Ghis (closed)

Rissa retreated to her bedroom after her meeting with Qira. She enjoyed her solitude there, but it also made her lonely to think about the family that she had once had in that very same manor house. There was nothing she could do to bring them back, which made the memories even more painful.

With a long sigh, she curled up in her favorite chair over looking the front of the estate. She could see the fields beyond, nearly ready for the first harvest of the season. It was all hers, no matter if she wanted it or not.
 
Just as Rissa was readying for bed a while later, a hurried knock sounded on the door. The old estate keeper, George, was on the other side leaning on his cane, in his own night clothes and a hurriedly-donned robe. Just behind him was one of the nighttime stable hands who watched out for the drakes who might have issues in the night.

"Milady," George spoke as she opened the door. "Young Kane here has just informed me that there was a fight near the drake pasture. Some unknown drake was wandering the grounds and Lance jumped the fence and attacked it."

Lance, one of Rissa's toughest cases, was a particularly vicious animal sold to her by a nobleman after Lance killed another drake meant to pull a carriage with him. Rissa had learned by tattooing and branding on Lance's arms that he was a former 'gladiator' as sport-fighting drakes were called, likely from an African or Middle-Eastern country where drake-fighting, like dog-fighting, was popular, but far more expensive, bloody, and exciting to some than its canine counterpart. He was sweet as could be to Rissa and her female staff and stable hands, but unpredictable and horrifically dangerous to men. He got along well enough with the other drakes, but that had taken a long while to achieve, and he took weeks, even months, to accept new arrivals.

"I think someone let th'poor thing loose in th'grounds, abandoned 'er," Kane spoke up, his eyes wide at the horrible sight he'd come across. "Harry got 'im locked up- Lance got as good as 'e gave- and I've got one o' the day hands lookin' at the female. They're both in real bad shape, ma'am."
 
"Put the muzzle on Lance if he'll allow it. I'll dress and tend to him. He won't let anyone else help to tend to his wounds." Rissa said, cursing under her breath. "And take assessment of the other drake and get her medical attention immediately. I have no doubt that Lance meant to kill her."

Rissa dismissed them, closing the door to dress quickly in her thick coat and boots. She wouldn't let Lance take a bite at her if she could possibly help it.
 
Once outside, even in the dark Rissa could see areas here and there where the ground was ripped up by drake claws. At the stable, one of the main doors was hanging off one hinge, and inside, Rissa could hear the commotion almost immediately. Several of the daytime hands had woken to help, and now three were holding Lance's stable door shut desperately as the huge beast raged on the other side, smashing into the door and walls snarling like a rabid dog.

"He didn' take well t'the muzzle, milady," the young hand, Kane told her, gritting his teeth as Lance smashed into the door again, nearly throwing all three men. One of Lance's red-scaled, clawed hands tried to reach under, narrowly missing one man's boot and leaving four long gashes in the wood. "We 'ad t'lock 'im in, he was tryin' t'attack anythin' tha' moved."
 
“Lance!” Rissa called sharply through the door. “Calm down. We won’t be letting you free until you’re calm.”

She heard the crashing sounds as the drake tried to escape. She knew he was scared but she refused to let him injure any of her employees.

“Calm down, my love. Calm deep breaths.” Rissa coached him through the tantrum.
 
Lance's roars and growls took on a whine as he realized Rissa was there, and he began clawing at the bottom of the door to reach her. He loved her, and she had even caught him trying to break into her home twice when he was upset, trying to reach her.

After several minutes of coaxing, Lance finally laid his head on its side on the floor, looking out with one amber eye trying to see Rissa. He let out a mournful groan, his claws straining to reach under and find her.

Slowly, the stable hands opened the door, Lance pushing against it still until he saw Rissa. The red drake, covered in old scars and missing half of one horn, now sported several new wounds to his chest and arms and a nasty bite to his neck. He had managed to rip his muzzle off, likely not having given the stable hands time to secure it properly. He whined and pushed his head into Rissa's hands, letting her see he was scared. Often when he got into fights, his past could come back to haunt him like it would a human warrior, and Lance would mentally break and beg for Rissa's help even though she couldn't make it go away.
 
Rissa sighed as he lowered his head and nuzzled into her hands, seeking protection and forgiveness. “What am I going to do with you, my boy?”

She lifted his amber gaze towards her own and she leaned her forehead against his own. “Now, you’re going to stop all of this carrying on and let them treat you. I have to go see this other drake that you took on.”
 
Lance whined quietly as she spoke, sitting down in defeat. While the men couldn't approach him easily, there were women on staff ready to look after Lance and they soon took over even as Lance whined at Rissa leaving his side.
 
Rissa stood nearby as work was started on Lance, watching as the drake whines and cried like a wounded child. He was made of stern stuff, but he had a soft and wounded core. Once she was sure he was done attacking, she moved to the other stall and looked in at the other wounded drake.

“Poor girl.” Rissa said softly as the orange drake lay on her side and whimpered in pain. “What happened to you, my love?”

She could see the damage caused by Lance in an instant, but what made her angry were the bolts in her side from someone trying to kill her.
 
"She was not abandoned," the familiar, low voice of Qira came to Rissa from beside the door where he was leaning on the wall, a mortar and pestle in hand as he prepared a mix to help soothe the drake's pain. It seemed he had come out a bit before her, likely having heard the commotion. "She was chased away from home. She must have smelled the other drakes and come here." He stepped forward to apply the herbal paste to some of the worst bite wounds, but he'd avoided the bolts til he had help to hold the female down.
 
"Someone did their level best to kill her." Rissa said softly as the drake whined in pain, her dark brown eyes begging them for some relief. "We're trying, my love. I'm sure that Lance smelled the blood on her and that's what caused him to try and attack. He can always tell a weaker drake."
 
"Maybe we can work on that," Qira offered before rising. "We will need help holding her down to get those bolts out. Rope will help so she does not hurt herself." He stepped out briefly, fetching a couple coils of rope and carefully tying the drake's feet together, and then her arms. Rissa had seen the technique done with many farm animals, tying their legs to posts so they could be tended without thrashing and hurting themselves or the stable hands. The female didn't resist much even as other hands stepped in and took hold of the ropes, slowly pulling them taut as Qira fetched pliers and drew a knife. With their barbed heads, bolts had to be extracted carefully else they'd shred an animal's insides and cause further bleeding. On extra cut here and there and they could be pulled more easily, but it was a painful process.
 
Rissa immediately moved to help Qira, assisting him as he worked to carefully and quickly remove the bolts from the drake's side. The poor creature barely fought, simply lying there as he worked. She could see the light in the drake's eyes dimming, giving up on life.

"You're not going to do that, my love." Rissa murmured to the drake. "I'm not going to let you. You'll have a good life here. I just need you to hang on long enough for me to show you that."
 
Carefully cutting just far enough to pull the bolts out, Qira shed as little of the orange drake's blood as possible and soon was placing bandages and salve to soothe pain as best he could.

Soon Qira was kneeling at the drake's head as the stable hands unbound her feet. Taking her head in his hands, Qira leaned down, murmuring softly to her in Swahili as he stroked her maw and mane.
 
Rissa stood back to give Qira a moment with the drake. She was a lovely color of orange, her scales tipped with a brownish-black fleck. Her mane and eyes were a chocolate brown, both healthy looking in spite of her wounds.

"She's a lovely drake." Rissa said softly as Qira settled over the wounded animal.
 
"She is," Qira agreed softly. "Half Northern, half desert drake. No pure desert drake has a mane this long, or such wide feet and hands."
 
“She's yours if you wish to care for her. I’m afraid lance would be likely to attack her again.” Rissa said in a sad tone as the poor creature whimpered deeply and tried her hardest to sit upright.
 
"Maybe..." Qira murmured. Instead of fighting the drake and stressing her out, he helped her to sit up, silently straining to help her lift her barrel chest off the ground and get her arms under her. Once she was steady, Qira took a deep breath and met her eyes, sharing a moment of understanding with her. "Kosaav, eldere," he murmured gently in Erygonian.
 
The drake let out a long and mournful cry at his words, her great head dropping as someone spoke to her in a familiar tongue. She whimpered and pressed her broad head into Qira’s belly, nearly begging for some kind of comfort from the pain that she had just been through.

“She’s got a long road ahead of her.” Rissa said as she watched the female drake struggling.
 
Qira settled on the floor of the stable with the drakes, calmly stroking her mane and scales. "I will stay with her," Qira muttered. "If she does not survive the night, she will not be alone."
 
“I’ll go and check on Lance. If you need any supplies, they are kept at the end of the stable in the tack room. Help yourself.” Rissa said, looking over the orange drake that seemed to settle now that Qira was staying. “And choose a name.”
 
Qira nodded, his focus entirely on the orange female drake and making her feel safe and comfortable as the salves and medicine kicked in.
 
Rissa left him then, returning to Lance's side as he allowed the female stable hands to work on him. He grumbled and growled as they patched him up and as soon as they were done, Rissa ordered him saddled up.

"I'm going to ride him until he's too tired to protest against anyone." Rissa explained simply as one of the stable hands raised a concern. "He'll understand."
 
Quietly bowing to her judgement, the stable hands brought her saddle and bridle, confusing Lance as they made him stand up. He fought a bit until he was faced with Rissa once more, and then he softened again and obediently knelt to let her climb on.
 
Rissa got into the saddle and turned him towards the entrance of the stable. From there, she let him go. She had done this in the past when he had gotten out of control, showing him that there was a time and a place for his anger and anxiety.
 
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