It returned to the ground, producing another gust - Moth held her ground this time. She stared at the thing for a few moments, waiting, thinking, just a little. He wanted to...talk. Yes. So did she. He wouldn't eat her if she talked, right? Maybe. Enough. He was strange, and much bigger than her, and made heat like the hot water and her hot skin and before she knew it she was walking right up to him. She stared up at the scaly thing, a few feet away, and took a gooooood, looooong,
sniff. He smelled like the hot air, but her charred scent lingered and clouded whatever else she could hope to smell.
"You smell," she said, taking another long sniff to try again. The result was the same. Charred skin and fur and smoke and steam and heat.
"Big smell." she wrinkled her nose and sat back on her haunches. She shook her head, but to no avail - the scent would not part from her nostrils. She exhaled, deeply, but something about the smoke was thick and
stuck.
@Dread
Moth had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. In fact, she hardly understood the strings of sounds he had fumbled together, or it sounded fumbling to her -
she couldn't tell - and all she got out of it was the sense that these were questions. Requests, of a sort. They required a response. She did not know how to respond. She said:
"I don't know. Do you like...?" and that was as far as she got, by memory, not understanding these words in their entirety and certainly not the rest of either question. Perhaps it would tell her; it licked its lips, she shuddered, every one of its movements seemed predatory. Maybe it was asking if she wanted to be eaten.
No! Obviously not. If she could just
figure out what it was trying to ask, she would say what she thought, for sure! She did
not want to be eaten!
"No!" she yipped, the syllable slipping involuntarily from her maw, as a child's words were prone to do.
@Dread
The hyena cub flinched and stumbled backwards as the warm thing leapt into the air, fear having shot through her system once more. Instead of attacking her, as Moth's instincts suspected, he flew away, circling over the water briefly before diving down, returning with a tiny silver animal, flailing, alive. Alive as he ripped it to shreds, scarfing down pink pieces. As one might an afterthought, he threw her a portionof half-mutilated fish. He screeched at her. That sound again - that word.
Fish. She knew it now, she supposed, but was not yet impressed. Cautiously, Moth shuffled up to the bloody flesh, dipping her head down to sniff it. Violently she threw her head back, nearly losing her balance again with the force of it. Though fresh, its salts and oils permeated her nose - no, her whole
snout - and it offended every sense she could name (of which there were fewer than five). Passionately she rejected the item, grabbing it between her jaws and flinging it away, inadvertently in the scaly creature's direction. It was a wrong move; the taste now filled her mouth, horrid and ill-suited to her body.
"NO!" she spat, face scrunched, tongue out.
@Dread
The scaly creature gulped down the chunk of fish. The taste lingered - but the stranger was gone, darted behind a bush, suddenly. Moth stared after him, momentarily confused. Was something back there? Something...cool? Refusing to be left out, she yipped, spurring into motion, clumsily galloping after him. Moth tripped once on the way but recovered quickly. She was determined, even if in the few feet between her and the creature she'd managed to fall. Her eye did not catch up as quickly as her legs, and so, she thundered straight into the bush, coming through the other side by sheer momentum, possibly crashing into the scaly beast. It did not deter her curiousity. She would jump to her feet, then, still reeling, and look at him excitedly, one ear flipped inside-out, tongue lolled.
@Dread
Moth scampered after the dragon, yipping, stumbling to a stop when he froze. By size alone - nevermind speed - he would quickly overtake her. He was bigger, faster, and covered more ground quicker than Moth expected (but then again, how could she be a judge of these things? she was merely a baby, newly-hatched.) Though she was running - as best she could - and playful, yes, certainly, an competitiveness edged its way between the tripping and the bounding. In a surprisingly fluid move, she skidded to a halt, pausing not a moment before dashing in the direction of the creature, squeaking loudly.
"I'll get you!" she squealed.
@Dread
As the hyena cub raced to and fro, a stray rat--hidden in the nearby bushes--panicked. It bolted straight across her path, over her line of sight, leaping over the loose stones.
It could be caught, perhaps--or ignored.
@Dread @Moth
