by caf. » Fri Feb 12, 2016 12:08 am
Rider; Caffara Ovalle
Name; Archer
Gender; male
Species; timberjack
Taming Entry; (edited w/ new word count rule)
The hunt was on! I’d seen a wayward Timberjack flying unsteadily towards the mountains last night while I was cleaning up the barn, and I fully intended to find and capture it as soon as possible. I love Timberjacks, personally; when I was younger, one was shipped from Berk to my homeland as a sort of experiment, to see whether dragons would survive outside of the hospitality of the archipelago. He was a magnificent creature, steel grey and shimmering in the sun; I remember being fascinated watching him stride off of the boat. Unfortunately, due to less-than-desirable shipping conditions, the poor thing sickened with pneumonia and died within days, and since he was so expensive in the first place the dragon trade between my home and Berk ceased. I’d always wanted to find another Timberjack, though, and now I might have a chance!
I’d been training Ink under a borrowed saddle and bridle, and figured he’d be ready for this expedition. After all, we were just going to fly to the mountains, and then I’d tie him and scout around on foot. I didn’t want to approach the creature with another dragon; knowing that Timberjacks could be shy, I didn’t want to scare him off.
Ink seemed to sense my excitement as I tacked him up; he wiggled and jigged in the ties, chittering happily. I chuckled and gave him a pat before boosting myself up. The saddle (borrowed from a kind neighbor) felt electrifying; my bag was packed full with everything I could possibly need; my dragon was full of energy; we were ready.
The flight went by much faster than I expected; I don’t give my Nadder enough credit for being fast. Soon enough he was lowering us down into the crags, allowing me to scan for any signs of the giant-winged beast I was in search of. At first, I saw nothing; the tracks of a Changewing, a few leftover barbs from a Nadder fight, even some residual amber from a Death Song. Now I started to worry; what if the beast was hurt? What if it’d dug himself into a cave? What if it’d died? What if it wasn’t even here? What if it wasn’t a Timberjack at all?
There, down below - the displaced dirt signature of a creature with a huge wingspan! It could be just a Monstrous Nightmare, I reminded myself, or a Typhoomerang. My heart pounded, though. Even Ink seemed to shake with excitement as I guided him down to earth. I slid off his back softly, glancing around. We stood in a small clearing, a small path threading through a few boulders just out of sight. The dirt here had clearly been disturbed by the beating of massive wings; something had been here, and evidently not long ago.
I turned to Ink then, laying a hand on his nose and using the other to take his reins.
“You’ve gotta stay here, buddy. I’m going in alone,” I said, winding the reins around the stalk of a scrubby tree. I knew that if he wanted to escape he would; it was more of a symbol to him, telling him that he was supposed to stay right here. Ink chittered nervously before trustingly pushing his nose into my hand.
Picking my way over the path, I kept a sharp eye out for any crevice or cave a dragon could’ve crawled into. Not too far down the path was a small opening, a black pit easily big enough to accommodate a sizable dragon. I drew out my shield and strode forward, peering down into the darkness to see if I could catch the glint of a large eye.
Finally, I lowered myself in, slowly and ever-so-carefully. Every one of my movements was hackneyed and at half-speed. I turned gently, striding forward and straining to see into the corners of the cave.
I can’t describe to you the glory of the creature in front of me. He was sitting, wings folded neatly at his chest, almost as though he’d been waiting for me. Tall, lanky, and gorgeous, the creature was splashed in white, wings shimmering blue with decorative gold-and-white patterning on the delicate, fluttering edges. His long snout hung still in the stuffy cave air, seeming too regal for such a dark, dank place.
We stared at each other for what seemed like hours, calculating our next moves. I kept my eyes firmly on his as I reached for my bag, agonizingly slow. In the most delicate fashion I could manage, I pulled a large hunk of ham out and placed it in front of me, pushing it towards him encouragingly. I would not lose this dragon.
He leaned down to take it gently in his jaws, and only then did I hear the wheeze. This dragon was sick; he’d come here to heal. Nervously, I began to approach him, directing my eyes to my feet to seem non-threatening, a rope hanging limply at my side. He didn’t make any movement, seeming wary but not afraid.
“Hey, bud,” I murmured, carefully lifting a hand and stretching it out into the heavy air.
“Want to come home with me?”
The seconds ticked by, my hope falling with each one. C’mon, I thought, be brave for me.
A gentle nose pressed into my palm.
Of course, I couldn’t take him home tonight, not with his condition. As a result, I broug Ink to the cave’s mouth and tied him at the entrance so as to keep him from falling ill. After erecting a small pile of brush for a fire, I brought a sizable stick out to see if I could made my Nadder useful.
“...flame?” I asked dumbly, holding the wood out for him. He stared at me curiously. I realized he’d have to be angry in order to give me what I wanted.
Tap! Tap! Tap! I began to hit him lightly on the nose, hoping the irritating sensation would be enough to annoy him into striking. I saw the blue color rising in his mouth and braced myself, holding the stick out far to my side.
Wham! A massive magnesium blast slammed into the rocks high above my head. I looked up at the impact sight before looking back at the blue boy, a little dumbfounded.
“What...what was that?”
Sighing, I went inside, dropping the stick with a measure of defeat into the pile. Turning, I stripped off my jacket, shuddering at the cold but realizing I’d get sick myself with how sweaty I was getting.
Whoosh!
Whipping around, I was fully shocked to see the woodpile burning steadily. The Timberjack sat there curiously, looking at me for approval. I sat down, awed.
“Smart, boy, huh?”
After that, the night went by fairly easily. I cooked some food for myself and fed both dragons generously. When I came back after saying goodnight to Ink, I found the Timberjack sleeping peacefully by the fire, stretched out comfortably. I stood in front of him, examining him in the light to try and find a proper name. The spots on his wings looked like little island in the middle of a sea, an archipelago, if you will. Archie didn’t seem right...Archer?
I tested the name, calling to him softly. He lifted his head, gorgeous eyes studying me. I saw a glint of approval before he laid his head down again, contented and calm. Never once had he seemed afraid of me.
Archer, like an arrow, regal and gallant. It was perfect.
By morning I knew my supplies wouldn’t last any longer. We had to go home. I fed both dragons and ate a quick meal of dry biscuits before walking out of the cave, luring Archer with scraps of meat. Nervously, I tacked up Ink once more, wondering if Archer would follow us.
My worries were put to rest as soon as we took to the sky. Even with his cough and wheeze, the Timberjack followed us at a steady pace. I threw scraps back to him as encouragement. Occasionally he would fall behind, but he always caught up, eagerly watching my pocket for another treat. Ink didn’t seem to mind at all, simply flying straight and true. I must say, I was proud of him; not once had he acted out the entire trip!
As we began our descent, I watched Archer to make sure he landed safely. He looked alright, if not a little distracted. However, right as Ink’s feet hit the ground, he turned sharply, shot upwards, and fled.
I didn’t move for several seconds, wondering if my eyes had deceived me. After all that work, had Archer really gone? It stung even worse than the losses of other dragons; my own childhood dream had turned tail and run right before my very eyes.
I untacked Ink solemnly, knowing my bad mood confused him. He probably wondered how I could be so down after such a great adventure. I made sure to pet him and give him plentiful food before I put him away; he had done nothing wrong.
I lumbered back to the house, wanting nothing more than to just sleep it off. I was about to do just that when I heard a heavy sound behind me. The dirt under my feet stirred.
I turned around and there he was; Archer, in his massive glory. He looked somewhat sheepish but very grateful when I offered him a treat. I pinched myself, admittedly, unsure if this was really true.
“You came back,” I whispered. He grunted a low sound, pushing his nose into me eagerly. Maybe because I came to him in a time of weakness, maybe because I had food, maybe because he just liked me, the Timberjack had returned.
“Good boy,” I praised, rubbing his head thoroughly. I don’t know what kind of dragon he’ll turn out to be, but something tells me it’s going to be quite an adventure.
Last edited by
caf. on Tue Feb 16, 2016 4:36 am, edited 9 times in total.
caf - they/them - bi
equestrian - vocalist - student
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RVEC nowadays, though i
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