Rider's Bond: Fang - Chapter 1
Rider's Bond: Fang
Chapter 1: 14-D [A]
Every pack of wolves has its Alpha.
The tang of sweat, labored breathing and corroded iron filled the room. Blinding white light from the row of small windows glinted and reflected off polished steel.
The wolf groaned with exertion. Come on... One more... The smells barraging his sensitive nose gave his mind something to cling to, other than the pain and fatigue in his trembling arms and chest.
The rays streaming into the otherwise darkened room blazed a fast, steady course across the far wall from left to right, revealing galaxies of dander dust, chalk, and spittle suspended in the air as they drifted by.
He growled, every muscle in his body straining as he pressed with all his might against the barbell.
The steel slowly lifted away from his body.
With a snarl of effort, the wolf fully extended his arms, then lowered the weight to the catch and collapsed back, panting.
The row of bright spots on the opposite wall slowly stretched out, then vanished, leaving the room in total darkness. Seconds later the room filled with a ghostly white glow that travelled the same general track as the brilliant rays of light had, followed by dark, then the intensely bright spots were reborn once again. The pattern repeated over and over again, nearly four times every minute. Each time, the ghostly light was just the faintest bit brighter.
The wolf lay there panting, mind blank for the moment as endorphins and oxygen flooded his exhausted brain and limbs. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, the only sound in the room besides his breathing. He turned his head to the side, looking along the curved passageway to his right as he braced himself for his next exercise.
His chronometer chimed. One minute.
He twisted his hips reflexively right to allow his tail room to slide left as he rose to a sitting position. The wolf lifted his digitigrade left foot over the bench and checked the straps holding his rubber foot-pad grips tight. He stood and stretched for just a moment before stepping away from the bench to the center of the track.
A wave of nausea hit him at the motion, his head spinning.
The wolf gritted his teeth as he knelt; he pressed his fingers to the cool metal floor and leaned his weight forward, tensing his body. He tried to steady his breathing as the last few seconds ticked away. He looked up, along the row of windows in the floor, bright light just starting to spear in through the most distant windows as he forced down his gag reflex.
Two chimes. GO!
The wolf threw himself forward with his all his might, accelerating as quickly as possible in the direction of the module's rotation at a full sprint. The faster he ran, the heavier he felt.
He squinted as the sun's rays pierced up from below, the windows flashing by beneath his feet. He could feel the heat on his fur. The only sounds reaching his ears were the striking of rubber against metal, hard breathing, and his pulse pounding in his chest.
Moments later, the heat was swallowed up in darkness, naught but starlight to guide his way. Ahead he could see the pale glow of the planet swell into view. Aliquam's deserts, thin bands of vegetation, clouds, and dark oceans flew by beneath his feet and then were gone, then the sun, five times.
He could feel the ache of fatigue in his body as the bench marking his starting place on the 400 meter track came into view ahead. _Almost there! "_RRRRrrrrrraaahhhhh...."
He sprinted by his mark two seconds before the chime indicating one minute chirped in his ear.
He broke his sprint and eased slowly back into a lighter jog, gasping for air. _58 seconds. Not bad. _ He continued to a brisk walk, panting.
Beneath his feet, the day side of the planet passed steadily by, the night side moving in to replace it.
Knots and cramps threatened to seize the muscles in his legs and arms. The wolf stretched his limbs as he walked out his final 400 meter lap.
He took the time to enjoy the beauty of space beneath his feet, his thoughts wandering to the challenges ahead as his heart recovered.
The overpowering light came closer in time with views of the planet below; before long, he had a better view of deeper space. Millions of stars and distant galaxies filled the growing darkness.
The beauty of it all sent a thrill up his spine. Almost there! The wolf spent the past two and a half years of training to earn his chance to prove his mettle and earn his shot at a Splinter Covert Assault and Reconnaissance (SCAR) team. There was nowhere he would rather be right now than arriving at Aliquam. Using the very best equipment and training Splinter had to offer, he would be paired with an alien natural killer who surpassed even the wolves in ferocity.
The wolf grinned at the thought. By the time he reached his gear, the sun was no longer visible, fully eclipsed by the darkened hemisphere below. The only illumination was starlight and the pale gleam of Anten, Aliquam's brother.
He knelt, picked up his bag, and turned slowly to the ladder mounted to the left wall. With the strap over his shoulder, he grasped metal rungs and ascended into the tube above.
The metal was cold and damp. Condensation seeped into the soft fur lining the edges of his palm.
When he reached the second level of the gym, he dismounted the ladder and strode down the hall toward the lockers, a little spring entering his step with less force holding him down.
The faint glow of the emergency guide lighting was all that lit the way - tiny amber points of light spaced three per meter, each the brightness of a small candle. Ahead, two parallel benches came into view, one on either side of the dimly lit path. Beside each was a darkened doorway to an unlit room.
He approached the right bench and let the strap of his bag slide from his shoulder. The wolf sat down and released the straps from his foot-grips. He set them beside the bag, then stood and tugged off his shorts. He took a moment to look himself over.
His fur was black over most of his body. It was full and rich over his back, shoulders, and the outside of his limbs. His chest, belly, underarms and inner thighs were covered in softer, shorter fur, which was matted in places by sweat, pressed flat in other places by his clothing. Around his groin, the fur thinned out almost completely, blending lightly into the smooth black skin over his pelvis and gender.
The wolf sighed contentedly as he rubbed over his muscular body, chest, arms, tight abdomen, pelvis and sides, working out tense spots threatening to cramp. He loved being nude. He enjoyed the comfort of it, the freedom of movement. He grasped the bench and walked his feet backward, stretching out his legs, one at a time.
He turned his head up and stretched his neck as well, smiling, as he considered the many things he enjoyed doing nude. Aliquam was a world of untapped potential. He knew he had an edge over most males when it came to physical appearance generally, and he was not worried about being able to find and satisfy any wolfess he wanted. Breathing a sigh of relief, he walked himself back to the bench and stood to his bare feet, looking into the opening in the wall beside him.
The room was completely dark besides a faint reflection of the emergency guide lighting from the far wall.
He stepped into the darkness.
The muffled sound of bare feet meeting wet tile echoed and reverberated across unseen walls with each footfall. The floor was textured, rough and a little uncomfortable against his skin as he cautiously stepped to the far wall, hands out in front of him. His palms met the warm metal surface.
The wolf blinked as his left hand found the handle it sought, and he twisted smoothly to the left. _Dust... _ He sucked in a breath as cold water cascaded over his body, fingers tightening.
Warm water washed away the chill, causing his muscles to relax under the liquid heat trickling in rivulets through his thick fur to the skin beneath.
Oh, Dust... He smiled, tilting his face up to the source of the warm water cascading over his body, eyes closed.
A rush of memories came to him. Very pleasant memories.
He groped around in the dark, found the soap dispenser and filled his hand with the slippery liquid. The wolf took a half step back and rubbed it into his fur, starting with his face, neck and back, then down his chest to his lower body.
His eyes slowly adjusted as he rinsed. The steam filled his nose and lungs.
He wanted her again. The wolf's mind was begging him to dwell on certain sweetest memories, but there wasn't time to deal with the consequences right now. He found the handle again and twisted it clockwise until he felt just the slightest chill. "Think about dragons, Fang..." he muttered to himself. He twisted the handle another ten degrees, inhaling sharply between teeth as the water suddenly took on an icy chill. "Dragons, deserts, and..." He had been about to say dust. The wolf growled, shivered and gasped. He killed the flow of water with a final twist of the wrist, then shook as much of the water from his fur as he could before making his way carefully back to his things.
The wolf had wisely packed his towel in the top of his bag, but foolishly forgot to open it.
He tried to squeeze as much water from his fur as possible before squatting down, reaching out quickly and unzipping the bag. He grabbed his towel and stood quickly to his feet, taking a step away.
There was a slight vibration beneath his feet, and a low pitched rumble replaced the silence he'd been enjoying. A second later he could feel his weight shifting, pulling him backward.
He snatched his bag in one hand before it could tumble into the showers and stepped to the side, away from the opening.
The ship was just beginning its deceleration into orbit.
He glanced at his chronometer, then toweled himself dry as quickly as he could. "Come on, Fang..." The wolf hurriedly pulled a pair of desert-pattern tan uniform pants from his bag and stepped into them, mindful to ease his tail carefully through the opening at the rear. The pants were followed shortly by the uniform top. He reached around in the bag, searching until he found his boots. A moment later he had them on. He tightened the drawstrings on his waist band, then his boots. He stuffed his towel and running foot-pads into the bag and then set off at a hurried pace further down the hall, keeping in somewhat of a crouch in the event that...
The sound and force of the engine burn ended even more abruptly than it began.
Fang caught himself, then settled into a lopsided run in the dark passageway as he fumbled to zip up his bag. He reached the ladder from the locker and shower level to the center of the ship and ascended as quickly as he could.
The illusion of gravity faded rung by rung as he climbed. In less than a minute he was more or less floating outside the hatch at the top of the ladder.
He punched in the crew code on the keypad beside the door.
The mechanism emitted a metallic popping sound, and a second later it was open a few millimeters; bright white artificial light spilled in from the other side.
He pushed open the hatch and pulled himself through. He took the time to relock it before kicking away from the rotating gym and toward the passenger section access door. The same crew access code granted him passage through this, and the next.
The transition to artificial gravity in the narrow corridor happened faster than the wolf was prepared for.
He swallowed the wave of nausea while making his way quickly through a third heavy metal white-painted airlock door. He shut it behind him.
Bright lettering was stamped in red paint on the hatch:
CREW ONLY
Fang smiled, remembering how he got the access code as he hurried his way through the mostly empty passenger areas. He strode quickly through the crew galley, passenger mess, lounge, and seating areas, drawing a few looks.
"You'd better hurry, I think they're just about to leave," one uniformed wolf said.
In the corner of his eye, Fang caught the wolf's rank insignia. He tilted his head to one side in a bit of a nod as he stepped up his pace to a jog between tightly packed rows of seats. "Yes, sir!"
The seating ended at a cramped loading area. The gray metal deck and passenger loading dock were outlined with alternating black and yellow caution markings around the airlock door.
Fang took a moment to look the two wolves over.
Both wore black flight suits. One wolf's shoulder was marked with a pair of broad gold bars, linked together by three silver cross-members. The other wolf had no insignia on his shoulder, but each collar bore a single silver dragon pin. The patch on their upper right sleeves depicted the silhouette of a snarling wolf's head surrounded by the wings of a dragon, outlined in blood red. Beneath the image was finely embroidered black lettering, Nusquam Abscondere. "Maybe someday, specialist..." The white furred wolf in front of him said, and made eye contact with him.
Fang returned the look silently, careful not to show his irritation, but refusing to look away. He did straighten his back a little, though, putting him nearly a head taller than both of the other wolves.
The white wolf gave him a feral grin. "Good. You're going to need that here. Welcome to Aliquam." With that, he turned around and ducked through the low airlock door.
Fang followed, feeling a mixture of pride and respect well up in his heart as he ducked through the doorway. He felt as though he'd just passed some sort of test.
The shuttle, as with most Splinter spacecraft, was a repurposed civilian vessel. Just inside the door, the floor sloped down for several paces, a sort of ramp, it seemed, to the flat floor of the cargo area. Fang could not tell at a glance exactly what the ship's original cargo might have been. The walls were bare. There were no windows, and the stark lights mounted in the ceiling had a distinct industrial coldness to them. Metal stanchions were spaced throughout the compartment; makeshift seats constructed with webbing and synthetic fabric panels were mounted between them. The two wolves ahead passed the only remaining seat in the passenger compartment and climbed the crew stair to the cockpit as the airlock door banged shut behind him.
He took a second to shove his bag beneath his seat before turning and sinking into the fabric, mindful to ease his tail into a strategically placed gap in the webbing. Fang found his safety restraints, one over each shoulder, one from each hip, and one between his legs attached to a round metal housing.
The overhead lights brightened as one by one, systems came to life.
He clicked all four buckles into the housing and looked at the wolf wedged in beside him on the same makeshift bench. His seat-mate was a mid-sized wolf with black fur over most of his head with a lighter, charcoal color marking his lower jaw and throat. He looked about the same age. He was fit, well groomed, and his eyes were bright, full of intelligence. He had on heavy gray cloth pants, the sort commonly worn by private security mercenaries, and a green tactical vest but no shirt. His fur stuck out in places through gaps in the vest, bunched up around his collar. His bronze eyes were looking down into his gray skinned upturned hands resting in his lap. The wolf looked miserable.
Fang smiled at him. "Hey..."
Those bronze eyes turned up to meet his own, immediately brightening. "Hello..." The wolf looked down a moment, glancing to where Fang's name tape would be if he had not stripped the jacket clean.
"Fang."
The other's eyes flicked back up, restoring eye contact.
"Here for training?" Fang asked.
The wolf was silent just a moment before replying with a warm smile, "I am." He dipped his head and held out his right fist in greeting. "Crag." He took a short breath before asking, "You?"
The sound of the white wolf's voice broke out over the intercom, "We will break free from the ship and begin our descent to the surface in one minute. Make sure all your gear is secure, it could get bumpy." It clicked off, the words punctuated by the sudden, near deafening high pitched whine of hydraulics.
Fang's ears pinned back. He tightened the straps on his restraints and he planted his boots a little further apart, firmly on the deck with his heels digging into the sides of his bag. The wolf did not mind being in space, but he hated reentry. He knew exactly how dangerous it could be. Especially in a relic like this.
A loud, high pitched hiss and a lurch forward marked their separation from the larger craft. Ten seconds later, the sound of thrusters re-orienting the shuttle reverberated through the metal floor. The hydraulic pump switched off. Then came the engine burn.
The wolves covered their ears.
The next thirty minutes were painful for them. Between the excruciating roar of the shuttle's engines, the high g-forces of deceleration into the planet's atmosphere, and having no windows at all, a few of the wolves could no longer hold the contents of their stomachs. The stench of bile, stomach acid, and partially digested meat filled the section, and several others vomited onto the deck.
Fang gritted his teeth as his own stomach turned, refusing to let it go any further. He squeezed his eyes shut and did everything he could to ignore the overpowering urges his sensitive nose was driving.
An eternity passed before a loud thump and the return of the high pitched whine of hydraulics marked the extension of the landing gear. Three agonizing minutes later, the shuttle's engines throttled back and the deck pitched up just before the chirping sound of rubber meeting pavement echoed throughout the compartment.
The moment the main landing gear hit the ground, Fang snapped his bag off the deck and into his lap, quickly inspecting for any sign of vomit before holding it to his chest. _Dammit, hurry up and park this can. _ He looked at the wolf to his right.
His seat-mate had his head between his knees, nose hovering just a few inches above a sick bag. As the shuttle taxied to the ramp, he slowly sat back.
Fang gave him a sympathetic look, but did not bother trying to speak over the noise of the engines.
A brown furred wolf climbed down the crew stair to the deck and then to the back near the airlock door. He triggered a switch and the ramp at the back cracked open. As the ramp came down to a level deck angle, a hot mixture of jet fumes and fresh air swirled through the area. The strong smell of exhaust was unpleasant but the fresh air carrying it in cleared away the stench of vomit, a welcome relief to the wolves.
Fang looked over his shoulder toward the lowering ramp. His right foot was flexing rhythmically with impatience, causing his bag to bounce slightly in his lap. He rested his hand on the rotary buckle.
It was dark outside. The shuttle made one final turn and then stopped. The ramp resumed lowering.
Even before the fuel was cut to the engines, Fang had his restraints off and he was to his feet. He heard shouting behind him, but ignored it. The black wolf stepped to the edge and off of the ramp, then into the cool spring early morning air without looking back.
The shuttle was parked at the ramp on the eastern side of the runway. The sky was black and clear, except to the East, where the first hints of light touched the horizon. A row of lights marked the edge of the flight line.
Fang knew from the map he was issued that the SCAR training facility was on the opposite side of the base, and he wanted to get there as soon as possible. He made his way to the row of lights and through a small guarded checkpoint in the fence surrounding the ramp near the control tower. He followed a paved track cutting east across the base.
The path led past several hangars, a smaller VTOL field base, and into the collection of buildings belonging to the school. They were grouped around a rectangular open space. On the south end of the clearing, there was a very large hangar, the mess hall, and a smaller armory. The west (and longest) side included the base hospital with separate wings for treating dragons and wolves, a supply store, and the officers' club. The north end had the SCAR headquarters and training buildings flush with a series of smaller hangars for maintenance and storage for smaller craft. The East side was open to a very short dirt airstrip, a little less than a kilometer long.
Fang left the pavement and stepped across the path to the headquarters building. He looked around a moment before finding a large square button recessed into the wall beside the door. He pressed it with his palm.
There was nearly a minute of silence before a loud electronic hum and a soft click. The door slid open sideways.
He stepped through the opening.
The HQ building, like the rest of the base, seemed mostly asleep. There was a single, reddish brown furred wolf manning a lit desk at the opposite end of the otherwise dark entryway. The sound of boots striking polished stone echoed with each footstep, making the place feel expansive. The lobby smelled clean but had a distinct undertone of something unidentifiable.
Despite the building being dark and empty, Fang waited until he was close enough to avoid shouting before greeting him. "Good morning."
As Fang approached, the wolf stood and returned the greeting with a smile. "Good morning." He looked around, then seeming to find what he was looking for, pulled a hand held computer from a charging rack and handed it to him. "You are first, Fang." He paused a moment, and his smile fading slightly when Fang did not immediately respond. "I need your military records. You can drop off your medical and dental records together at Flight Medicine later when people are awake."
Fang set his bag on the ground and opened it up. He felt around between his piles of clothing; his hand found the soft stack of envelopes and he withdrew the slimmest of the three and set it on the table. "First?"
The wolf's smile returned. "You are the first wolf in 14-D to check in. Everyone is asleep, probably including your dragon." He got a wild gleam in his eye for a moment as he spoke the last word. "Head into the eastern entrance of the hangar at the south end of the SCAR training area. Your room is on the left side, about half way down. You can get settled there. They begin serving breakfast at 0700."
His stomach growled as he heard the word breakfast. He'd not had a bite since exercising, and he suddenly felt the twinge of hunger in full force. _0700..._Fang looked at his watch, which had automatically adjusted to the local zone here at Dusk Field. _0445. Damn. _ A few more questions entered his mind, but he was eager to get settled and dump his bag, so held his tongue. He thanked the wolf and departed quietly back into the cool early morning air.
The crescent of Aliquam's brother planet Anten rising cast an eerie glow across the training area. To the East, the dirt strip was largely masked by deep shadows from the mountains lining the valley, but the massive hangar on the south end of the clearing gleamed in the soft light.
Fang inhaled deeply. He ignored the road and strode straight across the clearing toward the hangar.
The air was still and clear. The sound of his boots crunching into the gravel and sand seemed to die at his feet.
His mind wandered. Dusk. _He remembered the name thrown around since his basic training. He remembered the story of Dusk, selfless hero of the cause. On the back of Umbra, a massive black dragon who had killed hundreds of Pack wolves with his claws and flame, Dusk frustrated the entire defense force at a highly secure facility, while a small contingent of Splinter wolves infiltrated the base and stole a massive troop transport. Dusk lost his life in the engagement; he was thrown from Umbra's back by a great explosion when the Pack cowards bombed their own base trying to destroy the transport. _Bastards...
Fang growled.
If the pair had SCAR training and equipment, Dusk would still be alive and giving the Pack hell. All through Fang's training, their story was presented as an example of the sort of courage it would take to defeat the Pack in the end. And now he was treading ground that bore the legendary wolf's name. Fang fought hard to get here; pushed his body and mind far beyond what he ever thought possible. He earned his right to share in Dusk's legacy. Soon, he would be a dragon rider, and it would be his turn to strike at the heart of their enemy.
He tried to imagine his dragon, and not for the first time. The shape was elusive in his mind. Vague. After a couple minutes of walking, he reached northeast corner of the hangar and pressed the access button with his right hand. The entrance was an armored bunker cut through the main doors of the massive hangar.
As the door slid open, a blast of chilled air hit him, ruffling the fur around his face.
His ears pinned back, and he stepped quickly through the opening.
The massive hangar was dimly lit. The overhead lighting was completely dark. The soft glow of green emergency exit lighting was enough to see by, but just barely.
Fang worked his way to the left side of the hangar, where a row of heavily armored bunkers similar to the hangar entry control doors lined the wall. He looked down at the name plates on each door, leaning in to check each one. Cloud, Rut, Tree, Digger, Shade, Wind... Fang moved down the line until he saw his own name. The bronze plate was engraved with two names, his class number, and a designator of some sort.
Fang
Cirrus
14-D [A]
He snorted. Fang had not realized he would have a roommate. This would complicate things, especially things of the female variety. Oh, well... Cirrus... His roommate would just have to be understanding.
He glanced at the designator beneath the two wolves' names. He grinned. _Alpha. _ Among Pack wolves, the Alphas lived lives of privilege and influence, but their position in society was hereditary. Splinter rejected that idea entirely, but Fang knew there would always be an Alpha, a leader. He was determined to become that leader here, among his peers.
Fang set his bag down and explored the panel, trying to find some sort of switch. On the left side he felt a rubberized indentation behind the elevated metal. He pressed his fingers into it and pulled the panel open. Behind the bronze panel were two sets of retina scanners. The top one seemed more suited to a wolf of his size, and he leaned in and peered into the lens.
A moment later, there was a muffled *click* and the door slid open. Inside was a second door, a wooden one, with a massive handle. Painfully bright white artificial lighting above him made him squeeze his eyes shut a few moments before he could see again, squinting.
He grasped the handle and pulled it slowly open.
He stepped inside and shut the door quickly on the painfully bright light. He left it open just a sliver while he sought the light switch. Fang paused a moment, considering. What if his roommate were already here? There was a smell he did not quite recognize emanating from the darkness. He spent a few moments scenting, trying to place it. It was similar to what he smelled in the headquarters building. _Cirrus couldn't be here... I am the first..._He flipped the switch.
The room was rectangular. The left wall, where the ridiculously oversized light switch was mounted, continued maybe ten paces across the room. At the far end, two wooden doors with dull metal handles were recessed into the smooth surface. The far wall was featureless besides a single wolf-sized bunk elevated to a height roughly mid-chest for Fang. Beneath the bunk was-
Fang flipped the light switch off immediately.
A soft rumbling sound broke the silence, hanging in the air. "SSsrrrrrrhhhhh.... Mmmhhhh..."
The wolf's heart was pounding.
"...Fang..." The voice did not sound fully awake. "...Faang?"
The black furred wolf froze, his mind unable to hold a coherent train of thought, or formulate a verbal response. Fear and uncertainty swelled in his throat.
"It's alright, you can turn the light on. I am awake..." The voice was deep and smooth... like the soft, rolling echo of thunder.
Fang hesitated just a moment while he fought to regain his composure. He steeled his resolve, took a deep breath, and smiled softly before throwing the switch.
The dragon was curled up on a large pad, the top of which was flush with the metal floor. Its sky blue wings were furled behind its back, and made a soft sliding sound as the dragon pushed itself into a sitting position. Its body was covered in scales, most of which were varying shades of sky blue. Patches of white scales marked its major facial features, between its nostrils, along its cheeks and jaws, and over the eye ridges. Streaks of white faded into lighter blue further over its back and flank. The scales of its underside from its lower jaw to the tip of its tail were a soft, cloudy white. Over its lower back and haunches, the scales faded smoothly to a darker blue, the darkest being the back of the tail, where they were a deep sapphire. The scales varied in size across the different parts of its body, the largest and most pronounced being over the shoulders and upper back. They were smallest around the paws and lower belly, where they were so small Fang could not discern one from the next.
Fang lifted the strap on his bag off his shoulder and over his head, then walked over to the metal ladder supporting his bunk, where he gently set it down. He turned to the edge of the pad underneath his bunk, and met the dragon's bleary look. "...Cirrus?"
The dragon blinked sleepiness away from its silver-gray eyes as they adjusted to the bright light. The iris in each bore a marquise shaped pupil, drawn to a near vertical slit as the dragon squinted. As striking and sharp as they were, the soft wrinkles at the corners of the eye, where top and bottom eyelids met betrayed their tendency to smile, as they were now. "That is my name." It rose to its feet and padded soundlessly to the edge of its bed, then sat back again. In the sitting position, the dragon was nearly a head shorter than Fang. It lifted its right forepaw and hooked it over one of the bars serving as a step ladder supporting the foot of Fang's bunk, and slowly rose on its hind feet, until the two were eye-level with one another. "May I greet you, in the way of my kind?"
Fang was still captivated by the intensity of the dragon's silver eyes. His mind was spinning, though outwardly he did his very best to maintain a front of confidence. He did not want to lose the respect of the first dragon he met by playing the coward. It was comforting, and in some ways reassuring how the dragon stopped at eye level, rather than towering over him. "Of course."
The dragon slid its nose under Fang's chin and closed its eyes. "It is an honor to finally meet you."
The wolf felt heat rise in his ears. The gesture was a lot more personal than he was prepared for. He swallowed the nervous lump rising in his throat. Wolves rarely exposed their throats to another. The dragon could kill him with a quick bite if it wanted, but that was not the source of his sudden discomfort. His personal space had just been invaded in a way he would normally only allow with a wolfess. Such a vulnerable area one would not open to any but a lover. The dragon's gesture was strange, alien to him, and was keeping him off balance. "Finally?" Unsure what the appropriate response would be to the dragon's greeting, Fang placed his left hand on the dragon's neck.
After a few moments, the dragon pulled back, a warm expression on its face. It lifted its left paw and rested it over Fang's right shoulder, mimicking the hand motion. "I have spent three years learning about Wolves. Your anatomy, language, customs, politics... But the past year my studies have all been tailored around you, specifically."
The scales felt hard, strong, and light under his palm; he could feel the heat of the dragon's body through them. A feverish heat, Fang thought, but maybe this was normal for a dragon.
The digits of the dragon's paw on his shoulder were tipped with extremely sharp talons, resting just against his skin.
Its breath smelled clean to Fang, as though the dragon had put some time and thought into making it so, but the moist heat still carried an oily scent with it, filling his nostrils and making them tingle.
The dragon had two pure white horns that curved slightly back from where they were attached to its skull behind the eye ridges. Tucked beneath were two elongated blue ears that tapered to a fine point, extending just past the tips of its horns.
"Me, specifically?" He was selected for SCAR when he finished Heavy Weapons school, wasn't he? He graduated top of his class.
It gave him a sympathetic look. "I don't know why they wait until you finish your technical specialist training to tell you of their choice. I think they keep it secret so you are not distracted from your learning, though I wish it were not so." The dragon's smile returned. "I know they were right to choose you, Fang. I am proud to be your partner."
Fang rested his right hand on the wrist of the dragon's left forepaw. There was tremendous strength in the muscles beneath those scales. "Thank you... Cirrus..." He paused. "That is a wolf's name. Why are you called Cirrus? And... please forgive me for asking, but are you male or female? You are the only dragon I've ever met."
The dragon beamed at the former, then laughed at the latter question. "You could not pronounce the name given by my father on the day of my hatching. Yes, Fang, I was named in the tradition of the Wolves. In my two years here on Aliquam, I earned a reputation for my ability to fly higher and longer than any other dragon. Because of that, and the color I inherited from my mother and trait-father, the wolf instructors named me after the high clouds you see on a clear day. Cirrus is now my only name, and so I go by even among my own kind." It lifted its paw from Fang's right shoulder and leaned back a little. "And I am very much a male."
Fang cleared his throat and lifted his hand from the dragon's neck, then looked away, toward his bag, breaking eye contact for the first time. "Thank you." He walked to the two doors behind him, opening them one after the other.
The right door was a closet. There was a narrow shelf at the top, probably for boots, possibly a place to keep a sidearm for easy access. Beneath the shelf was a rail for hanging uniform items, taking up roughly half the space. In the bottom of the closet was a stack of drawers for storing other clothes. The left door opened to a very small room with a sink, a mirror, and a toilet. A roll of toilet paper was mounted on the wall opposite the metal seat.
The wolf heard the dragon shift to one side, trying to peer around him and into the bathroom from where he sat on his pad. Fang stepped aside to allow his roommate a better look.
Cirrus sniffed a few times. "I was wondering what was in there. Those round handles were not designed with dragon paws in mind." The dragon's rich, deep voice echoed in the small space. He looked up into the mirror. When Fang stepped up beside him, he smiled.
Fang flipped the light switch just inside the door, and a ventilation fan kicked on at the same instant two dim can lights, recessed into the ceiling, flickered to life. "I'll be out in a bit."
Cirrus nodded, seeming to understand. "I am glad to have you here, at last, Fang."
The wolf smiled, then closed the door. Seeing no need to lock it, he swung his tail to the side and sat down on the lidless toilet seat, fully dressed, and just listened to the loud whine of the fan for a while. It was too much to take in. My roommate is a dragon... His ears pinned back. My dragon...
The dragon's warm silver eyes filled his mind's eye and that smooth, rumbling voice rang in his ears. "I am proud to be your partner."
Fang suddenly felt childish for his reaction to the alpha designator. _Partner. _ He would achieve nothing here by himself. _Cirrus. _The dragon was nothing he expected. All these years, he thought of the dragons as fearsome, cunning, ruthless beasts. Intelligent, sure. But he realized he never imagined them as people. Much less people of character, depth, and feeling. And what about that feeling? Cirrus treated him as a long lost brother, or so it seemed to Fang.
The noise of the fan droned on.
Fang stood, wishing he had room to pace. He had no idea what to expect coming here. He grasped both sides of the sink and squeezed until his knuckles hurt. Don't be stupid, Fang. He turned the water on and lapped at the cold stream. He drank until he could stomach no more, then stood, looking at himself in the mirror. His amber eyes were hard. There were lines at the corners of his eyes but they were not touched by laughter. _What are you becoming? _ He shut off the water. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and opened the door.
The room was empty.