Metal Scales

==Intro==
Goldclaw had become very acustomed to the art of time. Patiently waiting, counting down the days, accepting failure where it was and moving past it to wait and count again. 
To failure, Goldclaw was no stranger. 28 eggs laid, 25 all nothing but worthless rot. The error was not in her mind. She had done everything to ensure that her errors were not in her methods. She carefully, immaculately counted the days, after rigorously testing the time taken with stolen rainwing eggs. 
Wherever those rainwings were now, she couldn't care. 
Tonight was another one of those nights. The nights where she could barely contain her own excitement, and yet, was almost too scared to check. A glimmer of hope against an unrelenting tide of failure swelled and sloshed around in her head. 
She gently stepped up to the wooden crate, gingerly lifting the lid off of it. Inside, three deep-grey eggs rested in a bed of soft straw, turned a raw umber from the torchlight. She reached in, gingerly picking up one of the eggs with her scaled talon. She didn't dare risk the integrity of her eggs with her gold scales. Even if it was only surface-level, any risk was one she would not take. 
Gingerly placing the egg on the soft pillow, she gently lowered one ear to it, until she could feel the cold from the shell against her ear. Biting her tounge, Goldclaw held her breath. Waiting. But she could hear nothing but the subtle shifting of her own body. Sighing, she picked up the egg with her golden talon, and tossed it to the bottom of the stairs below her. It shattered, and, true to her ears, there was nothing inside but the translucent whites and the yellowish yolk. No sign of any dragonet life inside. Dead, dead as the other 25 were. 
The next egg was no different. The silence, the yellowish nothing inside of it's worthless shell. But still, patience was her friend and failure could no longer shake her. Goldclaw gently picked up the final egg, set it on the pillow, and held an ear up to it. At first, she couldn't pick out anything. Just the ambience she had become acustomed to. 
But something was off. There seemed to be something, emerging from the ambience. It couldn't be-
Goldclaw couldn't be sure if it was her own heart thumping away in her chest. She wanted to reach inside and rip it out, so that she may hear the beating heart of her dragonet. Her dragonet. There was no mistaking it now. There was a dragonet, her dragonet, inside the egg, alive, with it's beating heart. 
To failure, Goldclaw was no stranger. But sucess was an abyss, a deep well of the unknown. The shivering sensations, the urge to jump and shout and celebrate for such a wonderful feeling, and the sinking fear of the fragility of this sucess were unfamiliar territory. She slowly backed away from her dragonet, the fear of crushing it, or knocking it over grasping at her head. She immediatly pulled at her bag, pulling out the thick, padded leather glove she used to handle things, not trusting herself to put the egg back with one talon. Quickly pulling it on, Goldclaw gingerly picked up her egg, bringing it close to her chest, cradling it in her arms. She couldn't stop shaking, overwhelmed with terror and joy. 
Gingerly stepping to the crate, she ever so gently put the egg back, nestling it safely in the crate, still shaking as her talons pulled away from it. She lifted the lid of the crate, resting on the side of the box, and set it back, firmly pressing the lid in place, biting her lip and hoping she hadn't hit her egg. Goldclaw could barely sleep, not with the overwhelming emotions brimming inside her, but despite this overturning revalation, Goldclaw was still a leader. She still had tasks to complete, plans to form, and time to bide. She slowed her breathing, taking a few deep breaths in, and letting them out, waiting for her talons to stop shaking. Once they finally settled, she laid down, curling around the crate, and her dragonet inside. 
To failure, Goldclaw was no stranger. But sucess was within Goldclaw's talons, and she would fight to the bitter end to keep it that away. 
==Chapter I==
The last time that Silica had seen Paranoia this terrified must have been when she first met him. Some late, otherwise-meaningless night, she had found the tiny dragonet, maybe a week or two at the most, passed out in a river, out cold. It was strange finding an Icewing this far south, but Silica still brought him home. 
When he had woken up, the poor thing was so terrified, he had immediatly pinned himself to the wall and refused to move. The poor thing initially refused to eat anything Silica offered him. Not to mention talking with him went nowhere but blank, wide-eyed stares. It was even stranger that the little dragonet didn't seem like a regular Icewing. Some of his horns and scales appeared to be made of a coppery metal, scattered across his body like nightwing stars. 
All Silica could have done was to ignore the dragonet, hoping he warmed up to her. Thankfully, he did. She named him Paranoia, after that encounter. And now, he was living up to his name, pinning himself against the far wall of the cabin and staring at the door. 
"What's wrong, nugget?" Silica had been deboning her catches when Paranoia ran in. The haul was usual, the weather the same, the only outlier to this day was Paranoia. 
"Th-th-they-" Paranoia had slowly been growing more distant from Silica. That was fine by her, he was, after all, a growing dragonet with curiousities about the outside world. She wasn't sure of where he'd run off to, but as long as he returned home safely, she wouldn't mind where he went. 
"Take your time." Despite his name, Paranoia wasn't a very scardey dragon. Maybe it just his general distrust of other dragons, but he was obscenely curious about the natural world. When he was two, Silica had to save him from grabbing a dragonbite viper and trying to play with it. The blisters from his copper scales lasted weeks afterwards. She had to be very careful about his curiosity and inform him what was safe and what was not. 
"They-They found me!" 
Silica asked. She leaned back. looking outside the open door. Sure enough, four winged figures could be seen soaring through the blue sky. Silica hadn't known for a while, but Paranoia was valuable. Not for his endearing personality or blatant disregard of snakes, but for his copper scales. Turns out, yes, those were actually copper scales, scattered across hit body. Silica knew very little about what his scale condition was, but she knew what others did with those like him. She had heard rumors, market stories about strange, metallic dragons having their scales ripped from their bodies, or being burnt alive and leaving nothing but the valuables behind. That was likely what the dragons were here for. 
This was bad. Silica hadn't anticipated for Paranoia to be caught and be followed home. She hadn't prepared anything. Trap doors, easy cupboards to hide in, nothing to keep Paranoia safe. Silica quickly scanned her cabin, running over to the pile of furs and pillows she and Paranoia slept on. She folded them back, and tossed out a couple pillows from behind the rug.
She chirped at Paranoia, "Get over here." He complied, running over and jumping up behind the rug, and Silica set it over him, stating, "Stay here. Don't move until I tell you too. It will be alright." She carefuly stacked the pillows back on top of where he was. Silica looked behind her, at the open door. Surely it wouldn't be that much of a problem. She walked back over to her table, and picked up her tools, starting to carve again. 
Seconds later, four hulking sandwings landed at the foot of her door, blowing sand inside. Silica looked up, her gut sinking. Stay calm. They don't know you're hiding him. 
"May I help you?" she asked, leaning back to ask the one at the door. He was a brutish, massive figure, but his eyes darted across the room with a sharp and malicious intent. 
The dragon hissed, "Nothing much, ma'am. We're looking for a fugative." 
Stay calm. "A fugative? Well, as you can see, no fugatives here, no, no." She opened up a wing to show off her small hut. It had never been much, mostly covered with shelves, each full of her wood carvings. Some of Paranoia's, too, but she was pretty sure he didn't like it nearly as much as she did. 
The dragon stepped inside, barely squeezing past the door, and the second and third sandwings followed. They appeared to be the first's underlings, wearing similar pieces of armour, but far less flashy than the first's. The second one had a irked look, smoke pouring out of her nostrils. and a band covering her snout. The third was holding a pair of shackles, small enough for a dragonet. Surely enough, they had to be looking for Paranoia. 
Silica got up from her spot, and went up to the first dragon, staring up at him. "Hey! Who said you could just wander into my home uninvited?"
The first dragon stared down at her. "I did. My men are going to make sure you're not lying to us. It would be... unwise to do that." Silica swallowed, beads of sweat forming on her face. Calm down, calm down. They're not going find Paranoia. 
A small voice in her head chirped back, And what if they do-?
Then I'll bring down the moons if they so much put a grubby talon on him. 
The dragons were slowly making their way through Silica's little cabin. It didn't have any extra rooms, it was just the big one she had lived in since adulthood. The one with the shackles picked up a rough, disfigured carving of a cow, and held it up for the first one to see. The first one picked it up, looking at it for a minute, and turned back to Silica.
Growling, he asked, "Who made this?" He held out the little carving. Paranoia had been the one to make it, but they didn't know that. 
"Mine. I made that." she responded, forcing herself to slow her words down. 
"This doesn't look like your talonwork. This looks like an ametuer's." 
"I know. It's mine. From when I was younger. I kept the first carvings I made." She responded. It wasn't in her nature to lie, she had tried to always tell Paranoia the truth, but it was strange how easily the words slid from her tounge. She caught the smokey dragon, slowly making her way through the back of the cabin, reaching the pile of pillows. She bit her tounge, staring back at the first dragon, who had turned to put the carving back. The fourth was still standing outside.
Silica glanced back at the smokey dragon. She was stopped at a window, looking outside it. It was a large window, large enough for a full-grown dragon to squeeze through. 
"Why are you wearing those?" The burly dragon jabbed her foot, and she jumped back, grabbing. She had forgotten. Silica was wearing a pair of heavy leather gloves, with a bandage under one. They looked too heavy for a wood carver like herself. She had to hope they didn't know that.
"I... I wear them when I carve. It's to protect them from splinters." She held up one talon, removing the glove, showing a bunch of little scars she'd acquired from her work. There were some far older, far more faded scars from Paranoia, but she hoped he didn't notice. 
Instead, the Sandwing grabbed a loose end from her bandage, and tugged at it, trying to pull it loose. "Oh yeah? Then what's this for?" Silica almost fell over, just catching herself at the last minute.
She snarled, and pulled the bandage loose from his grasp. "I cut myself on my knife. Why do you care?" Silica started wrapping the bandage up, tucking it in. Glancing behind her, she could see that the smokey dragon had gotten to the pillows, and was now patting around them, as if feeling for something. Struggling with the sinking feeling in her gut, she slid her glove back on, slowly uncurling her tail, readying her barb. The brutish Sandwing hadn't noticed, and turned to talk to the first dragon.
She glanced back up at the first dragon, only to hear a shriek from behind her. It was Paranoia's, shrieking as the smokey dragon grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. The smokey dragon's talons slid onto one of his copper scales, before they made a muffled noise and dropped him onto the pillows. The brutish dragon turned around, saw Paranoia, and tried to push Silica away to get to him. 
But Silica was faster. She launched her tail, catching the side of the dragon's face, leaving a nasty gash from his chin to his neck. The first dragon saw what was happening, panicked, and dropped the shackles. Silica leaped at the smokey dragon, reaching for her barb. The smokey dragon turned on heels, and rammed into Silica head on. 
Silica clawed with the dragon for a second, before the dragon had worked their barb around, and caught Silica's leg. She had been scratched by sandwing venom before, when she was rather little, but that was nothing like this. It was if someone had got a white-hot stake and rammed it into the wound, wriggling it around painfully. She bit her tounge and reached up, grabbing the dragon's face and clawing downwards, hoping she'd got the eyes. 
The smokey dragon made a muffled cry, and Silica shoved her away. Paranoia was pinned against the wall, shaking like a leaf. Silica grabbed him by the neck and dragged him to the window. 
From behind her, she heard the brutish dragon yell, "Get them, Solar!" The smoky dragon reached up and grabbed their snout band, yanking it off. They unleased a torrent of fire from their jaws, slinging it everywhere. Everything caught on fire so quickly, her walls, her carvings, everything was ablaze within seconds. A thick cloud of smoke flooded her snout, and she broke out in a coughing fit. The wooden logs above her creaked uncertainly. 
Paranoia jumped out the window, and grabbed Silica's talons as she tried to climb out the window. She hit the ground, staggering to her feet. Paranoia turned and started to run away, hoping for Silica to catch up quickly. 
But she wasn't quick enough.
== Chapter 2 ==
Paranoia had started running, making a break for... he didn't know. Anywhere but here. 
A chilling, terrifying roar came from behind him. "I would stop running if I were you." Paranoia slid to a stop, sand building up under his feet. He turned to look behind him. The brutish sandwing was standing over Silica, holding her down. Paranoia swallowed. They had his mother! Not her!
The sandwing smiled. Another came around from the hut, holding a silver pair of chains. The first one stated. "That's better. You love your mother, right? You wouldn't want her to get hurt, would you?"
Mother grimaced from under the dragon's talons, trying to wriggle out of them. The dragon dug his claws deeper and called to Paranoia, "You want her to be happy, don't you? You want her to be well, right? Then come here." Paranoia swallowed, slowly stepping forwards. The large sandwing smiled, staring down at Paranoia. The one with the chains started to get closer to Paranoia, holding them out. His nerves started to crawl, each scale standing up on end. 
"Don't do anything irrational, little dragonet. Just come here, and your mother goes free. Alright?" Paranoia stepped even closer, practically crawling in his own scales. The first sandwing got closer and closer, holding out the chains, hungrily staring down at Paranoia. 
Mother managed to push the dragon's talon off her face and howled, "RUN PARANOIA, RUN! THEY'RE GOING TO KILL YOU!" The first dragon lunged forwards, trying to grab Paranoia and chain him up. Paranoia's nerves won over and he bolted, not caring where he was going or if he was being followed. The thunderous roar of the brutish dragon rose from behind him, tightening little Paranoia's throat, and he ran faster. He could feel the claws of the shackles dragon scratch his spines, the jangling of chains was right in his ears. 
"GET HIM! GET HIM YOU FOOL!" The sandy dragon seemed to stumble, the sound of their footsteps turning into a chaotic scuffle of tumbling and chains rattling. Sand flew up at his snout, and it burned hot under his paws. He kept running, starting to look around his surroundings. He passed many cacti and rocks, none good enough to hide behind. The air was strangely silent around him. He glanced up to see the dark shape of a dragon flying above him. Of course! They could fly. He had to hide, and hide fast. He had reached the river by his home, and scanned up and down the river for anything. 
There! On the far side of the river, an overhanging, covered in moss and splashed with water, jutted out from the rocky banks. He ran towards it, crouching down and wriggling as far back into the darkness as he could go. It stank of river muck and dead fish, but honestly, could he care less? 
The sandwing from earlier landed in the river with a splash, just as Para wriggled around far enough to see the light at the end of the cave. He couldn't see the sandwing there, it was far to bright, but he could just hear them walking around over the running of the water. "
"Where are you, little guy? Come on out, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you about your mother."
His mother. In his blind panic, Paranoia had almost forgotten. His mother. Was she okay? What had they done to her? Was he ever going to see her again?
Paranoia half considered running out again, willing accepting the chains if it meant he could see her again. But her words rang through his head. They're going to kill you. They're going to kill you. They're going to kill you. He decided to remain put, at least, for now, until they left. But the dragon didn't. They just stood there, patrolling the area. 
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Content (Chickendragon)