{Shelby} Dragon's Sacrifice {Chaotic Cello}

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As soon as Myla exited the room, Amara let out a sigh of relief and collapsed onto his back. Their conversation had been so exhausting and had hit so many sensitive points with him. He chose not to dwell on his lost mate and hatchling because if he did....if he did he wasn't sure if he could make it through the day. It was why he collected so much gold. Because with so much, instead of just getting the feeling of slight bliss and mesmerization (which is why dragons are naturally attracted to it) he could induce hypnotic trance like state and just forget for a little while.

His eyes closed. At least he was away from the human and alone for now. Alone. He rolled over with a groan. The word simply sent a pang through him. He liked not being bothered by the human--especially about his past--so he liked being alone. But he didn't like being alone. He released his grip in the mirror so it was laying on the ground beside him. All of this was just so confusing and he just wanted to escape it.

Planning to throw himself back at the gold's mercy, he went to roll over again so he can have a better view, but instead of rolling onto more ground he tumbled into the water. He barely made a splash and luckily his mirror was safely on the ground, but now he was wet. Amara lied in the water before he finally climbed out, taking the fall into the water as a sign that maybe now wasn't the best time to be enchanted by the gold.

When he finally exited the treasure cove (mirror put away safely of course) Amara looked and felt like a wet dog. He was shirtless, shivering, and his pants were barely hanging on his hips due to the weight of the water. His two small golden horns on the top of his head were not actually hidden in his hair...and in his said hair Amara had two separate bone combs stuck in his dripping, red wild tangle of mess. He held another two in his hands. "I fell in. Don't laugh" he admitted, voice deadpanned.

He then walked to the pile of furs and not caring if they got wet he fell face first into the pile. He remained still for a good thirty seconds before he turned his head and held out one of two the bone combs that weren't in his hair. "You can keep it...for you so this" a vague gesture towards his own set of hair was made. "Doesn't happen."
 
She wasn't sure why, but as Myla continued to sit there, desperately trying to clear her mind, she couldn't do it. All her thoughts seemed to center around the Dragon and how he had lost his loved ones, and so long ago too. How could he live like that? More than likely it had something to do with the gold, especially since he seemed to be not himself, what ever that meant, when ever entering that room. Maybe he just wanted to forget, and that helped?

Myla groaned, a headache beginning to form. This wasn't good. She shouldn't be thinking about that, she shouldn't be thinking about him especially. No attachments, she told herself, continuing to run her hands through her hair, something that she often did when ever something bothered her. She couldn't afford to feel sympathy towards the beast, because if she did, she continued to tell herself, it would be harder for her to kill him, and she would probably feel even more guilty about the matter. A sigh escaped from her lips. She was beginning to learn too much about him, she was beginning to depend on him too much, what with the food he had brought her and everything... She had to distance herself.

'He's keeping me here, captive,' she told herself, trying to convince her mind again that he was keeping her trapped. 'He thinks of me to be treasure, a trophy, to which I am not.' Yes, this seemed to bring back her resentful side to the Dragon, up until he came out of the little cove of treasures, soaked with water.

She watched him as he made his way over towards he pile of pets, plopping himself down at the top as soon as he made it, a few drops of water splashing down on her in the process, but she wiped the little drops away and gave the dragon a puzzled look. Obviously he had fallen into that little pond in the cove, and his words only made that a fact. And even thought he told her not to laugh, she couldn't help but let out a little snort in amusement. She wasn't very good with following directions.

"You look... Terrible," she commented, furrowing her brows as she continued to stare at him, her eyes more focused on his hair than anything. The matted mess looked terrible, and she could only imagine what it felt like on the top of his head. Probably not very comfortable, and she actually felt kind of bad for it, but as soon as another sense of sympathy entered her system for the dragon she pushed it away. No sympathy... "And you obviously do not have a clue as to how to properly care for yourself in this form." She hesitantly took the bone comb from him, giving it a cautious look, but nevertheless she took it. At least it would be something she could use to keep her hair well, unlike his.
 
Amara huffed and threw the other comb at Myla. "I said don't laugh!" His voice was a grumble and he slowly sat up and crossed his arms. "And I don't look terrible." He frowned. He knew he looked bad at the moment, but it was just bad. Not terrible.

With a sigh he grabbed a clump of his long strands of hair, brought it so it was level with his face and made work of untangling one of the combs. His hair was hopelessly knotted in it and he feared he would have to cut it out. He worked hard growing his mane past his elbows and even if he only combed it other week or so he still liked his hair. "Okay, maybe it is pretty terrible. But it is your fault." He tugged hopelessly at the comb to no avail. Maybe if he waited for it to dry it would be more managable. "You made me talk about..." He trailed off and yanked at the comb again, wincing. "It's because I was thinking about feelings that you reminded me of I fell in the water. It's your fault."

He flopped onto his back. He was giving up with that comb, but was going to wait before trying to remove the other. "And I can too take care of myself! I have already told you I'm 3,000. You got to be good at taking care of yourself to live that long." He neglected to mention that he spent most of his time during those years in his true form, but felt that undermined his point...like his mess of hair.

His eyes flickered to her and then focused on her hair. It actually looked nice, unlike his. Maybe Amara could get her to help him. Without disproving his point....so he couldn't just ask her to help him. Challenging her though. That would be appropriate. He turned his head away. "And you are one to talk about taking care of yourself. You got captured by a dragon, and you can't hunt, clean or cook your food." That was a bit harsher than he expected, but he still had to find a way to challenge--not ask--her into fixing his hair. "So I doubt you could groom my hair better than this." Now he hoped she wouldn't be too upset with his insults and actually help him out.
 
Flinching away and moving out of the way of the flying projectile, what sounded a little like a growl (though it was only an irritated groan) escaped from Myla's mouth as she listened to the little clattering noise the comb made as it slid across the ground. Why that basterdly dragon... She narrowed her eyes, ignoring the baaing that came from the sheep as the object scared them, but at least they didn't seem to flee like before.

She turned her attention to the dragon, giving him an incredulous look as he blamed him falling into the water her fault. "My fault!? You blame me for what happened to you?" She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "When I sat in that cove with you, you were dry; when I left you were dry, so what ever happened between the time I was not in there and when you came out here cannot possibly be my fault." But when he mentioned those 'feelings' she had to, once again, think about the ones he lost. How long was he going to hold this against her, and make her feel bad about the situation despite the fact that she had nothing to do with what happened?

She sighed, continuing to watch Amara as he struggled to free one of the combs from his tangled locks, wincing herself as she watched the event. It looked painful, and for once she didn't sympathize him for this, especially given how this was his fault. No matter what he said, she still figured that he didn't know how to take care of himself, or his hair in that form. "I have seen pitiful fools survive for months in the village," she announced, "so surviving, even to some of the most foolish people, cannot be that hard. Besides, being a dragon probably has its advantages, and allows you all to live longer."

But his next statements really bothered her. So, now he called her out on her pitifulness since she was not trained to do those things? "I may not know those skills, but I do know that I was not 'captured' by a dragon. Merely given to one as compensation for the imbeciles in the village." She knew that it wasn't a good point, but she figured that it would suffice. Narrowing her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Anybody could groom your hair better than you can. That does not seem very hard."
 
Amara sighed. His challenge didn't work. And he seemed to anger Myla...again. Every time he opened his mouth he seemed to make this human angry or start an argument. Now she was calling him a fool and he wanted nothing more than to growl and make her take it back---but with his luck it would simply anger her further. So he looked away.

Maybe some of her anger is righteous. He knew nothing about this human; apart from the fact that she was human, female, had no mate or hatchling, a what seemed like an ass of a father, and loved her village. Hell, he wasn't even sure of her name. If she or someone else had told him, he wasn't paying attention to it at the time...so he has resorted to the title of human. That would be the infuriating equivalent of her calling him dragon all the time. And he hadn't exactly been the best host. He had--after all--taken her from her home, made her fly against her will, snarled and growled at her, argued, and said some not so nice things. Considering those circumstances, he understand some of her anger. It almost made him feel a little bad for her...so he let her win this one.

"Fine. I don't really know how to properly care for this form..or its hair. I spend most of my time in my true form...so there was never a need to learn." He bit his lip. Now was the hard part of letting her win. "So, human, can you just hel--hell..." Amara sighed and took a breath "help me fix it. Without cutting it all off. I like it long...it looks cool."

His voice was soft, but he didn't turn to face her. He was letting her win and asking for help. Dragons don't do that and it was embarrassing. He was barely capable of asking there was no way he would have been able to meet her in the eye and ask.
 
Myla frowned before shaking her head and putting her back towards the dragon, finding his argument to be irritating, and just his entire being to be irritating. It still was a wonder to her as to why she was still here, why he even kept her, but she was tired of asking and getting stupid answers back. This was so... Ugh! She swallowed, brushing her fingers through her hair, though it seemed to do more harm than good for the hair, seeing as how stray pieces fell from the bun she kept it in. Honestly, she couldn't really care at this moment.

She didn't even care to really listen to the dragon as he began to speak, his voice becoming a mere murmur in her mind as he continued on until he started to stutter in his speak. That caught her attention, causing the woman to actually turn to look at him, watching as he turned the opposite way to look away from her. Again she narrowed her eyes, even more confused now, but as he spoke the last of his sentence, to say that she was surprised would be an understatement. Did he just ask for help, and about his hair no less?

Honestly, she really didn't know what to say at first. She just stared at him, wondering if he was actually being serious about the situation, but when he said nothing else, she knew he was serious. He was actually asking for help. Just the thought perplexed Myla all the more, especially after thinking that this dragon was just a brute who listened to no one and asked for no help. Well, how her opinion changed on that, how ever so slightly that it was.

And she wanted to say no; to just be an overall bitch about the situation and let him suffer with the mess of hair he had, yet she couldn't do it. So instead she closed her eyes and sighed, making her way over to him before she assessed his hair. Yup, this was a mess. "I cannot guarantee that hair will not need to be cut off, because I do believe that some will have to be cut to salvage it, but I do not think that much will need to be taken off." She leaned over to look at him. "So, if you let me do what I want, then I will help. If you yell at me, I will not." She rose her brows at him, wondering how he would react.
 
Amara wanted to growl at her and his eyes were narrowed in frustration. He said he didn't want it cut. Not wanting it cut meant not cutting any of it off. Cutting a little...it still meant cutting it and he didn't like that idea at all. But she was offering to help and her hair was so nice. She had to know what she was doing.

He slowly looked up at her. "Cutting it is the last resort...and only a little bit." He slowly sat up and pinched his fingers around air, leaving less than an inch between them to emphasize the little point. He knew if she had to cut it to salvage it, she would probably need to cut more than he demonstrated. He was even (maybe) willing to accept the reality of it. But the point that little ment minimum had to be established.

He turned his body so he was sitting with his back to her, so she could work. "And I won't yell at you...unless you shear it all off and make me bald. Then I eat you." He didn't mean his last words. The threat was empty and was just his way of making up for being so...incapable...in his current situation. It also probably wasn't the best way to secure help. Well he couldn't take it back, and the last time he tried to change his words he made it worse, it was pointless to try.

He attempted to run his claws through the mess, only tangling them in them and making it worse. He sighed. Cutting some of it was a reality. "Take a sword...or dagger--dagger is better actually--From the entryway for the cutting. I don't gave shears so it will have to do."
 
She only blinked at him when he announced the amount of hair that he wanted cut if it became necessary that she had to. All Myla did was look from the inch he had separated from his fingers, look at his hair, and then snort, thinking that she was probably going to have to cut more. But, she figured that they would just have to wait and see, though she had to admit that his little threat did nothing to soothe her in the least bit, especially since being eaten by a dragon was not on her list of things to happen to her. "We will see," she merely said to him after he turned his back to her, presenting all of his hair to her.

She sighed under her breath, muttering a small 'oh boy' under her breath as she took in the appearance of it. This could take hours, or maybe even days, to make it look good, and she was by no means excited about it. When he mentioned using either the sword or daggers it peaked her attention greatly. Could she.... She shook her head. No, not right now. Not when he's fully alert and able to retaliate against her. That would surely mean her death.

So she merely went over to the entrance of the cave and grabbed one of the daggers, running her finger against the blade of it before heading back over to the dragon. Again, this blade was sharp, a new blade more thank likely, but she still figured that she wouldn't be able to kill him, not instantly any way, and without being able to kill him instantly, he could kill her instantly. She wasn't about to risk it yet.

When Myla made it back over to him she sat down, putting the dagger on the ground before she started trying to loosen some of the strands of hair from one of the combs that he had been trying to pull out before. She tugged on it lightly, biting her lip in the process before she just started to try and twist it out. "I hope you are not tender headed." After about ten minutes of trying to work the comb out, using the comb she had given him to try and brush the hair out, it was actually beginning to loosen, and she hadn't even had to cut anything. Yet. "How did you get this stuck in there?" She asked, still working on it, nearly having gotten it out after about fifteen minutes.
 
He was nervous when she brought the dagger over. The thought of being attacked with it never even crossed his mind. No, he was only worried about his hair. All Amara could would try to hold still as possible as Myla worked on his hair. His back was rigid and all of his muscles were tense and he had to admit he was uncomfortable. The tugging, untangling, and pulling hurt a bit. He wasn't going to show weakness, complain or do anything to make his hair any worse. Especially when she isn't hacking it away.

Her question made him squirm a little bit though. "I was trying to comb it." He stated, biting his lip. "It just wasn't working very well. The comb got caught and I tangled it worse when trying to get it out. I got the other comb to try and comb the rest, but the same thing happened... I haven't combed it since...since..umm" he paused. When was the last time he combed it? He couldn't remember. He racked his vain and realized he had not the slightest idea. "Well I'm not too sure." He laughed a bit awkwardly.

He closed his eyes. "I suppose that might be my problem...thank you for trying to fix it." His back was hurting from the stiffness he was forcing onto himself and it couldn't hurt to relax just a little bit. So ever so slowly he eased himself into a slouch.
 
Myla had to admit that seeing the dragon this uptight and rigid about getting his hair back into relatively good shape was kind of funny, and on more than one occasion she had to try and stop herself from laughing at the beast. It wouldn't be right, and either way her concentrating on the task at hand helped her not laugh. But still, to be so nervous over getting his hair fixed? He was a dragon, after all, to this was not something that she expected him to be nervous about.

When he started to answer her question she had to stop, raising her brows in question. "This did not look like an attempt at trying to comb your hair. If looked like you were trying to attack it with the comb." And the fact that he couldn't remember the last time he combed it made her last point about him not knowing how to care for himself in this form even more valid. She resumed on the work then, getting her fingers more into the hair as she figured that she was finally beginning to figure out this puzzle that was trying to get this comb out, one of them anyway. But when he said thank you... She had to stop again, shocked that he even said that.

It brought a re tint to her cheeks, but she snorted and shook her head, pushing the thought to the side and continuing on the work. She said nothing in response, however, and merely continued to tell herself to not get too involved. She was going to have to kill him eventually, so there was no use in taking his words to heart. But still...

Another five minutes when by and she was finally able to free the comb from the tangled mess of hair, a smile gracing her lips a she was finally able to lift it in the air. There were still strands of hair tangled into the comb, some of the pieces that she had to just pull out, but it wasn't as bad as she had thought. "One down, and one more to go. That was not bad, was it?" She put put the comb down next to the dagger before she started sifting through the hair until she found the other comb, which looked to be even more tangled then the other one had been. "This one does not look good," she mentioned, frowning. She started tryign to work it. "This one might need to be cut."
 
Amara frowned. "Of course, I used the the comb to attack. I have to vanquish the tangles." He said his words as if they were logical and as far as he was concerned they were. And he returned to his silence, offering no more thoughts on that.

A smile spread across his face when she untangled the comb though. She didn't have to cut his hair! The human had got it out. He felt that some strands were yanked away in the process, but it didn't matter. He could keep his hair. Amara was about ready to get up and hug Myla, but there was still the matter of the second comb. "It wasn't that bad. Just get the other one out too." He kept the smile on his face, much more relaxed now.

It fell and he tensed up again the second she mentioned this one needs to be cut. His voice was nearly a growl when it came out. "Last resort. Trying everything else first. I can take some yanking and pulling." He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that she would be able to get the comb out, but preparing himself for the worst. She got the first one out. Myla knew what she was doing and due to his previous threat he doubted she would cut it unnecessarily. He just had to trust her. Trust the human that he is holding captive and spends more time arguing with then not. Doubts flitted his mind, but he squashed them. He was going to try and trust her.
 
This time Myla let a laugh escape from her lips at his statement about him attacking his hair. "I did not mean that literally," she spoke, again setting back to work on trying to untangle the other comb. She noticed how, at one point, his body completely relaxed, and he even seemed a bit happy, but then as soon as she mentioned having to possibly cut his hair, she also noticed how that relaxed posture turned rigid instantly. Hey, this was his fault, she figured. Had he taken better care of his hair, then he wouldn't be in this situation, but she decided to keep that thought to herself, for once.

"I will try what I can, but I make no promises about it." And she kept up with her word. She worked on the comb with about the same techniques she used with trying to free the other comb, though being a little more aggressive with this. She pulled and prodded, biting her lip in concentration a little harder than normal, yet she still was unable to free the comb. Her fingers were beginning to hurt as well, but that didn't bother her much. It was just a dull throb since she was twisting her fingers into the hair, getting them tangled a little as well, yet always being able to free it.

After about twenty five minutes of trying to free the comb, still to no avail, she sighed and dropped her hands, basically glaring at the comb now, as well as at the back of Amara's head. Damn... "It is too tangled in there," she spoke, looking down at the dagger before leaning over to look at the dragon. "I have to cut it, a little of it anyway. I will try my best to not cut much off, all right?"
 
Amara made faces as she worked at his hair. He was glad she was at least trying to fix it by hand. But the longer she worked at it, the more nervous he got. It was taking longer than the first comb and she was pulling and tugging much more. It hurt more than before, but he wasn't complaining. He was just glad she couldn't see the grimances and other expressions he was making.

When she said it had to be cut he winced and clenched his hands tight. His claws dug into the palm of his hands and he could feel them drawing blood. He slowly took a breath and forced himself to calm down a bit. He leaned his head back to look at Myla. "Fine." He huffed.

He then crossed his arms and returned his head to facing forward. He wasn't happy, but it had to happen.
 
Myla stretched her arms out beside her, taking a deep breath as she listened to the dragon's disgruntled answer. She knew he wasn't happy about this, but what else could she do unless he wanted to keep this comb locked in his hair?

"All right. Just, do not jerk your head away too quickly. I do not want to accidentally stab the back of your head." Though she had to admit, making it seem like an 'accident' became very appealing to the woman, but she pushed the thought aside as she picked the dagger up. Still, it was too risky, and she doubted that he would appreciate the feeling very much, which might cause him to lash out at her. Too many consequences could happen with it, yet wasn't that with everything? With every action there was something else to go along with it, whether it be good or bad that could impact one's life.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, thinking that the subject was much too deep for her liking, especially in a situation like this, and because this would just stimulate her natural way to want to ramble on about something, her mind never resting until she figured she had processed every thought she could possibly think of. No wonder her head ached so much.

The thought of whether or not she could break the bone comb crossed her mind, but she knew that that wouldn't work, and it probably only serve to further complicate the situation. If she broke the comb, more pieces would be separated into his hair, making more pieces becoming tangled, and she didn't want to deal with that she doubted if he would want that either. So, very delicately, kind of anyway, she pulled on the chunk of hair that held the comb, pulling it tight so that she would be able to cut the pieces that she wanted to. And while she knew it would have just been easier to cut that entire section off, she didn't want to do that. It would make the hair look uneven, ensuring that she would have to cut off more if she wanted to make it look right.

So instead, she tried to cut on the comb, as in slicing the parts that seemed most tangled in the comb. She worked diligently, yet carefully leaning forward a bit as she ran the blade threw a few strands of hair, watching as a few pieces flitted down to land on the ground. Hopefully he didn't freak...

It didn't take too long, but eventually she was able to free the comb, and, to her surprise, she hadn't even had to cut off as much as she had thought. And the hair still looked fine. She rose her brows at the sight, tilting her head. He had a lot of hair, that much anyone could tell, and with all the thickness came the fact that this little 'cutting' looked like it was nothing. She was able to free the comb without making his hair look uneven or even more of a mess. "You will not even be able to notice that it has been cut," she spoke, obvious pride swelling from her voice. She dropped the comb right next to the other one, setting the dagger aside as well.
 
Amara held his breath and held still as possible when she began cutting his hair. It wasn't so much that he was afraid of accidently stabbed. That thought actually made him want to laugh.

Sure the dagger would hurt s bit if it hit the bsck if his head, but his skull was there. No accidental stabbing--especially by a human--- could penetrate the bone and kill him. No, he was holding still because he was concerned about the knife slipping and cutting out a huge chunk of hair.

He kept his eyes on the ground as she began cutting. He breathed in a bit as he saw the first strands hit the ground. He half expected it to hurt, but knew that thought was ridiculous. He was just overly attached to his hair.

When the second lock hit the ground he closed his eyes. If he kept seeing it fall to the ground, he would move. So he sat there not moving with hus eyes closed until Myka declared it finished.

He opened his eyes one at a time and hissed when he saw the hair in the ground. The pile was too big for his liking, but as he stared at it he realkzed it wasn't that bad.

Cautiously he reached up and ran his hand through the area where she had cut. He could feel that some strands were shorter, but he had to search to find the short strands. She was right it wasn't noticable.

A smile crossed his face. It was okay. He turned around so he was facing Myla, "Thank you. It is...not bad." He then turned to the combs on the ground and glared,"And I learned my lesson. I'm never combing my hair again." He picked up one of the combs and threw it blindly in one of the direction, hitting one of the sheep--frightening it.

He swore and shook his head. "Because combs are evil."
 
As the sheep started running around, it caused a chain reaction with the other one, causing another series of baaing and the clattering of their hooves running against the ground. Ugh, how annoying, yet she was becoming used to the noise, so it was easier for her to ignore the frantic movements of the animals. Instead, her mind stayed with what the dragon had said, the word of thanks reverberating through her mind again. Still, it stuck her as odd to think that he would even admit something like that, and she couldn't help but turn head her to look away, slightly embarrassed about it.

Sure, it was nice to get praise, but it was just so... Weird, especially coming from him. After all, he really was the first one to ask for her help, beside her mother, and it almost felt nice to know that he had actually appreciated what she had done.

And she even laughed at his little comment about the comb being evil, but when the little rumbles of laughter sprouted from her mouth she covered her lips with the back of her hand, calming herself down. No need to show this much contentment to the very being she just about despised at the moment. "The combs are not evil," she spoke ,a hint of playfulness coming from her tone. Yup, despite how she wanted to keep a relatively cool facade at that moment, she couldn't help but tease the beast. "If you actually took care of your hair on a regular basis, then you would not have to deal with combs being tangled in it, or just tangles in general." She pointed to her hair then. "If you cared for it like you claim, then it would be like mine. Nice."
 
Amara chuckled at Myla as she attempted to hide her laughter and smiled at the playfulness in her tone. Pleasantness and amusment were much better than anger and arguments. And it had been a long time since anyone has dared to tease him. Of course, if anyone ever found out he was letting a human tease him his reputation would suffer. But his reputation would also suffer from a lot of things he has been doing lately---asking a human for help, thanking her, falling into his pond. One more thing couldn't hurt, he could relax and have some fun.

"The comb us too evil!" He stuck out his tongue, laughing before he rolled his eyes. "And I do care about it...combing it everyday is just so excessive. And so much work....plus maybe I wanna look like a wild, fearsome dragon. And while your hair is nice," Amara eyed her hair with a little bit of envy. "I would hardly look the part in a bun." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I would be laughed out of all the villages and would have to actually start hurting people for more gold."

He shook his head, "And if I did that you would probably be trying to stab me with that dagger." He joked before flopping onto his back.
 
Myla let the smile show, as well as even let t he laugh escape from her lips this time. It would be too much of an effort to contain it anyway, and what could be so bad about showing this kind of emotion to the dragon. Probably a lot, actually, but she decided to just worry about it later. Though she couldn't help let her previous thoughts about not getting to close tot his dragon, as well as not becoming attached to him, lingered in the back of her mind.

Could this little casual talk about hair combs be something considerably close to mingling with each other, as well as just enjoying each others company? She nearly frowned at the thought, but what completely made her smile falter was when he mentioned her probably trying to stab him. It made her stop short, her heart rate beginning to race at the thought. Did he know? Know, he couldn't possible know that she was planning to kill him, especially not with how he playfully said the statement. He merely meant it as a joke.

Still, it made Myla nervous. Very nervous.

Trying to distract herself from the statement, she looked down and fingered the bun she hair her hair wrapped up in. She gave a small snort. "I keep it like this so that it does not bother me when I am doing things. The hair can become quite bothersome at times, but nevertheless, if you think caring for your hair is so bothersome, why keep it long? I am sure you would still be menacing without it."
 
Amara was oblivous to Myla's nerves. The thought that she would eventually might attempt to kill him could not be enertained so it was not on his radar in the least bit. Farmers that he steals from throw rocks. Kings order armies after dragons. Knights attack for glory. Thrives do not attack and simply try to flee. Women attacking dragons was unheard of, so it wasn't a concern to him--and allowed him to joke with ease.

He stared at her as she touched her bun with a smile plastered on his face. A bun wouldn't look good on him, but had had to admit it suited her and this more happy side of her that he was seeing. He frowned at her question and shrugged. "Most dragons don't have short hair...I don't think. Well the couple I have met didn't anyways. Besides, I just don't like it short. So I keep it long." That was hardly a good reason, but to him it was reason enough. He also had good memories associated with his hair, but that was somthing he didn't want admit it. She had learned enough about him today and he hardly felt like sharing more.

"Enough about my hair...tell me something about you. Your name, something interesting, human things? I'm not too sure. Just something. I got nothing on you really and for all intents and purposes you live here now."
 
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, dropping her hands so that they rested on her lap as she turned her head up to look at the dragon. "Just because most dragons keep their hair long, or so you say, does not mean that you have to. Differentiating yourself from others is always something people, or even things, should strive for." Myla still refused to think of Amara as a 'being' of some sorts, if only because that was mostly what she had been taught, but nevertheless, what ever he was, she still figured that trying to separate yourself from others was what anyone should do.

She knew trying to be 'different' could subject people to being outcasted, being pointed out to be a fool, much like the people in her village viewed her. But she cared not much for what they said about her; merely that they didn't respect her for wanting to be her own person, and not just subjecting herself to the ways of a woman.

When he asked her for information about herself, Myla found herself hesitating to answer, wondering whether or not she really want to tell him about her. Attachments... Don't get attached. She let those words ring in her head before closing her eyes, pondering on whether or not she wanted to reveal anything.

"Myla, that is my name," she spoke, figuring that this detail was harmless. "There is not much interesting about me, other than I am nothing but a disgrace to my family, as well as, according to the villagers, just a foolish woman who does not know her place. And us humans... We are just odd beings, as you can probably tell." She opened her eyes then, looking at Amara.
 
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