack of dawn. This may or may not be because he wanted the time to draw up an early morning bath. At the end of the day (or the start of one), he was a civilized dragon. There was the smell of breakfast, and Ender sought out Shen'lon by the bar and at the tables. "Whenever you're ready," Ender said, armed with a small roll of bread. It was breakfast. It was enough for him, in any case. "I'll be outside town. West gate." West gate was kind of a fence with a gap in it. Small villages didn't really have much in the way of defenses. No wonder there were so many bandits when the commonfolk were such easy pickings. In dragon form, he chased a butterfly around just outside the gate. Shen'lon

[Shen'lon]

Upon waking (and after using the old and creaky, if not functional restroom), Shen'lon headed to breakfast. It was his favorite meal, when he had the luxury of being able to sit down and eat it. Which wasn't as often enough as he liked. He nodded at Ender, choosing not to remark on the pathetically small roll of bread in his hands, before going back to his food. Shen'lon ate at his own pace, enjoying the meal. Once he finished, the man stood up, paid for what he ate, and made his way to the West gate. It wasn't hard to find. He simply stood to the side and watched the dragon hop around. The man could wait. ender