Nice landing.
Finally, you find a little valley among the rocks. You circle over it for a while - if dragons can hover in place, you haven't figured out how. The valley is a narrow patch of green among all the red and orange, speckled here and there with little sparkly patches that are probably water. The perfect landing strip.
You got the hang of flying in no time at all. Landing can't be that hard, can it?
Yes, in fact, it can. Landing can be very hard indeed. Ouch.
Fortunately, the ground comes off worse than you do. You hit it with all four legs (or is that legs and arms? You're not quite sure yet), ripping up a wave of dirt, grass, and small rocks, like the bow wave of a ship. Fortunately, your long neck keeps your face well away from the flying dirt and rocks.
Looking behind you, you see a deep gash in the grass of the valley. Nice landing.
It's not until you get up, supporting your weight on your new claws, that you realize how much weight there is. Your feet leave deep prints in the hard-packed dirt of the valley; your head is level with the tops of the trees. You've grown quite a lot at some point without noticing - easy enough to do in freefall. It's hard to tell with only trees for comparison, but you think a human's head would just about reach your knees.
You can stand on your hind legs, which is a relief, but they're shorter than you're used to - about as long as your arms, actually. You have to lean on your tail to stay upright. Walking on two legs is out of the question. Your hands are still hands, with fingers and thumbs - even if they are the size of manhole covers- but you feel more comfortable when they're on the ground.
Still, you stand up to take a look around. There's not much you haven't seen already. Sharp red-orange peaks of stone cover the land all the way to the horizon, glowing like fossilised flames in the sunset. The sun is huge here; you hadn't noticed before, but it's easily six times the size of the one you're used to. The hot orange light feels good on your scales. It's good in a new way, though - it's not just warm, it's... It's... You can't quite put your talon on it.
Your scales, by the way, are a dazzling shade of coppery orange, as if to match the rocks. They look and feel almost metallic. The membranes of your wings are pink, almost a peachy color, and your underside is covered with softer scales in pale gold.
Speaking of which, you're naked. Completely. Between falling to your death and flying for the first time, you haven't really had time to notice, but you suddenly feel rather relieved that you're alone. Your clothes, what's left of them, have probably landed in some hole out there in the endless desert. You doubt they'd fit even if you could find them.
A quick check, though, and you find that you really have nothing to cover up; your chest is flat and reptilian, and there's nothing between your hind legs but a barely visible slit in the scales. Whatever reproductive organs dragons have are, apparently, all on the inside.
Besides, now that you think of it, who ever heard of a dragon wearing clothes?
With that weight off your mind, you take a look at your more immediate surroundings. The valley is quite pretty, aside from the big hole you left in it. Green grass, trees, little pools of water... Small red flowers in the grass... Black dots on the horizon...
Wait a minute.
There are things flying towards the valley - other dragons, you assume, though they're still too far away to tell. They probably heard you roaring your head off a few minutes ago. Either that, or the thud when you "landed." They're almost certainly coming to find you.
Written by Chrysalis on 03 October 2010
The end (for now)