[canis,]

This Speed Stinger managed to escape the grasps of the hunters, though not without a price. It appears to have lost chunks of its frill, making running at top speed difficult. It has also become weary of humans.

Rider; Fivebrand
Name; Dust
Gender; Male
Species; Speed Stinger

Have all tasks been completed?; Yes

[Hellagia]

Name; Finsol
Gender; Male

(Incomplete/Complete*) Task #1 - Meeting and attempted contact.
(Incomplete/Complete*) Task #2 - Successful contact and bonding.
(Incomplete/Complete*) Task #3 - Acceptance and unification.
* awaiting approval
(Must put this here before I am pulled away from my computer again. I'm thinking, I promise!)

Rider: Dust
Rider gender: Male
Rider personality: Skeptical but persistent, tends to be a bit of a loner where vikings are concerned.
Rider description: Dust is a taller Viking man with remarkably no facial hair - though not for a lack of trying, it seems he just can't get himself a full beard ... or any facial hair. His hair is darker than blond, almost orange in colour, with light brown eyes.

[Hellagia]

Dust was naturally skeptical. During the peace with dragons, he had witnessed many Vikings that still held deep hatred, cleaving innocent dragons without cause, imprisoning many for selfish reasons. That is what drew him to the sanctuary. He had heard of abused dragons and felt the urge to make sure they weren't taken advantage. He found a decent clearing near a river and set up camp, tending to his fishing net as he peered skeptically at some of the other Vikings from his tent. Once his net was repaired, he left his camp to ascend a small hill for a better vantage point. Hours passed as he watched various Vikings, in both a precaution to protect any dragons, but also in a vain hope to restore his faith in Vikings.
His negative vibes ended up driving most of the dragons away, which he didn't notice at first due to his fixation on the Vikings below. As the day passed, he began to notice how most of the sensitive beasts responded to his negative attitude, staying carefully away, yet he couldn't blame them. An uneventful day of Viking-watching passed and he returned to his tent. It would be nearly midday the next day before he finally encountered a dragon. He had returned to the ledge to watch, though his mood had lifted considerably since the last day, witnessing the kindness and patience the Vikings showed the abused dragons. It was during his moment of high spirits that he caught a glimpse of motion out of the corner of his eye.
A speedstinger with ragged fins and dark colours paced near the edge of the hill, hard gaze overlooking all the human "invaders" to this sanctuary, making a few angry chortles to itself.
Dust watched it out of the corner of his eyes for a few moments, before redirecting his attention to the Vikings. "They're not as bad as we think," he admitted, just as much to himself as to the speedstinger, standing slowly and brushing his trousers off. "But I can't blame you at all."
The speedstinger jerked its attention to Dust, growling.
"Yea, I know," he said softly, trying to approach with his gaze down, only to startle the dragon into a rapid retreat. He shrugged as he turned his gaze back over the hill. "I wouldn't trust me if I were you either." He sat back down, taking another chance to try to scoot a little closer, only for the dragon to dart further away.
"Not that you care, or understand for that matter, but ... I'm called Dust."
The stinger stayed a distance away, but seemed to calm with Dust falling still, even its pacing came to a halt. The two spent the rest of the afternoon watching the humans below, both falling silent as they judged each other's company. The dragon nervous and wary, the Viking intrigued but respectful.
The only move that was made was when the sun began to set. Dust stood with a grunt, stiffened from sitting still for so long, startling the stinger to try to jump back.
"No, no, it's okay," he assured the dragon, heading down the hill, "I'm leaving, I won't hurt you."
The stinger made a dash for the trees, untrusting of the Viking. Dust paused as he noticed how the torn fin seemed to impede control at faster speeds. His brow knit in concern as he made his way back to his camp, making a mental note to move slowly so the stinger wouldn't feel the need to rush away again.

[Hellagia]

Dust took to fishing in the morning, catching enough for him to eat, then two extra. After a late breakfast, he would head up the hill, approaching the trees to leave one fish for when the stinger would wake up - how this particular speedstinger woke so early was a mystery to him - then walking several yards away and waiting. He still watched other pairs, but it wasn't his main focus anymore.
Each day, the speedstinger would follow its nose to the offering by the trees, eat it, then go about pacing and watching the human "invaders," including that orange haired, bare faced weirdo that sat closer than the rest.
Each day, just as the sun was about to set, Dust would stand, leaving the second fish where he had been sitting, and make his way back to camp.
At first, he didn't witness the speedstinger take the fish, but each day that passed, he saw progress as the stinger waited less time before retrieving the offering.
The seventh day of his stay at the sanctuary began as the day before. He ate his breakfast and caught the extra fish, before making his way up the hill. As he approached the trees to leave his first offering, he could've sworn he saw a shadow move in the forest. He placed the fish down, then strode away to the seating area he claimed. Once he settled down, he placed the fish beside him and glanced towards the trees. To his surprise, the dark form of the ragged speedstinger was already upon the fish.
He looked over the sanctuary, speaking softly, "you're up earlier than usual."
The dragon paced again, but this time, it's entire attention was on the bare-faced Viking.
Dust almost didn't notice at first, until the unmistakable boring feeling saturated him. He glanced over, gaze locking with the blue eyes. He paused before opening his mouth. "You know, all this time and I've not even considered a name for you."
The speedstinger eyed him warily.
He took a slow, but deliberate, scoot away from the fish. "You want that, huh?"
The dragon ceased pacing to stare at the human and the fish.
Dust carefully made another scoot away, now putting a meter's space between him and the fish. "I'm not even sure if you care about names, but I keep thinking Finsol."
Those blue eyes fixed on Dust, an inquisitive chirr questioning him.
Dust looked directly at the dragon, surprised at the response. "You like that? Finsol?"
He chirred again, head tilting.
Dust smiled, bringing his gaze back to the front, not really watching anything, though his eyes focused on a bonding pair. "Then it's settled."
The dragon, Finsol, took advantage of Dust's distraction, edging closer to snag the fish.
Dust smiled, turning to admire the speedstinger now that it was closer. "Your markings are very handsome."
Finsol gulped down the fish, forked tongue flicking out to lick a few stray scales off his nose. He fixed Dust with his gaze, taking a timid half-step forward.
Dust smiled softly, lowering his gaze and lifting his hand.
Finsol hesitated. He'd seem many hands like this before, many that had hurt him, but this one? This wasn't like those hands. He carefully craned his head out to sniff the fingers, before barely touching the fingers, rigid and ready to bolt if need be.
Dust barely even moved his fingers, quiet and patient.
Finsol reached out until his nose was firmly in the calloused palm, watching as Dust remained still, before closing its eyes, pausing for the barest of seconds before backing away a step, watching Dust warily.
Dust only moved when he withdrew, and even slower than he had before, bringing his gaze up to meet the dragon's. "Thank you," he whispered softly.
Finsol hesitated as he took another uncertain step back.
Dust directed his gaze down the hill to his campsite. "I will have to bring more fish tomorrow, won't I?"
Satisfied the Viking wasn't going to push for anything else, Finsol relaxed, as much as he could anyway.

[Hellagia]

As the days stretched on, Dust began spending less time pretending to watch people and more time just visiting with Finsol. He continued his habit of bringing fish, more than two by now, and Finsol would brave his company for the treats. The speedstinger was still nervous, even after the volunteered touch, but Dust didn't push to get closer, only talk, and often times about the most mundane things.
The most surprising thing to the Viking was how Finsol seemed to be listening, even moving to lie down and watch him with curious eyes.
"And that is why they named me Dust," he finished, watching the dragon.
Finsol tilted his head, the torn fin flopping slightly.
"Yea, I don't quite get it either, but I won't taunt superstition. Besides, I wouldn't know what name I'd choose if I did decide to change it." He leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand. "At least you don't have to worry about names." He paused, head tilting as his eyes scrunched in thought. "Or... Do dragons have names for each other?"
Rriii!
Dust couldn't help but widen his eyes. "That sounded like an affirmative. I wish I could ask you what your name really was."
Finsol let a soft snort, shaking his head as if trying to toss off a pest, fin flopping about as he did so.
"Hm," Dust watched the motion curiously. "I suppose Finsol will have to do. At least you don't seem to hate it."
The dragon stilled, watching Dust a few minutes before standing and stretching his legs, letting a satisfied grunt as he did so.
Dust looked up to see the sun already below the horizon, letting out a sigh. "I suppose I have spent too long today. See you tomorrow, then?"
Finsol silently tilted its head, straightening his posture as he watched Dust.
Dust made a smile, brushing himself off. "Tomorrow then, Finsol." He turned to head down the hill, careful now that the fading light tried to hide rocks and pits. He heard some rocks fall loose behind him. When he glanced back, he saw Finsol at the top of the incline, watching him. He smiled to the darker dragon, then continued on his way.
It was nearly completely dark by the time he got to his campsite, so he started a fire to work by as he began his nightly routine. He ate the last of that day's fish, then used the light of the fire to work on repairs to his net. He almost didn't see the form watching him from the shadows until he heard an angry hiss. He froze, slowly turning to see the blue eyes shimmering in the firelight. "Finsol? Did you ... Follow me?"
The muzzle, nearly invisible in the night, snarled to reveal the white teeth, gaze fixed angrily on the net.
"Oh, this? This is how I catch fish." He lifted it to show to the dragon, only for Finsol to recoil. "No, no," he said softly, "let me show you." He slowly stood, taking careful strides to the riverbank, Finsol bristling behind him. He moved carefully, trying not to startle Finsol any more than he already had, holding into the lead with one hand and tossing it out in a fanning arc with the other, pulling it back in once the net sank. To his surprise, a fish managed to be snagged despite his blind toss. He untangled the fish and showed it to Finsol.
The speedstinger was still angry, but seemed curious now. Gaze darting between looking at the fish hungrily and glaring at the net distrustfully.
"See?" He put the fish down and took a step back, but Finsol was still fixated on the net, too skittish to approach now.
Dust carefully lifted the net, "Look, it can't even hold you." He unfurled it to show it barely had the size to hold him. "Not to mention my net-work leaves much to be desired. See?" He gave the net a hard tug, several of the strands snapping and springing apart as a hole opened. "You could tear through this with ease." He further proved his point by tearing the net nearly in half, doing more damage to it than a month's worth of fishing. "I promise, it won't hurt you."
Finsol didn't seem too convinced.
In a moment of desperate goofiness, he took the torn net and draped it over his head, grinning sheepishly at Finsol. "It barely holds me, how can it hold you?"
The self-entrapment seemed to confuse Finsol, who hesitantly approached the tangled mess of net on Viking, sniffing tentatively.
Dust pulled the net off, previous repairs popping undone in the process. "See? It can't hold me. There's no way this net could hold your speedy legs." He smiled at Finsol.
The dragon snorted before accepting this explanation by turning his gaze on the fish.
Dust lifted the fish to offer to the speedstinger. "Good. Now I'm gonna have to fix this if you want fish tomorrow." He returned to his place by the fire, sitting to go about weaving and tying most of the net back together.
His work was interrupted by a most unpleasant horking sound, and he looked up just in time to see Finsol deposit half the fish into his lap.
"Oh," it was disgusted at first, before he remembered what dragon riders said about dragons sharing. "Oh!" This one was surprised. "Oh, yes, thank you, Finsol!" He smiled, accepting the token, no matter how gross, doing his best to partake of it. He managed a couple bites before he just couldn't stomach the thought, then went back to repairing his net. However, he only managed an hour's work before exhaustion took hold and he fell asleep under the stars, next to a dying fire and a wary dragon.
When the sun rose, the full force of its light made the Viking stir. He wasn't in his tent like usual. He opened his eyes to see black and red scales directly in front of him. His head jerked back involuntarily, hands still clutching the broken net.
That's when he saw the blue, torn frill and the matching gaze swing into view.
Finsol had curled right beside him during the night, and now looked at him as he woke up.
Dust had to spend a few minutes before he could realize he wasn't dreaming and Finsol really was right there. He smiled, untangling one hand from the net to carefully rub the head gazing at him. "Hello, Finsol. Should I finish repairs so we can have breakfast?"
Finsol chirred, nuzzling the hand.