Side-Write: Dragon Slayer

Lately I've been coming up with ideas for these side-writes that just turn out way too long. The idea is for it to be a fairly casual side thing that's fun, but I've been turning them into such a production I started to dread it when I realized it was time for the next one. And that's no good! So for this one, I tried to reel it in-- I had an idea I thought could be a little fun, and I got started... but it started getting way too long yet again, so I pushed myself to go ahead and chop this one off at a more reasonable length. This is more what they're supposed to be like. Part of me feels a little disappointed, but honestly, I should probably just try to get some more "serious" writing in sometime for other projects and keep these as loose, fun sketches.

As always, this isn't exactly canon, just sort of a "what if" in the world of Project Wild One. I hope you find it a fun little read!

~~~

I don't know why, but it's always at moments like this that I find myself wondering how I ever ended up in this business. I have more than enough time to think on the road, but I never question it then. It's only when I should really be thinking about other things.

It's just, it's not like it was ever even my idea to begin with. The first time, I was drunk and just... incredibly pissed off, which was probably the bigger impairment, honestly. I was just as shocked as anyone else after it was over, and when someone asked me to do it again, I was horrified. I refused, but they had this whole sob story, and a lot of money, and I was freshly destitute, so...

I mean, I could have said no, somewhere along the line. Well, I did. A lot. But I guess never strongly enough? I never knew there was such a hot market for complete fucking idiots until I outed myself as one. It's hard to say no to a year's pay for one quick job, you know. The benefits are pretty great, too. Just... Man.

Okay. Focus.

Chill wind slices through my fur, making my scrapes and wounds sing. Between the glare of the light and the wind beating against my cheeks, it's tough to open my eyes, but I squint around. The ground and the forest slides by maybe... half a mile down? My feet dangle, high winds chilling between my toes. Briefly, a shadow falls over me.

The dragon's wing dips into my vision as we lurch a little higher, then it scoops up again to catch the air in a glide, letting the sun blare in my face again. My chains seem to be holding alright, looped around the beast's neck and hooked on itself, crossing over its back. I hang off one side, gripping the hook on the last link of the chain. Still alive. Still in this. Need a plan. Visualize.

Climb its back. Shred the wings. Maybe pin one in a chain. Swing off at the last second. Crash landing. Nah, this one's too mobile, it'd spin me off if I tried to walk on it.

Climb the chain. Get to its neck. Pull the chain tighter and strangle it. ...Nah, too strong a neck on this one, and its arms might be able to reach that high.

Get its attention. Spook it. Counter its attack. The neck's too short for it to breathe on me here, the wings are too clumsy, it'd have to claw with the hind legs. Seems like the proud type. Flusters easily. Psych it out.

Alright. Let's do it. Fast, deep breaths. Bare fangs.

I yank myself up and twist an arm through the chain to support my weight, hefting the hook in my other hand as I roar my defiance at this bastard! It twists its head to get one eye on me.

I'm told I'm quite the sight like this. A lean, scarred tiger, taut muscle, red hair spraying out above me in the wind. They say my eyes flash, and the way I snarl would put the fear in the gods. I don't know about that, but it seems to work okay on dragons if I do it right.

This one lurches to one side, twisting in the air, seemingly forgetting about flying in its rush to turn its claws in my direction and bat me away. I'm ready. Talons longer than my hands carve arcing lines through the wind toward my face, but my hook buries in the underside of the foot, using its own power to drive the sharpened point home. It tries to jerk away reflexively, which helps yank the hook down into the flesh proper, sinking down between the bones. My arm nearly breaks snapping clear as the chain hauls taut, and suddenly the dragon is caught twisted around, trying to stay that way to ease the pain in its foot! But it can't fly like this, so after one or two errant kicks with its other leg it has to let its leg go limp and focus on regaining control before it crashes. I scramble up the chain.

If it was smart enough, and brave enough, it would just yank its foot free and take the full wound. But it's not, and now it's mine. I leap off the chain to dig my claws into the broad, taut membrane of its wings. If there's one place that's more sensitive and fragile on a dragon than its genitals, it's probably here. Just imagine getting cut between your fingers... if the little stretched part between your fingers was a couple yards long. I scrabble up quickly as it screeches at me, punch holes in its wing near the base to grip it by the slender supporting bones, and with my other hand I set to clawing the membrane to ribbons all around me.

There's two ways this could go. This dragon is about to hit the ground about as hard as it can. On a falling dragon, the part that "lands" slowest is the wings. I might survive. But there's one sure way to survive-- if I piss it off enough. You know, like if I just crippled it by ruthlessly attacking an incredibly tender part of its body.

The beast was flailing, struggling, beating furiously at the air while twisting around itself-- but it jerks out of all of that under my attack to twist its head around, locking two gleaming green, slitted orbs on me. The hatred, the spite, the pain there makes me grin. Light sparks behind its opening fangs as it yanks its wing forward, and in an instant a mawfull of razors encompass my vision. It teeth sinks into my back and my abs as fire screams up into my face.

~~~

To be fair, the rest of the time, when I'm not "slaying dragons" as they like to call it, it's a pretty good life. That night, I'm the toast of the town. I get all the good food, good drinks, and great sex I could want, and then plenty more besides. They don't even let me pull out. They talk about how proud they'll be to bear my child. That kinda gets me deep in the belly, you know? Still not sure I deserve it, but by this point I'm usually too liquored up to worry about it.

The dragon actually survived the fall and they managed to put it in a slow death trap, so they're extra happy. Usually if you kill a dragon right out, that's enough to scare it off, but everyone feels better making sure it's dead for good. I go ahead and let them let me indulge for three days before I manage to drag myself away. I've always got more orders waiting than I can get to these days, but this next one sounds pretty interesting. I get my wagon rolling before noon, though I have to stop twice to send back people stowing away or following me.

~~~

I'm used to getting a lot of exaggeration in the letters people send. Most people haven't seen very many dragons, so they're always talking about how big and scary it is a lot. This one, the letter was kinda odd. Less "oh god, it's so huge, please help!" and more "we don't know if it's possible, but we don't know who else to ask." Like, they didn't talk about the size directly, but the way it was implied... I knew I had to see this for myself.

Now, I've seen some big dragons. Some are barely bigger than horses, but some are so big they might be able to peek over the roof of a two-story home, even staying on all fours. Sometimes people will scream about how huge the little ones are, or say nothing about the size of the biggest ones. There's no telling till you actually get there. So when I arrived, I had them guide me to a good spot for getting a good look at it. It usually comes through this valley around noon each day, so they took me to a tall hill overlooking it, almost a small mountain, and I've climbed up into the tallest tree to keep watch.

And I have to look up. To watch it walk by. Through the valley.

As its head blots out the sun above, its tail is still blurred and tinted blue off in the other direction, it's so far off. It is... certainly a dragon. Every footstep shakes the earth under legs broader than city blocks, and when it adjusts its wings a little, the wind nearly knocks me out of my tree at a distance. I recognize the shape, the claws, the wings, the fangs, the sharp eyes too high up to even notice me. This... is a dragon. And yet... it is not. It is... a cataclysm. A natural disaster that thinks.

The town is desperate because people are starting to worship it. It sounded stupid at the time.

How did I end up in this business? No, c'mon, just... just visualize. If anyone knows dragons, it's me.

If I could climb up the leg, I... No, it...

If I could rig a glider, then maybe I'd land on the... Well, I mean...

If I could just get at its eye, I could really... piss it off...

...How did I end up in this business?

...

You know, I've been putting it off, but there's a village that's been begging me to come scare off a whole family of dragons. They breathe lightning! It's really far away. You'd have to be pretty stupid to try and tangle with a mess like that. But I'm feeling pretty stupid right now!

...

Just not THIS stupid.