Kirsi, who had been mostly unfocused for the duration of their flight, became suddenly aware when the sun broke over the horizon in front of her. We’ve been flying a lot longer than I’d intended to, she fretted, and felt a less-than-worried rumble in her Dragon’s chest as it purred its approval of the journey. Still, she could feel their altitude decreasing in response to her concern, gliding lower toward a thick stretch of forest. Their feet hit the ground with a soft “thud,” her Dragon’s fatigue making itself known as the shifted suddenly back to human form, Kirsi stumbling with a gasp as her human legs tried to absorb the rest of the shock from the landing.

Why would you keep flying if you were so tired!? she demanded, leaning against a tree and closing her eyes. The image of their wings spread wide against the clouds and the stars flitted across her mind in response, and she sighed. Her Dragon was right; it was really, really nice to stretch their wings for an extended period of time. Still, though she’d been zoned out for the majority of the trip and her Dragon’s body had done the hard work, she’d been awake all night. She could feel the weight of exhaustion pulling at her eyes, even with them closed, and she wished they’d turned back soon enough for her to be able to catch some sleep. She took a deep breath through her nose, concentrating, and said aloud, “There’s a road not far from here. We can head in that direction and figure out where we are.”

Kirsi smiled as she felt a wave of indignation at the idea that they would need directions. “I know you can just as easily fly back without asking for help, but we can hardly fly back with the sun up. And I like to keep track of everywhere we’ve been,” she added, picking her way over wet leaves and fallen trees. “That way, once we’ve been everywhere, we can decide where in the world we love the most, and we can make our home there.” She smiled as she felt her Dragon shudder in happiness at the thought of having a den to call their own again; somewhere cold, where they could be themselves without having to be alone. Kirsi continued chatting aimlessly as she made her way toward the road, enjoying the quiet of the forest and her Dragon’s soothing presence in her mind.

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Leigh tightened his hand around the strap slung over his shoulder, adjusting his backpack and hunching his shoulders. He kept his head down, moving quickly through the crowd and trying not to jostle anybody. New York was a wild place, and he found himself constantly on his guard as he moved around the city. He’d been tracking a woman who he was reasonably certain was a Dragon; she had the strangely strong smell of burnt ozone that accompanied lightning Dragons, and when he’d first encountered her on the subway system he’d seen the strange, iridescent glint that her hair held even through the strange array of colors it’d been dyed. So far, a few days into tailing her, he’d not seen her shift at all; he never did the recon missions when he worked with his father, and he was finding it unsettling to see one of the beasts in such a human routine. She woke up, went to work at some large corporation in a low-paying desk job, shuffled out to lunch at midday, and ultimately returned home. Even for a human, her routine was boring -- how could a Dragon live such a normal life? Wouldn’t it go stir-crazy?

He cursed as she nearly slipped out of his sight, turning down an alley that he hadn’t seen her go down before on her trek back to work after lunch.  Trying to appear casual, he slipped into the alley after her, hand moving into his bag to close around the hilt. He cursed again at the sight of another man at the end of the alley, turning to duck by a large garbage can. The woman he’d been following approached the other man, speaking to him sweetly for a short while, interrupted occasionally by his deep laugh. Leigh wasn’t sure what sort of sketchy business was being done, but he was growing impatient as he crouched by the trash. He was almost ready to call it quits when suddenly there was the sound of a scuffle, and he tuned back in to see that the large man had the woman pinned against the brick alley walls. His arm pressed against her throat and she stared at him with wide eyes. You’re a Dragon, Leigh thought, hand hesitating around his blade. Fight him. He’s not even a Hunter, just a thug. You can easily get yourself out of this situation.

Leigh heard the man laugh again, lower this time and with a dangerous edge. Surely, if she was a Dragon, she would fight back. She would save herself… so why wasn’t she? The woman opened her mouth and the man pulled a gun from his waistband, pressing it against her head. Acting on an impulse, Leigh let out a shout and pulled out his blade, charging the man. The man stepped back from the woman, turning his gun toward the intruder, and the woman scrambled out of the way. The man snarled in anger and tightened his finger on the trigger, and even as he braced himself for the pain of a bullet wound Leigh swung his blade back, ready to plunge it forward into a target he hadn’t expected. The man’s hand twitched, and a loud crack split the alley, Leigh’s vision going white. When the ringing in his ears stopped and he could see again, he found himself sprawled on the ground by a pile of smoking ash and a pair of tennis shoes, and the woman standing just behind them, her eyes glowing an electric blue. Leigh stared at her. I was right, he laughed somewhat hysterically in his own mind. I was right, and she’s a Dragon. And she’s going to kill me.

“He was going to kill you, Hunter child,” the woman said, her voice buzzing slightly like it held static energy waiting to be released. Her eyes began to change, becoming more human as she stared at him and losing their glow. “He was going to kill you. His gun wouldn’t have done much to me, you must know that, but you… Why would you try to save a Dragon?”

Leigh found himself unable to answer, staring at her standing over him and flitting his eyes back to the smoldering pile where the man once stood. He swallowed, throat dry. He didn’t have an answer to give her. “You weren’t going to fight him,” he said quietly, avoiding her gaze. “Why wouldn’t you kill a human who attacked you?”

“He could hardly do much,” she said again, narrowing her eyes in a way that made Leigh uncomfortable. She wasn’t going to kill him until he tried to kill me, he thought, furrowing his brow. She had saved him. He didn’t voice the realization aloud, but she seemed to understand. She sighed, turning away. “Don’t follow me anymore, boy,” she warned, the air feeling oddly charged and making the hair on Leigh’s arms stand, “or I’ll do what I must to survive. You tried to save my life, and I saved yours. We’re square. Let’s leave it at that.”

Kirsi flinched as a loud bang echoed through the trees, ducking quickly behind a large trunk. What was that? she thought wildly, running her hands over her torso to check for wounds. Did somebody just shoot at us? Feeling no pain and unable to locate any bullet holes, Kirsi waited behind the tree with baited breath to see if another shot would ring out; after a long moment, she felt wry amusement that was not her own tickle her mind.

That was no gunshot, her Dragon offered, and Kirsi’s shoulders sagged with relief. She’d watched the light leave her father’s eyes at the hands of a gun. She could only assume her mother had met a similar fate. As much as she doubted a gun could do much against the strength of a Dragon, she couldn’t shake her fear of them. It came from up ahead, where the road is. We’re close to it. Her Dragon’s voice whispering against her thoughts put her at ease, and though she had no idea what the sound could have been, she trusted her Dragon not to lead them into danger. Besides, they’d been moving through the trees for an hour now, and she was happy to reach the road. That was the downside to being able to sense so much, with a Dragon’s skill; something that smelled so close could take so long to reach.

Moving forward again, she picked her way closer to the road, until she could see it through the trees twenty-someodd feet in front of her. She paused again here, frowning as the smell of cold burned in her nose, stronger than she had grown accustomed to. And there was something different about the smell, something unfamiliar that she’d never noticed in her own scent. Frowning, she breathed in through her nose, and the underlying, unfamiliar scent clicked in her mind as some kind of citrus. What’s that? she asked, suddenly feeling suspicious. She could feel the thrum of her Dragon’s excitement beneath her skin, and she had the distinct feeling that whatever that smell was, her Dragon had smelled it first; whatever that smell was, her Dragon recognized it. And Kirsi realized that some small part of her, the part tied the most closely with the Dragon, recognized it, too. It was certainly not a smell she’d ever encountered before, but it felt familiar -- there was something in the smell that called out to her, friendly and inviting, a feeling of understanding that pulled at Kirsi’s soul, drawing her closer.

What is that? she asked again, her feet moving of their own volition closer to the road. The human side of her was afraid, frantically struggling against the pull, because something was out there, beyond the treeline, something that Kirsi wasn’t sure she was strong enough to face. But her Dragon’s excitement was overpowering, driving them forward as it itched under Kirsi’s skin, eager.

And then they broke through the treeline, and Kirsi froze, eyes wide, as the smell became overpowering in its strength, so much so that she could almost see it as it settled around a young man sitting on the hood of a car. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She swallowed, struggling to remember how to breathe. He’s a Dragon, she thought desperately, watching the light catch on his hair in odd, inhuman ways. He’s a Dragon. He’s like -- he’s like us. Like me. Like us.

A joyous cry echoed through Kirsi’s mind in response. Closer, closer, speak to him! the Dragon urged, but Kirsi stayed where she was. She was only ten feet away, maybe less, but there was a chance he hadn’t seen her, hadn’t smelled her the way she’d smelled him. If she turned back, they could make it back into the trees, transform and fly farther than he’d be willing to follow-- NO! the Dragon boomed, making Kirsi flinch and move back a step. We can’t just leave him. It’s our chance, don’t you see, our chance!

Our chance for what? Kirsi demanded, panicking at the unexpected turn of events. To be murdered by another Dragon? What if this is -- what if we’re encroaching on his territory, there could be more--

It is our chance not to be alone anymore, the Dragon finished, sounding pleased and satisfied and so calmly matter-of-fact that Kirsi found herself calming, too, if only a little. She realized she was staring, dumbly, from the side of the road, and it was unlikely that the man --the Dragon-- hadn’t noticed her, even if he’d yet to say a word. She tried to force herself to say something, anything, but her throat was too dry to make any sound. She stood, rooted to the spot, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words and her eyes wide as she stared.

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“One ticket for the next available flight, please,” Leigh requested, sliding his card and I.D. over to the man at the kiosk.

“Next flight is for Dublin, Ireland,” the man said, sounding bored. “Do you have a passport?” Leigh grumbled under his breath and dug around in his bag, retrieving the document and sliding that over, too. The man typed something into the computer and then slid Leigh’s things back over. “Thank you for choosing our airline to accommodate your needs,” he drawled, eyes sliding past Leigh to the person in line behind him. Leigh shuffled off towards the terminal, ready to move on. He’d packed up his meager belongings from the apartment just hours after encountering the lightning Dragon, shoving them into his duffel so that he could move on from the hustle and bustle of New York.

Vincent stepped into the shop, immediately greeted by the strong scent of coffee, tea and baked goods. Lying underneath was something different; the smell of leaves, and dirt, and outdoors. Surely that strong scent couldn't be from the few potted plants by the windows, could it?

His gaze flickered around the room as he stepped into the line and pulled out his wallet. A young man sat by the far right window tapping away at a keyboard, he noticed. An older man was also present, as were a few other unassuming customers. His gaze flickered to the left, and he briefly froze. ... is that? The young woman from last night; the one who had fallen out of the tree and run from him. From his peripheral, he could see that she was unharmed, thank goodness. Although, dragons don't tend to stay injured for long. The line moved up, and he continued. It seemed as though he would be next, once the sharply-dressed businesswoman ahead of him had ordered.

The woman at the register was quite friendly, which put him at ease. She commented on his accent, making him blush a little. Vincent flashed a grin at her and traded banter for a moment, then ordered a venti vanilla bean frappuccino with caramel and waited at the counter for his drink. It was ready quickly, and he thanked the barista before taking the cup and turning to leave the shop. The voice of the girl from before caught his attention, and he walked over as he was called to.

“And you’re the woman who fell out of a tree.” He jabbed playfully, a smile on his face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ennie. You weren’t hurt, were you?” Telling her his name may or may not have slipped his mind, because the dragon inside of him may or may not be very excited to see another of their kind again. ‘нσω ℓσηg нαѕ ιт вєєη?’ he felt the voice ask. A long time indeed, since he’d met another dragon. Several decades, at least.

The Dragon boy sitting on the car moved, his hand coming up and Kirsi flinched back, half-expecting some bizarre unknown-to-her Dragon-beam to shoot forward from his palm and incinerate her where she stood. Why would he shoot something from his hand? a too-amused voice floated across her mind, and she scowled in a knee-jerk response. Then she feared that, although he only waved in the first place, scowling would make him think she was snarling or something at him, and maybe he would transform and rip out her throat before they had a chance--

Breathe, the Dragon in her mind prodded. He waved. Say something.

But Kirsi was unable to find her voice. She could feel her Dragonś excitement overwhelming her own anxiety about the situation, the great winged beast in her soul bouncing beneath her skin like an overeager puppy, and it made her feel breathless. That feeling combined with the strong odor from the man swirling around her on the breeze made her dizzy, and she stumbled sideways a step, steadying herself with a jolt. She realized she still hadn't responded to the man´s wave --she'd looked away from him, even, she was so stupid-- and she darted her eyes to him again, only to find he hadn't moved from his place on the hood. In fact, the way he looked at her seemed to echo her own internal distress. Comforted a bit by this other Dragon´s own apparent discomfort, the knot in Kirsi´s stomach eased and she found herself able to swallow down the lump in her throat.

“Hello,” she tried to say, but her voice was barely a whisper, and the word sounded brittle and raspy. She cleared her throat, wincing at the harshness of the sound in the silence that seemed to envelope her and the other Dragon. “Hello,” she said again, more audible. Her Dragon preened, proud of Kirsi  for making contact and gleeful at the presence of its kin. “My name is--” she cut herself off, worried suddenly that he might be able to use her name against her somehow, and was comforted somewhat by her Dragon’s gentle admonishment flitting over her mind, almost like she’d been smacked teasingly upside the head. “Kirsi,” she continued, “my name is Kirsi. Um, hello.”

She didn’t want to move toward him and risk scaring or upsetting either one of them. Instead she stood, feeling nervous and vulnerable out in the middle of nowhere with a Dragon. He was older than her -- he was probably centuries older than her. And he was a male. Are male Dragons bigger? she thought at her Dragon. Would he be stronger than us?

Your guess is as good as mine, came the wry reply. Right. Her Dragon hadn’t exactly had a chance to chat up other Dragons when it was a light in a stone buried in ice. Feeling awkward just standing still and staring at the boy while she chatted away with her Dragon inside her mind, Kirsi plucked at her armwarmers, pulling up a loose string. “Are you--” her voice kept sounding too loud in the quiet that stretched between them. “Are you… going somewhere?” she finished lamely, shoulders drooping a bit and face flushing in embarrassment. It had been a while since she’d tried to make small talk, and she’d certainly never tried to do it with another Dragon. Her discomfort won out over her fear of him moving suddenly to attack, and she dropped her eyes down toward the ground, unable to look at him directly anymore.

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Shuffling his way out of the terminal and into the back seat of a waiting cab, Leigh sighed exaggeratedly, earning himself a strange look from the driver through the mirror. Leigh flashed the man a grin, too pleased with finally being off the plane to let odd looks ruin his mood. He gave the driver the address of the hotel he’d booked a room in, and he was early enough that he wouldn’t be charged extra for checking in late. He was feeling better than he had all day. The hotel wasn’t far from the airport and before too long, he was flinging himself into the plush mattress, dropping his bag haphazardly alongside the large bed. Groaning into his pillows as his back popped (it was stiff after sitting in the airplane’s cramped seat for so long) Leigh’s whole body went blissfully lax for a moment. It tensed again when there was a knock on his door --was it possible someone had recognized and followed him? Grabbing his blade from his bag (which had been a real pain to get through security at the airport, and he thanked whatever deity felt like taking credit that his bag had a secret bottom to help hunters like him get away with exactly that) he slipped silently toward the door, trying to avoid his shadow being seen under the door incase they didn’t know for sure that he was in the room. Peering out the peep-hole, he rolled his eyes at himself; a small maid stood at the door with a cart full of toiletries, hands folded sweetly behind her back.

He jumped slightly as a knock rang out again, and her voice carried through the door: “Housekeeping,” she sang, sounding chipper. Slipping his blade into the back of his jeans so she wouldn’t catch sight of it (the last thing he needed was a suspicious civilian) he cracked open the door, eyebrows raised.

“What’s up?” he asked, brushing some of his hair away from his eyes. The woman giggled, batting her eyes, and Leigh frowned at her.

“Oh, sorry to bother you, sir,” she said, still looking at him strangely. “We bring our guests fresh towels when check-in is complete. Here you go!” She placed a stack of plush, white towels into his hands, licking her lips and standing in front of his open door with an expectant ex
pression.

“Er,” Leigh said, looking down at the towels then back at her, “thank you?” She giggled again and he felt his face heat up, muttering a quick excuse about needing to take a shower --and he wasn’t sure why she swept her eyes down toward his feet at that-- before closing the door in her face. He heard her giggling again as she continued down the hall, and he furrowed his brow at her strange behavior. Deciding a shower would indeed be a nice thing to do --really, his back was killing him from that flight, he needed to go to the chiropractor more often-- he grabbed a towel from the top of the stack that he’d placed on the end of his bed next to his blade, pausing when a small square of paper fluttered down onto the floor. Frowning, he picked it up.

Saw you check in, let’s hang out while you’re here ;) the paper read, followed by a string of digits Leigh assumed was a phone number. Suddenly, the girl’s odd behavior made sense, though he thought that it might have been inappropriate for her to follow him to his room while she was working. He wasn’t really too sure. Crumpling the paper with a bemused shrug and tossing it in the trash, Leigh slipped into the shiny marble bathroom and out of his clothes to climb in the shower, turning it up to a high heat and letting his muscles sigh in relief. After he finished showering, he figured, it would be late enough that he could go to a pub somewhere nearby, have a bit of fun, and keep an eye out for hair that shimmered too much and cologne that was too strong, too real. There were Dragons in Ireland, he was sure of it, but whether he’d find any in Dublin was a total question mark.