{Shelby} Dragon's Sacrifice {Chaotic Cello}

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Amara spoke no more about about his hair. Differentiating himself was a thought, but he saw no real need. It wasn't like all dragons are identical or that they spent a lot of time together in general. They find out he is being soft with this human there might be territorial disputes, but cutting his hair? That really wouldn't matter to them. And he liked it long, so long it would stay.

A smile broke across her face when she divulged her name, but it fell when she revealed more information. Disgrace? His eyes flickered over her scrutinizing for something that would explain it. He saw no physical deformities. He didn't notice any mental defects in her. And she was pretty. It didn't make sense to him. Then it clicked when she mentioned a women's place and remembered from earlier she didn't have a mate or hatchling. They didn't like her because she refused to take a mate? That was baffling and boderline infurating to him, and it only re-enforced her comment on humans being odd.

"Myla" he said, smiling. It sounded a lot better than human, "Myla. You aren't a disgrace. And there has to be something interesting." He shrugged, but didn't push her any further. If she didn't want to talk he wouldn't make her.
 
It surprised her when the dragon spoke her name, the sound of it rolling from his tongue sensing a little jolt through Myla. Quickly, she shook her head and looked away then, grunting lightly to herself as she basically scolded herself within her mind. It was just him saying her name, and though she didn't real want admit it, it felt nice that he was actually acknowledging her by name, instead of just saying human. Maybe she should call him by his name, Amara?

She frowned at the thought. No, she wasn't going to start that.

But her attention was instantly brought back to the dragon, a surprised look crossing her face as he mentioned her not being a disgrace, something that she had never heard before. It made her blush lightly, but this time she didn't look away. To finally have someone say that she wasn't a lost cause like her father always insisted, the other villagers always agreeing with the fact, saying that she was just a mere nothing. "You are the only one who thinks that," she spoke, the blush fading away as her voice grew a bit wistful, yet serious. "I think of myself to be... Misunderstood. But again, there is not much interesting about me. I have no... Mate, as you call, or 'hatchling' unlike the women in the village. Actually, all of the women my age have been married or 'mated' for years now. It is only customary, however, so me not conforming to the society rules makes me different." She shrugged her shoulders. "It means nothing, however. Not to me, anyway."

She didn't know why she was telling him all this, but she couldn't stop herself when she started.
 
Amara noticed her blush and raised a brow. He simply mentioned what he saw as a fact. It wasn't like he had said anything...inappropriate. He didn't comment on it though. It probably was just some human oddness.

But his musings were halted as Myla continued speaking. He was the only one that saw her that way? He didn't get it. He was a dragon that was barely concerned with humans, but he could at least see some value.

His expression then slowly took on one of distgust. Placing value only on having a mate. Finding a mate is customary? That was just wrong. Mates they shouldn't just be forced, a rule of society. Though he could go to explaining why there are so many humans. Having hatchlings just because someone says you should. It was wrong.

"They are..they are..." He couldn't find the words to convey his thoughts. "Wrong. People aren't mates if it is just custom. They are your other word. The one that is stupid and without meaning." He shook his head. "And there should be no value on that." He said, sighing. Once again, he found himself unable to properly convey his thoughts.
 
Nearly laughing at the dragon's outright disgust for the situation she had described, Myla could agree with everything he had said. It was wrong, to have to be forced into a marriage, though most women were ecstatic to be wed, especially should their husband be a knight or someone up higher on the social class. The higher in social class your husband was, the higher class you were, and while most people didn't argue against it, she, however, did.

But nevertheless, though she had had her fair share of on lookers, always promising her things that she knew they would not keep, if only because she had seen it happen too many times to other women, the men never asked her hand in marriage because of her attitude, and she was fine with that. The men promising women that they would take good care of their wives when it was in fact the wives doing the taking care of. .. Sure, some couples were actually in love, or eventually fell in love, but she knew most only married because they were supposed to. It was their job as a woman to submit to the men and do their bidding, as well as take care of the house, sometimes even the animals should the husband own any, and care for the children while the men did nothing but drink ale until they could process no coherent thoughts, and just worked their jobs that they thought were their life. They didn't care, or at least this is all how Myla saw everything, and she refused to be oppressed like that.

"You are right; it is a disgusting act, though I can say that sometimes it works out for some women, while others it does not. They are just blind, and refuse to do anything about it, but that is their own fault." Myla frowned, her brows creasing. "That is why I refuse to do it; because I refuse to just be someone's wife, and own nothing because of him." The bitterness of her words could be heard. "I will not be a trophy..." She merely muttered that last part before she shook her head, the entire subject upsetting her. "But what about you dragons? What are your customs, if you have any?"
 
Amara could not wrap his head around how such relationships could actually work. Maybe it was because humans' lives were shorter. They had less time so they could convince themselves that it would be alright. He didn't understand the part of owning nothing---it was probably just another strange human custom.

He could only find him strangely happy that she refused to follow the customs and found them equally revolting. He couldn't make out her muttering--even with his keen hearing--but he let it go. Especially because of his shock about her next question. But he could entertain it.

She wanted to know dragon customs? Where would he begin? "When we are hatchlings until about the age 500-750 we live with our parents and their territory. In their nest when we are really young. In the other part of the territory when we are a little older. Then we move out to find our own territories. We are still pretty umm social at that age so we actually travel to other territories and interact. Generally we find and court our mates then or just chose to be alone. Courting takes hundreds of years...it is important to....it is...we have to...ummm...we are kinda like swans. We normally only have only one mate in our whole life....even if something happens to our mate. It is almost unheard of for a dragon to go look for another."

He paused and looked at the ground before continuing, "Mates move in together than have hatchlings and become solitary apart from our---their little family." He finished, now talking quickly to get it over with. He hadn't been uncomfortable when he started speaking, but now he practically fidgeting and staring at the ground in a refusal to make eye contact. Myla knew that he no longer has his mate and now he just told her that he would just live alone for the rest of his life.

He shrugged. "And that is about it." It really wasn't, everything had some many steps and nuances...but it covered the basics.
 
Myla furrowed her brows at his explanation, surprised that he even answered what she had asked, but happy, and all the while even more curious at the same time. To have to live for so long... It seemed so odd to Myla, though she knew that it was normal for dragons, or so he said. Still, she didn't think she would ever want to live that long, even if humans had the ability to stay alive for all those years. But what surprised her most was when he mentioned the mates, saying that dragons only kept one, no matter what, and that reminded her, again, of how he lost his. It made her wonder... Would he have taken her as an offering had his mate and hatchling still been alive, or would he have killed her and destroyed the village. Or would he have come to collect any gold at all?

She knew all too well how little things could change so much in ones life, and losing loved ones probably further expanded a change. They probably weren't good changes either, but she guessed that it depended on how the person, or thing, dealt with the situation.

"Does it not get... Repetitive, to live for as long as you have?" She asked, trying to avoid the subject of his mates, since it seemed to have become a bother to him, if only because he continued to squirm about, uncomfortably. She figured she pushed that matter too much already anyway, so she decided to speak of something else. "I can see the advantages, possibly, of living as long as you have. You, know doubt, have seen many changes happen on this earth with all the years. Cultures changes, people changes, locations change... I just feel as if living a life that long can be somewhat pointless, or boring."
 
Amara was glad that she was no longer questioning him about mates, but this subject hardly seemed any better. They were just joking about combs and teasing each other a little bit ago. How did they kove on to such heavy and serious topics instead? It was almost like this human was trying to send him into a depression. His eyes flickered over to Myla and only saw what he thought to be curosity. He couldn't blame her for that.

So he sighed. Saying living so long was repetitive hit the nail on the head. As he thiught about how to answer her question properly Amara was barely aware of his expression change. He looked so tired and his eyes weren't reflecting amusement, annoyance, fear or anything else like that. They for once reflecting his age and...resignation. He knew his life had been monotonous for a long while, and that all the advatages she spoke about were meanigless details. Just admiting it out loud was something he didn't want to do.

A sad smile that didn't even come close to meeting his eyes crossed his face. "Not at all." He lied, his tone and expression not matching his words, but the opposite. He didn't continue and stared blankly into the air.

Then suddenly his expression took on one of wist. "Dragons don't have---don't believe in an afterlife." He paused, musing far from the first time the existance of one. But he stopped. They lived so long. There was no reason for some paraduse to exist for them ro live again. "Our long lives thats it for us. So..." He shrugged. He didn't know what else to say. So we make it count? So we treasure it? Spend all our time with our loved ones because that all they had? No. None of those were right and he wasn't sure anything was right.

He then forced himself to smile. A fake one that nearly looked real. "So we have deidcate ourselves to the important things. Like the destruction of all combs due to their inherent evilness!" There they were back to talking aboyt combs something he could handle much better. His fake smile finalky looked really real and all trace of tiredness, resignation, and age left his face and eyes.
 
He was lieing, that much Myla could tell, or at least from his first statement about living so long not being repetitive. His voice betrayed him, as well as the look that graced his features. That sad, tired look that conveyed much of his emotions... It was in that moment that made Myla realized that he really was old, despite how he looked now, despite how he acted at times, or at least from what she had seen. No doubt his life had been hard, a lonely one at that, and pack all that on with all the years he has had to live? She didn't blame him for looking tired, yet it reminded her all the more that they were completely different from each other, in probably every which way.

It was sad, something she had never really thought about before. Humans lived a relatively short lives, only doing few meaningful things, and even half the humans probably never amounted to anything. They had so little time on this Earth, that they rushed into things, which, she figured, was probably a reason why so many rushed into marriage or just did it because it was their 'custom'. Human life was simple": Live, work, and procreate, that was it. Dragons lived longer, and even if they didn't believe in an after life, they probably accomplished so much more than humans could ever hope to accomplish in a life time, yet... Wasn't there only so many things one could do in a life time?

"Right," she spoke, her voice void of much emotion. "I guess believing in something like the afterlife for you all is pointless." She had looked away as she pondered on her previous thoughts, but now she looked towards the dragon, giving him a confused glance. She didn't believe his smile, despite how real it looked. How easily he was able to change the subject, to try and lighten the mood. "You hide a lot, you know that? Or at least, you do not like to be serious." She tilted her head and furrowed her brows, her confused look turning more curious again. "You are odd." With that she stood up, brushed off a few stray hairs that had fallen on her, and walked down the piles of pelt towards where she knew the meat from the cow would be at, finding herself a bit hungry again.
 
Amara's smile didn't falter; even when Myla pretty much told him she wasn't buying it. He knew he hid a lot. He was trying to hide a lot. It was the point. Hiding weakness, hiding sadness, shoving all the bad things under a mask was the only way to get through it all. Shove it down, with all the serious things (which almost always caused sadness, loneliness and everything else to ruse to the surface) and fake it as long as he can. Then when he couldn't do it anymore, retreat to the treasure room and fall under the enchantment until he could fake it again. It was a practice he thought he had perfected, but a human calling him out on it...that made him second guess just how good he was at it. But that didn't show. Not until she called him odd.

The smile fell a bit and some bafflment crossed his face. She thought he was odd? Of all the words he could come up to describe himself, odd would not be his pick. But he oddly found that he didn't mind being called odd. It was almost...nice. He knew it wasn't a compliment, but knew it wasn't meant as an insult. It was as if Myla was almost warming up to him and he liked it.

He didn't follow as she walked away to her food, but did finally get up, and stared at the pile of pelts. He suppose now was as good as ever to rearrange it so they could both sleep more comfortably. So he got to work. Separting the pile and spreading the pelts out on the floor in slightly overlapping making a large almost like carpet across most of the floor. He kepts some in a small pile though so they could use them as pillow and blankets. This new setup wasn't as nice as one big pile, but it would do.
 
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She sat in silence for a while, muddling through her thoughts as she picked through the meat, choosing which pieces she wanted to eat, and which pieces she deemed questionable. It wasn't as good as it had been earlier, though that was only to be suspected given the amount of time the meat had just been sitting out. Then again, the pelt had helped a lot, and at least no bugs or any other pest crawled its way onto the food supply, though she doubted that this stuff would last till next morning. Unless she found herself desperate enough, she probably wouldn't eat it, if only out of fear of getting sick, which she did not want to do, especially here.

Besides, Myla didn't necessarily trust the dragon to give her the necessities she would need to feel better, despite how... Helpful he had been before. A sigh escaped her lips as that thought crossed her mind. Helpful... Why was he being so nice to her, and why had she even been nice to him? Helping him out with his hair, having meaningless conversations about him, though delving into relatively deep subjects. Only to have those topics thrown out because either one of them felt uncomfortable. Yet... As she thought about it, just talking with him didn't seem so bad. But she knew how bad that actually was.

She was getting too close, she knew she was, yet why did it feel so ready to fall into a conversation with him, even after having argued about something only moments before? To be honest, it was almost really amusing to argue with him. It got him riled up, almost angry which was what she was always expecting of him. For him to just be angry all the time, for him to want to kill everything because that was what she had been taught all her life. To fear the dragons, to flee from them and just submit to them so that you could stay alive. Or, if all else fails, try to kill them, though they would always laugh in the face of women when anything came up about killing something. Women weren't strong, they would always say. They can't take down something like a dragon.

She wanted to prove them wrong, oh how she wanted to so badly! But... Amara, the dragon, didn't seem like they all pronounced him to be. He wasn't that furious, or at least from what she had seen. He just intimidated others, threatened them because he knew, or so she thought, that he could scare them to do anything he wanted them to do. Like he did the village. But other than that, he was actually calm, in most moments, and just all around someone, or something, that wanted to just be.

Turning her head to look behind her once she had finished eating, or at least once she had lost her appetite, she was very surprised to see that he was fixing the pelts, making more room. 'For the both of us...' She thought, turning away before she stood up. She needed some air, and with that thought she walked towards the entrance of the cave, walking out and taking a deep breath as she took in the fresh air. She needed to kill him, and quick, if she didn't want to feel guilty about anything. If she didn't want to have any repercussions for her actions.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, giving another sigh as she looked out into the horizon. Birds chirped, flying over head, but otherwise it was all silent. Peaceful.
 
Amara was almost done rearranging the pelts when Myla left the room. Really, he was completely done and just wanted to lay down and access how comfortable this new arrangment was. But Myla's abrupt exit ceased all thoughts about the arrangment of furs.

He wasn't sure why, but he knew something was off. The human hadn't run or done anything suspicious, but instinctively he felt somthing was off kilter. Maybe she was trying to escape? Amara gritted his teeth and hoped that wasn't the case. He couldn't remember what he threatened in the event of an attempted escape (or if he had actually even had threatened her about that at all), but he would have to do something if she was. He was starting to like being around her because she was surprising good company...and he had forgotten how nice not being alone was. He couldn't just let her walk out and escape and would have to teach her lesson for trying; which instead of frightening her, would probably make her angry at him instead. Again.

He sighed, stalking over to the entrance annoyed about this. Why would this girl be so stupid? But he halted when he passed the meats. His head slowly tilted to the side as something smelt off in the area. He slowly lifted the pelt covering them and looked at the pile when the faint smell of it going sour hit his nose. He frowned, picking up each piece of meat and identifying most of them beginning or in the process of going bad, and that realized Myla had just been eating this. Maybe she left had eaten a bad piece and had left so because she was being sick. Mahbe she wasn't trying to escape him.

He put all the bad pieces in the pelt and almost fashioned it as a bag of sorts that he carried with him as he walked briskly out of the cave.

He sighed in relief when he found her just standing outside and glanced around for vomit or signs of sickness as he slowly approached. He didn't see any, but he still had to keep a careful eye on her. Food sickness can take a while and seeing that she wasn't escaping (and he felt just a little bit bad for initally assuming), he assumed the possibility of sickness is what he sensed as off. "Hi." He said, as he toed the edge of the ledge and opened the pelt up so all the bad meat fell to the ground. It was wasteful, but necessary.

Amara then set the pelt down and looked back at Myla a look of concern on his face. "It was starting to go sour...you didn't eat too much right?" He shook his head. Thay didn't really matter at this point, and plus he didn't want to scare her. He shrugged. "If you aren't ever sure, I can just smell it. And we can just kill one of the sheep instead." It was the best he could offer to her, other than watching her for signs of sickness like a hawk---which he was going to do anyways.
 
When she heard footsteps behind her, though faint, she turned to look behind her, and when she saw Amara's figure approaching her, Myla stiffened and crossed her arms over her chest. She watched as he dumped the meats down the side of the cliff, leaning over the edge a bit to watch the bits and pieces scatter about before they became nothing to her eyes, disappearing into the waning light. She frowned, wondering how high up they actually were, though as that thought crossed her mind she backed up, not wanting to fall or to be pushed off by the dragon. Though she doubted he would do something like that, she just couldn't help but think it.

However, her thought process changed when she finally decided to look at him, evident concern etched into his eyes. Was he... Concerned about her, especially after she had just eaten the meat? Was he looking out for her now, not wanting to see her sick? Myla shook her head before she looked away, tossing the thought aside. No, there was no way he could be concerned about her. He was probably just worried about her being sick and messing up his place, or even soiling his pelts. Yeah, that had to be it. Yet...

Narrowing her eyes, Myla snorted and ran a hand through her hair, trying her best to seem indifferent about the situation, though she couldn't help but think about. He's just worried about his own things, she continued to tell herself. Not her. "I am fine," she spoke, still not looking back at him. Distance yourself... "I did not eat much of it, but even what I did eat it seemed fine, or at least that is what I thought." She shrugged. "I am not sick, so there is nothing to worry about."
 
What had he done this time to make her mad? She wasn't yelling at him, but the narrowed eyes, stiff posture, a snort, and crossed arms were telling...and he just didn't get it. They had been getting along fine just a little bit ago. She teased him, he had told her personal things, she actually told him her name! He hadn't even made a ridiculous empty threat and even moved his pelts so that she could have some space (and there was no way she didn't see the change). It didn't make sense that she is mad at him.

He bit his lip and just continued to stare at her with concern laced eyes. Maybe her emotions were a symptom of illness? He knew she just said she was fine (pretty adamantly he might add), but for all he knew that could br a symptom too. It wasn't like he was an expert on sickness...all he really knew about food sickness (or illness in general) was that it can cause you to vomit, die, and that somebody puts their hand on their forehead for some reason. There had to be more to it and anything else was just a random guess. He just didn't know enough.

Amara tilted his head. She could also just be not sick. There were a couple of good pieces of meat left, after all. She could have been lucky. He just couldn't be sure, and had a feeling that if he just continued to stare and stare and watch her, Myla might become justifiably angry. But trying the forehead thing probably won't hurt.

So he slowly approached and placed lightly his hand on her forehead waited a few seconds, but nothing hapoened. Maybe he was doing it wrong, so he flipped his hand around and used the back of his hand. Still nothing. He had no idea what he was doing or even what this is for so he just lowered his arm, to his side. She didn't know that though.

So he offered a sympathetic smile. "The magic forehead spirit" that sounded reasonable enough, "has spoken and says you are sick and that you need to go inside and stay put where I can see you....otherwise you get the plague." Problem solved. Now she can't get mad at him for keeping an eye on her.
 
She didn't like this. Not in the least bit. He was just sitting there, staring at her, and even though she wasn't directly looking at him, Myla could tell that he was still concerned, but over what? She had said that she was fine and that she wasn't sick, that she was feeling fine and that there was nothing to worry about. There was nothing to worry about, right? That thought got her worried. What if he knew something that she didn't? What if the meat that she had eaten, that she thought were the good pieces, were actually bad and possibly could get her sick?

She swallowed, putting a hand on her stomach but she shook her head. No, she couldn't start thinking that. If she thought it well enough, then she actually would feel sick. She dropped her hand then, determined not to think that. If something had been wrong with the meat, she was more than positive hat he would have said something by now.

But when he moved closer to her, resting his hand against her forehead, Myla stiffened again, moving her head back a little, though it seemed to do nothing given how he have removed his hand shortly after. Now she actually turned to look at him, furrowing her brows in his direction as she gave him a skeptical gaze. What... His words made her stop, the furrowed brows and skeptical gaze dropping, bringing about a look of disbelief to the woman. This dragon really was odd.

And she couldn't help it. A laugh belted from her stomach, though she willed it not to, but, again, she couldn't help it. His notion had been so ridiculous that it was hilarious! "Do you always create fabled things when not knowing what to do?" She asked, fits of little laughter spouting here and there before she made herself stop, wiping her eyes of the stray tears that collected there. She continued to look at him, giving him a smile, almost without her telling herself to do that. She didn't want to smile at him, she didn't want to laugh and enjoy the things that he had said. No, she wanted to hate him, she wanted to yell at him and scream at him, yet she couldn't help it.

"I told you before, I am fine. Trust me." She stopped at those words. Trust me? She shook her head, the smile dropping, as well as any amusement that had surfaced previously. "Actually, do not trust me. Just... Believe what I say. I am not sick, and I do not have a fever, which is what us humans test to see by placing the back of their hands on foreheads." She only assume that that was what he was doing, though had no idea as to why or what it meant. Hopefully that would clear things up.
 
Amara raised a brow when she started laughing, presumably at him. He took that as his guess that there were magic forehead spirits was a little off the mark and her words about creating fables confirmed it. And that made him smile.

"I know what I'm doing! Sort of. Kind of. Vaugely." He defended, laughing. Before he decided to explain. "I'm a dragon. Scary. Growl, growl, rawr! As long as I say things like I'm serious, I assume that people will just go with it...or at least not laugh at me." He said that last part in mock accusation, but he really didn't care. His reputation would suffer from this, but Myla's laughter had been contagious and he was having fun. He wasn't sure why because he should be angry about the slight...but he supposed it was because he was beginning to be attached to her company.

And that should be a bad thing. Humans don't live long, and apart from dragon-human friendships being unheard of, he would be alone again once she was gone. But after being alone for so long...companionship fora little while was better than nothing....maybe that was why he decided to keep her (at least on some unconscious level) in the first place.

With that conclusion, his grin grew wider. He liked the idea, and the words trust me made him even more excited. But them being quickly recanted and a change of attitude made his grin and confused him. There was no reason why he shouldn't--unless she was lying about being fine and he only hoped that wasn't the case. So he shrugged the words off. He will take her word for it instead (even though it was the exact same thing as trusting her, but he would mot be the one to tell her that).

And in attempt to lighten the mood again, he shook his head and joked, "You just say that because the forehead spirit has never spoken to you." He then tilted his head and shivered a bit, with the dropping sun he was starting to get cold, but he had no intention of leaving her just incase. "Let's go back inside."
 
A scary dragon? Myla was beginning to doubt that, especially when he said that all he did was growl and roar at others. While she might have believed that before, she didn't now, or at least not to the extent to which she had believed it before. He could smile, he could be calm, and he could be angry, just like a human. Emotions, he had actual emotions, and the more and more she was beginning to realize that, the more scary that this situation was becoming to her. Emotions could link people and things together, and she did not want to be linked with him. Not now, not ever.

But it just seemed to easy with him. Never had she really had conversations, or at least conversations with as much ease as she did with Amara, with the villagers. They told her to stay in her place. They oppressed her. Being here... Was so much easier, like right now. How she didn't think it was right to speak with him, yet she was, and with such ease. And she liked it, but she didn't know why.

"I highly doubt that," she spoke, looking back out over the horizon. "But I only laugh because you say ridiculous things. Besides, humans can easily be scared, no matter how strong they think they are, especially in the face of dragons. You easily intimidate us, no matter what."

She looked at him when she felt the dragon shudder, a chill running down her spine as well. It sent goosebumps down her arms, but she ignored the cold feeling and shook her head. "I may no nothing of your kind, but while you all may believe in the forehead spirit, if you actually do, we humans do not." Turning back to look at the setting sun she sighed. She couldn't go back in the cave. Not yet anyway, and not with him. Being in there almost felt cramped, and while she wouldn't go anywhere, just standing here, out in the open, was enough for her. "You can go inside. I will stay out here for a little while longer."
 
Amara blinked...she was not still scared of him, right? She said no matter what, but she had laughed at him, yelled at him, told him to trust her. Those were not action of fear. She couldn't be that frightened of him. Well she should be, and he shoukd want her to be. But thought that she could bewas bothered him. A lot. It put a gnawing pit in his stomach and made him confortable. Couldn't she see he was all bark with no bite?

He sighed. He didn't like this and he didn't like that he didn't like it. But he couldn't do anything about it. Everytime he trued to be nice and not scary it misunderstood and she even just misunderstood the joke just now. "I was joking. Dragons don't believe in forehead spirits. They don't talk to us, I was just trying to get you to laugh again...you got serious all the sudden. Laughter is better." He shrugged, and looked to the ground. He was not good at this kind of thing...whatever this thing was and he felt awkward.

Escaping to his treasure room sounded good at the moment, but he wasn't about to leave her out alone in the cold. He had to watch her, just in case. He glanced at her again. She was shivering, and didn't look like she was going to be convinced to leave. He bit his lip, making a decision."I'll wait." He said softly, before shivering again.

He took a step back and he knew he was probably going to regret this, but he shifted to his true form. He knew his true form was in the scares human department, and he had just decided he didn't want to scare Myla...but he was cold.

In the least frightening way he possibly could he curled up on the ground before he carefully breathed a controlled breath of fire right in front of him, warming a some of air around him. If Myla wanted to remain out here, he going to watch her. The cold was not about to drive him away.
 
She snorted, but nevertheless a little smile crossed her lips as she listened to him. She figured that what he had said about a forehead fairy hadn't been true, though if that had actually been true she wouldn't have been that surprised. "I am not completely aware of your customs, so hearing about a forehead spirit is something that I figured you would believed in. But... Apparently you are just more creative than I thought." And she liked that, despite how her mind told her to stop these thoughts. He was amusing without meaning to be, and laughter... "Yes, laughter is better, I suppose."

Of course Myla knew that laughter was so much greater then being serious, but growing up the way she had, she had hardly had things to laugh about. So this was definitely different.

She was surprised when Amara didn't get up and leave when she said that she would stay out here. She figured that with him being cold, he would just escape into the confinement of his cave, but yet again he had surprised her. She was beginning to get less and less surprised by him surprising her. But she would be a lie to say that she didn't want him to be there, yet she would also be a lie to say that she didn't want to be alone either. But which was better, having his company or not? Either way she figured that she wouldn't get away from him, and while that irked her greatly, she wouldn't complain about it. 'I'm getting soft with him,' she thought, looking down.

When Amara shifted into his dragon, or true form, she took a step sideways, a sense of nervousness overtaking her as she looked at the form. It was one of those things that she couldn't help, but when he blew out the fire from his mouth, the warmth radiating around the air, she couldn't help but step closer to him, if only to get to the heat. It felt good. "I am assuming that this means you will be staying out here as well, no?" She rose her brows as she looked at him, no hint of irritation or anything in her voice. Just curiousness.
 
Amara stared at her. He had just said he was going to wait and he meant it. Maybe she was confused because he switched forms. Did she think his mind changed a bit when he changed? She just admited she didn't know dragon customs (which he extended to not knowing much about dragons) so it wouldn't be outlandish to think sonething like that. His appearance, after all, differed greatly to think his mind would also differ wouldn't be too big a leap in logic.

He supposed that didn't matter at the moment because he couldn't exactly explain that his mibd was the same like this. And he couldn't bother shifting back to his human form again, especially because Myla didn't appear overly frightened.He could sense some nervousness, but it wasn't terror...and she was actually approaching him. That was a good sign.

So he slowly blinked his eyes before slightly inclining his head in a yes. He was staying, and staying like this. Especially because in his few moments if staring the air was beginning to cool again.

With an annoyed huff, he pointed his head to straight up to the sky and this time let out a much larger breath of fire that he held until the air around him was almost uncomfortably warm. The heat would hopefully last a little longer this way.

Finished with that, he lowered his head completely to the ground and offered as close as to friendly smile he could make. Which was mostly lifting his lips and showing his teeth and probably looked a little more scary then friendly--but the rest of his posture (laying down on his belly with most of his body curled up) was not one if threat. So, to reinforce that he didn't want to hurt her he took ine of his claws and patted to ground by his head three times, and purposefully glanced between Myla and the spot. An invintation into his personal space and a bit closer to the center of the air's warmth.
 
Feeling uncomfortable with the dragon continuing to stare at her, Myla looked away, a light blush coming across her cheeks. Luckily for her, with the setting sun closing off most of the light of the day, her blush was hidden under the darkness. But, just in case, since she wasn't sure if dragons could properly see in the night, she turned her head to look away, irritated with her own self for letting this beast, no dragon, get under her skin. Why? Why was she letting him bother her so much? Before, when she was first brought here just the other day, she would have never imagined them doing this; sitting on the edge of his cliff, having had conversations with each other.

Before, she had prepared herself for death, just knowing that he would kill her. Just knowing that he would be evil. But he wasn't, and that was what irritated her all the more. He wasn't what she thought him to be. He wasn't what she had always believed...

Again she sighed, though this sounding a bit more irritated than anything, but when she felt the little movement from the dragon, she looked to see him lifting his head into the air, taking a huff of breath before he let out even more fire. Quickly the air warmed around them, and though it could a little hot, she wasn't complaining about it. It felt good, and as she continued to look at the flames, she couldn't help but be captivated by it. The flames flicking back and forth, bringing light to the area before it disappeared, leaving behind only its heat. It was a wonder that he was able to do that; that dragons were able to to do things that they were able to. To breath fire, though she was not sure if all were able to, and to fly and change themselves to look like humans, though, again, she wasn't sure if every dragon was like that. What else could they, or he, do?

When he smiled at her, Myla didn't know how to take the action. His large teeth made her even more apprehensive about the situation, though she figured he meant no harm by the action, but still. To think that those teeth have probably ripped apart many things... A shiver was sent down her spine at the thought, and as she continued to watch Amara's actions, she shook her head. If his gesture meant that he wanted her to sit closer to him, she had to deny it. "No, I am fine just standing right here," she insisted.
 
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