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Christian tapped his finger on the ornate table as he sat across from a man with a white suit and beard. The man also wore a pair of round spectacles, the well dressed man hummed idly as he thumbed through a sales contract.

“Well mister O’Donelson, I think we can work out a deal if you raise the price by .25 cents per pound. The cost of feeding labor has gone up considerably these past years.” The man said with a smile and pushed a cigar box toward Christian.

Christian was the son of a well off textile merchant family, and had been sent to secure a new supply of cotton for his father's business. The younger man pulled a cigar from the box and politely slid it into his chest pocket of his tweed pinstripe suit.

“We could make that adjustment” Christian said thoughtfully, though there was no thought needed. He could have gone up to 50 cents a pound if need be. His father's company needed cotton to fill the textile demand growing in Europe.

The white suited man smiled and pulled out a pen to sign the paper but left it capped. Setting the fine pen next to the paper and standing up. “Well why don't I show you around the plantation? A customer of your grandeur should see where and how we make our product.”

Christian seeing the pen set down didn't take this as an invitation he could excuse. Starting to see some of the reasons why his father sent him down here. As the old man had said too ‘further his education’ in business.

His father was the type to get negotiations done quick and fast, reach an agreement and be done. Christian had proven to have more patience, and a cooler head.

The white suited Southern Gentleman by the name of Harrison, was in all his fancy splendor also all that his father would hate in a plantation owner.

On the way up to the house. Christian had been subjected to the sight of some powerful wingless drakes plowing fields. Dragging heavy iron and wood implements and panting in the sweltering summer heat. While under the cruel supervision of clippers or some other farm hand with a whip.

It was hard for Christian to retain his polite composer, but he faired better than his father, an unapologetic abolitionist, who would have flown into a rage at the sight. Probably would have tried to challenge the man to an old school duel or something just as ridiculous.

The thought of that alone made it easier to keep a false smile on his face as he followed the man. The pair exited the back of the large plantation house standing under the large well shaded porch.

Harrison summoned a stable hand that had been passing by, “go fetch Rose and Thorn dear boy”

The smartly dressed stablehand nodded his head and jogged off at once, leaving Christian once again alone in the company of the southern aristocrat. The man going on about the market and how the politics of the dragon lovers would have him out of his estate. Each minute passing making a fire burn in the young man's chest, and Christian had to avoid eye contact with the man, as he was sure his gaze would show only hatred and disgust.

He instead surveyed the farm as the man spoke, feigning interest in things like plows, and the small tidbits about maintaining a farm of such scale. Crop cycles and other dull things until the stable hand returned.

Christians gaze was no longer harsh, his eyes instead widened in astonishment at the sight before him. The young boy was leading two harnessed dragonesses toward them each one mottled orange, black, and white. Both their faces mirror images of the other.

The left one was orange on the right and black on the left, with heterochromatic eyes of green and blue. The black side sporting a bright blue iris and the orange a sharp green. The other ness was just the same but reversed left black and right orange with respective eye colors matching.

“Ahhh yes, the most beautiful show dragons in all the south. They've won me two prizes this year.” Harrison said proudly, but proud in the way a human was of a prize horse or dog.

That flame of disgust rising in his heart again, his fists clenching and then relaxing after a split second when the man clapped him on his back. Christian masked his hatred with a pleasant smile, as the man led him down the white washed steps.

“Come let us get you up in the saddle my new friend, and let us tour the farm on dragon back. There's nothing like it.” The man said cheerily.

“Which would you like to ride Christian?” The man asked, and Christian looked over the two before simply saying.

“Thorn”

He didn't know which was which until he had spoken and the ness on the left stiffened some. Her eyes fixed on him, and he looked back at her for a moment before she looked away quickly averting her eyes. The dragoness stood five foot six inches at the shoulder about, just a little lower than Christians height of five foot, eight inches. But her head was still held a fair bit higher than his, if it would have been lifted on her long neck. The reins the boy held kept it low and eye level with him.

Christian was bustled over to her by the bullish aristocrat, and he was quickly ushered up on her back. The dragoness lowered her body after a gruff command. Perched atop her back now, Christian could only feel like his soul had been sullied. By participation he was no better than this white suited aristocratic slaver, the devil take his kind.

Christian was beyond hatred, as he watched the man gruffly demand the other ness to squat lower until she was laying on the ground before boarding her. The younger man gently patted the dragoness’ neck when no one was looking. He could feel her muscles stiffen under him at the probably unknown action. She probably never knew a tender pat, or a kind word. Treated as nothing but a slightly smarter horse by Harrison.

“Just guide her like a horse and follow along young man, and we'll Tour the land that grows your new cotton.” Harrison said in a happy voice.

Christian took the reins, and yet again felt sullied, though Thorn without need of guidance followed along behind her twin sister. He could feel her muscles rippling under him, similar to a horse but with even more power and precision. Despite her size she was a powerful predator that man hundreds of years ago would have feared. But now brought low by human society and mistreated on the grandest of scales. Even now approaching the first year of the 1900s, one would have thought that rational minds would have seen them free along with the Africans in the last civil war. But constant arguing and bickering in the halls of power had stalled any progress in the 99th year of the 1800s.

Christian was pulled from his thoughts by Harrison and forced to engage in more conversation with the dreadful man. The pair made a circuit around the plantation and as they slowly approached the house once more. With Harrison humming to himself up ahead, Christian leaned forward and whispered “I am sorry, and I thank you very much dear… I'll make it up too you.”

The whole ride his mind had turned to thoughts of how to free Thorn, so that she may never have to endure such things. As the first son, he had large funds at his disposal and since he had never taken to gambling or drinking much. It had never really been used, he had invested in the funds mostly.

As they dismounted Christian saw the house servant bring out the paper and pen. Harrison signed the contract In a flurry of pen stroke, and rolled it up sliding it back into a document tube holding it out to Christian. Who for a brief Flash viewed it as if it were a snake, and then took it as he masked the emotion once more.

“I'd say our business is concluded then, Mr Christian.” Harrison said politey like it was a dismissal, but Christian didn't move as the man turned away.

“Not quite yet Sir, I'd like to inquire about purchasing Thorn. She's a fine mount and would do splendid on our estate.” Chistian felt Bile in his stomach as he spoke, it felt wrong to say such things. But for the sake of another thinking being he could swallow his pride, and his wallet.

Harrison halfway up the steps, turned and regarded the man with a raised eyebrow. Turning, Harrison looked over at Thorn then back at Christian and shook his head. “No”

Christian set his jaw “300 dollars”

The man snorted and Christian looked back at Thorn and swallowed any pride he had. “500 dollars”

That sum brought a smirk to the man's lips, “you have a deal, Mr Christain.”

Harrisons servant hastily disappeared and returned with a bill of sale, and Christian wrote the check. Both signed their names on copies and then Harrison shook the young man's hand.

“I look forward to seeing you again boy in 4 years for another contract.” The man said, smiling like the devil. Christian gripped the man's hand firmly and shook back, maintaining his false smile. “Of course good sir, but I must leave now. I have a long road ahead of me.”

“Of course, safe travels sir!” Harrison called and the stable hand gave the reigns to Thorn, who in turn politely lowered herself again. Guiltily Christian boarded her and she walked him toward the front entrance, her steps slow and reluctant. Too where the coach he had taken was waiting to return him to the hotel near Savannah.

As they drew near a sweet lilting voice reached his ear, and he almost jumped out of his skin. Until he realized it was Thorn’s own voice and he looked down at her leaning to the side so he could more easily see her face when she turned her head.

“I would prefer to carry you, instead of walking behind the cart…. master.” she added the last bit and he felt terrible being referred to as such and with no one in ear shot, he responded softly.

“I am not your master dear Thorn, I intend on freeing you of your contract once we return north. I do not wish to OWN someone, it is a horrid thing beyond imagination.” she stopped mid step and he was jolted a little in the saddle not prepared.

“do… do.. you… you must lie.. dragons can not be free.. You only wish… You wish… To separate me from my sister” she spoke in a wretched voice that cracked with emotion, her head craned around to look back at the plantation. The way she spoke, the raw emotion laid bare to him was like a hammer blow to the heart. If Christian could have afforded it he would have bought both. But now he wondered if what he had done was more of a tragedy then a good.

“Dear Thorn, you can take talon to me if I do not fulfill my promise. For my father would take a pistol to me if you did not. On my honor I will find a way to free her also, I would have today if I were a richer man.” He spoke with a conviction that the dragoness had not heard in a man, though he held it strong in his voice. Emotion lining his voice and making it rise almost enough that the couchman might hear.

“Now tell me, why would you wish to carry me? I am but a burden that can ride in a wagon.” he spoke lower as they got closer to the cart. Christian not wanting any longer to be acting as though he was her owner.

Thorn responded in a low hiss. “The wheels toss up rocks at my head, they force me to be lashed to the back. We can not be… secured in some manner…”

Once she said it, it almost seemed obvious and as they approached with him on dragon back. With no luggage aboard the carriage he simply flipped a coin to the driver and tipped his hat. The man nodded and rode off at a faster pace than the pair, and once they were alone again Christian Finally swung his leg over to step off, and she looked back at him quizzickly.

“What are you doing?” her sweet voice once again taking him off guard as she tilted her head to regard him as if he were the strangest man on earth.

“Ummm.. getting off you, I do not wish to burden you with my weight dear.” He said as she stopped walking and he dropped down onto his feet so he may walk beside her. He had no urge to be a burden and use her as a mere beast of burden. In his mind she was to be free as soon as possible, he didn't expect obstinateness from her in this regard. But yet this was what he was getting which completely perplexed the young man as he was standing beside her now fixed in her strange heterochromatic gaze. One which could entrance any man, and he almost started as he realized he had been trapped in her gaze for more than half a minute.

She snorted at his excuse dismissively “and how long was your ride here, master?” He was sure she said the last bit to get under his skin, and it worked a little.

“My name is Christian thank you, please do not address me as master. The only master I am is of my own self as you are your own now. And if you may know thirty minutes or so.” he said bristling, though calming a bit as he answered her question. While her head tilted and then she regarded him with a toothy smile that sent his heart almost to his throat making him regret his tone.

“Well, Christian… it would be a almost three hour walk… in those shoes?” She said as a talon pointed down at his dress shoes, the hard unyielding dress shoes. Which made him grimace as he realized his mistake at calling the cart driver away.

“Oh dear, you do have a point Ms. Thorn… but I must endure some discomfort in life.” his words drew another snort from the dragoness and she turned to face him, her head dipping low to look into his eyes. Her mouth full of razor sharp teeth so near to him that a bead of nervous sweat formed on his brow. He silently thanked the South Georgia heat for hiding it amongst too many others of its kind that he hoped he did not seem too weak before her.

“You will end up being carried by me anyway, in this heat you will fall ill. Then where will I be, Mr. Christian?” Her voice rang with reason and logic and he was forced to give in. His argument was untenable as she was right, if he were to fall ill or pass out from the heat someone could very well declare her the cause and take her away. She must have seen his change in some way, that signaled she had won and lowered herself.

“Besides, you are not as fat as that old man, I could carry your weight forever. Do not think of me as a weak helpless female.” she said in her lilting sweet accented voice, and with a final sigh of resignation he climbed up into the saddle just forward of being between her shoulders.

“Come now ‘master’ Christian, shall we be along our way?” She said in a sweet teasing voice that put a degree of emphasis on that dreadful word. Causing Christain to sigh and deflate, before responding with a.

“we shall.”

He himself looked back at the plantation that slowly was swallowed up by the forests of pine. A little guilt in his heart at not being able to free them both, but a fire burning to make right on his promise.

—

The two reached the town in the late afternoon after a 2 hour trot by dragon back. Leaving Christain’s behind not more than a little saddle sore, and he stretched after climbing down from her back. The dragoness was taking water from a horse trough as though she was one of them.

Christian was annoyed at the sight and would have said something if he were not near company that would find his words more than somewhat seaduicus. The south did not appreciate northerners taking ‘resources’ as they referred to dragons away from them.

Christian went to leave her side to enter the inn he has been staying at when a gruff older man held an arm out. Baring his path, and nodded to the dragoness. “Please secure her reins, good sir” the man said in a strong tone that didn't make it a request to be denied.

Christian nearly bristled with anger and turned to do so, the dragoness having lowered her head already so he may lash her to the post like some common horse.

As Christian once again went to slip past the man, the older man grumbled a degrading insult, and Christian who had been holding himself in check under the pressure of business now blew. His face no longer was a kind businessman’s face but that of rage. His thick Irish accent slipped free as he turned to the man, snarled at him.

“repeat that again yea bastard? Maybe say it with ya chest this time?” he snarled, while Thorn watched wide eyed from her position near the post. Christian didn't care if he made a scene at this point, and he had enough showing himself as some trim and proper businessman. Which he was, but he was also a boy who didn't necessarily grow up in the status that he now held.

The man didn't know this and pushed off from the wall spitting a wad of chew away, and looking down his nose at Christian. The man was a head taller then the young Irish merchant, and was thickly set from some form of constant manual labor.

“I said your a fucking ignorant brat, who needs to learn his place” the man snarled out his words and grinned at the young man, probably thinking his imposing form would scare away Christian. But as an O’Donelson he was told that if he ran from a fight, it would be his own father who he would face. For being a coward would sully the family name that his father worked so hard to build from nothing in the Americas.

“oh, and some dumb bastard like you is gonna educate me eh? How high can you count? To three?” Christian sneered at the man, and the larger man shoved him back and reared his arm back for a wide swing.

Christian recovered well, and ducked under the telegraphed swing. And punched with a full twist of his body into the man's gut, the man hunched and backed up. Leaving Christian grinning only for that smile to be knocked away by a jab that felt like a hammer blow to the face.

Christian staggered backwards, and instantly the man was on him, Christian fought back and found himself shoved back down the short step from where he was on the porch. The man was atop him and rearing an arm back to hammer down on Christian’s face. When a paw slammed into the man's chest toppling him like a child's toy.

The Black and orange mottled foreleg and paw bared down on the man, followed by a threatening hiss as Thron bared her teeth savagely in a manner that made even Christian almost flinch. The man went from bold and brash to screeching for Christian to call off his ‘pet’.

Seeing as the man had thrown the first punch, and accosted Christian before a crowded street. Onlookers were staring on in horrid fascination as they watched Thorn hold the man down, talon pricking at his flesh through his shirt. drawing droplets of blood around the tips of the black claws. Her five talons held back but could easily end the man where he lay. Seeing as the man had started the fight, she would surely be in her right to protect her owner. Not that it wouldn't be dragged through courts and argued over by lawyers.

“Thorn! Release him!” Christian ordered sternly, and the dragoness held the man for a moment longer before snapping her jaws threateningly as she released the man, and shoved him further away with a heavy paw. Her wings probably would have been mantled if thick leather straps did not keep them restrained. Christian climbed to his feet, dusting himself off and wiping blood from his face as the other man got to his feet and disappeared away. The crowd dispersed as the free entertainment died away, and Christian walked over to Thorn shaking his head clear.

The dragoness nosed at him and flicked her tongue out, licking away some of the smeared blood from his nose. Her voice no longer sweet but a deep growl in her throat, though still laced with concern that surprised Christian.

“You are hurt…” she rumbled out and he saw her head flick back to where the man had fled, her nostrils flaring with anger. Before a hand patted her neck and she returned her gaze to Christian.

“Oh I've had worse, I wouldn't have won but I'd have given as good as I got.” he said as he stroked her neck, while Thorn gazed down at him with her different colored eyes. Before snorting at him, in a gesture that signaled her doubt.

“from where I stood he was about to beat you into the dust” she spoke and Chistian smiled at her, before patting her cheek warmly.

“I'm going to go inside and get you a stable to stay in, don't eat anyone while I'm gone.” he said with a cheeky smile, his voice less accented now. More proper Queen's English ensued from him.

Christsin wiped the remainder of the blood from his face with a handkerchief, warding off the licks from Thorn with his free hand keeping her snout turned away from him. Though her tongue still tasted the air and her rumbling growl had subsided to a low warning rumble when he left her.

The innkeeper was kind enough to take some extra coin, and give the dragoness two stables worth of space for half the price since it was slow that week.

Christian led her behind the Inn to the paddocks and brought her into the large stable. He eyed her harness and reins, and he went to take it off before she moved away. He let out a frustrated noise and stepped closer again to grasp a buckle only to in surprise find himself roughly pinned to a wall. Thorns eyes glaring down at him, and she rumbled out a steady low growl. Christian went pale and stammered, the paw was gone as quickly as it had come.

“I don't wish to have you fumbling all over me trying to put it back on in the morning, you obviously know nothing of dragon harnessing.” though instead of retreating Christian stepped back to her side and grasped the heavy buckle that kept the strap over her wings. She almost bared her fangs at him.

“just the wings free… that's it” he spoke soft and calming, though she didn't look away from him, and he slowly popped the buckle free. Sliding the oiled buttery leather through it and releasing the wing. Which Chistian watched in awe as it unfurled elegantly, like an aristocratic women's fan. Six wing spines spread to show the black gray membrane that was her wings as she unfurled it. He moved to the other side releasing that wing and it unfurled as much it could in the confines of the horse stables.

“I'll see to it that someone brings you food” he said as he backed away, still watching her flex her wings. They looked to shake and tremble almost, like a man on unsteady legs. Which only made his blood boil at the thought of what she must have been through. Tomorrow they would be aboard his father's ship and on their way back to New York.

Christian left Thorn, the dragoness more interested in flexing and moving her long restrained wings. He left more money for the owner and the man had a stable boy go to the butcher and get a bucket of meat for her.

As the sun began to fall Christian had his own meal and retired to his room, though try as he might he couldn't sleep. He lay in bed until the moon cast silvery beams through the window. After a while more he rose and made his way down stairs. He snuck his way out a back entrance, and made his way over to the stables. He poked his head into the paddock Thorn was in and found the dragoness curled in on herself, her sides slowly rising and falling.

He was happy she could at least sleep, and he entered to find an empty bucket licked clean save for some gore in the bottom. He sat against the far wall from her and watched her, idly mapping the progress of silver shapes cast by moonlight as they wandered across the floor as time passed.

He regarded the sleeping dragoness, and wondered what he would do with her when they returned north. It would be cruel to cast her into a new society she had no notion of, especially without her sister. She would be poor, alone, and miserable. At some point as his thoughts wandered and drifted Christians eyes grew heavy. His head began to lull, and his chin dropped against his chest. Sleep finally took hold of him, and pulled him into dreamland.

Though his dreams were vivid, and so alive he could not recall then the following morning. The images slipping from his mind before it could tiredly regard them with any logical thought. Also the warmth and weight settled over his legs was distracting. He reached down to move the covers only to find the head of a dragon across his thighs, black and orange mottled markings across its body. Which caused his blood to run cold, him to freeze with horror.

Then the memory of the previous day came rushing back and he rested his head against the stable wall. The sky was just starting to grow light, casting dark shadows through the stables.

The puffiness in Christian’s face had subsided and he could easily guess that he was left with a nasty bruise across his cheek and nose. He reached and hand up to probe at the soreness of the injury and winced in pain. Lowering his hands to idly pet the dragon's head that was now in his lap.

A warm happy rumble soon filled the air, and vibrated his legs gently, he closed his eyes as he repeated the motion of stroking her snout and head.

His thoughts wandered to the future, it was the sixth month of the final year of the nineteenth century. He wondered if he would ever see human society finally righted in the Americas. They freed men of color, but yet still chained thinking creatures that weren't humans. Solely because they weren't human, and claimed all laws made by man only applied to man.

His father was running in the next election for representative in their state, part of a new movement that was sweeping Republican spheres. Called The Scales of Liberty, he remembered his father bringing home some of the pamphlets. Christian saw the stylized scale held by a blind folded lady liberty with a sword in one hand, and the scale in the other.

On the scale was a man and dragon, both perfectly level, and equal. Inscribed In a banner below was “May God set us free.”

The sword represented the parties will to fight, though very few had spoken of force of arms being used. The country still bitterly remembered the last war. The south being the sore losers they were, and the north still remembered the cost in blood that was paid.

He was broken from his thoughts as Thorns jaws opened in a wide yawn, her forked tongue curling and rows of wicked teeth glinting with the morning light. Before closing with a clack, as she lifted her head up to regard Christian.

“Well good morning to you too Ms. Thorn” he said and heard her rumble happily, tilting her head up to regard the lightness of the sky.

“Where are we off to next?” She asked softly, and Christian tilted his head to look at the morning colors in the sky.

“To the port, my father uses an old Brig for trading, she should be loaded by now with the cotton on contract and awaiting our arrival.” As he spoke she stood up quickly, her eyes now wide and alert. All traces of sleepiness gone as they sparkled with excitement. Which in itself was infectious enough to bring a smile to Christians lips as he got up, now free of her head.

“Oh! Then why are we waiting?” She chirped happily with excitement, and he chuckled at her excitement. He patted her neck gently before stretching. Though the eagerness was quick to disappear when she let out a pained whine. “Rose would have loved to ride on a ship….,”

The dragoness’ voice trailing off in a sad melancholy, that sucked any joy from his heart. Drawing back the memory of parting the two.

“She'll be free, one day Thorn” he spoke softly while petting her neck. The dragoness nodded her head and nudged his side firmly, almost knocking him over. He looked back at the inn and spoke softly.

“Wait here I must collect my bags and then we will leave.” he said before he quickly departed back to his room packing the two bags quickly. He stopped by the innkeeper and paid his tab and then returned to the stables.

He opened the gate for Thorn to come practically bounding out before turning and lowering herself for him to get on. “come now it'll be faster”

Christian looked at his two bags and then to her and shook his head, only for her to let out a frustrated hiss at him which ruined any argument.

“fiiiine” he moved over to the rear of the harness near her hindquarters and started to lash the bags on using the existing ties for saddlebags. Then climbed up into the harness, and settled in place. As soon as his butt hit the saddle she was off and moving toward the harbor, following the scent of salt water on the breeze.

Christian only had to give her a few guiding tugs toward the correct streets, and soon they were entering the dockyard.

“there!” Christian said as he pointed toward a docked ship, it's sails furled and secured. As they trotted up to the gang way, a deep booming voice made Christian shrink down in saddle on himself.

“Christian! What is the meaning of this!?! You will come up here and explain yourself at once! For God's sake dismount that poor creature at once!” The last part came out as a fierce snarl, a blue draconian head, with black scales running across the top was glaring down at him from the rear quarter deck. The drake’s eyes glaring at him with unconcealed disappointment and anger.

Christians heart jumped into his throat, the man about launched himself from the saddle like he had sat on a burning coal. His foot caught in a stirrup and he went down hard on his right shoulder before his foot slipped free. Thorn stepped between him and the drake's withering glare. Her wings mantled and baring her fangs, defending the very person to give her freedom, and had promised to one day free her sister.

Christian didn't remain laying on the ground for long, and rose back to his feet urging the growling dragoness to go up the gangway. Which she did only reluctantly, while her eyes never left the blue drake. Then started to flick between Christian and the strange new drake once on deck.

“it's not what it looks like Avon.” Christian pleaded as golden slitted pupils bore into him, his father's business partner and friend studying him with a savage gaze. Then softening when he looked at the dragoness a whole foot and change shorter than him at the shoulder teeth bared.

“Oh Dear… pray tell me you did steal her?” Avon asked with worry in his tone, and the drake was already swinging his head to look back over the docks.

“No he bought me! Fairly!” Thorn growled out deep In her throat before Christian could respond. The drake looked her over and then hummed.

“Christian… What did I tell you about purchasing women?” The drake said with a toothy grin now, the anger fully leaving the male's golden eyes.

Christians cheeks burned a hot red and his jaw dropped open as horror was Written across his face. “I DIDN'T… NO..” he stammered in horror at the insuation.

Avon tipped his head back letting out a rawkus laugh at the Christians expense, and the young man squirmed and adjusted his clothes straightening his jacket and shirt.

The drake tilted his head and smiled as he looked over the two, “Well now that you decided to join us the crew can set sail and we can return to a more civilized place”

The ship's captain was already in the process of readying the ship, having assumed this was happening, the second Christian had come aboard. Amused seamen scurried about as they started unfurling top sails and used long sticks to guide the ship away from dock after casting off the lines. The wind had shifted that morning to a perfect wind out to sea, so the brig didn't require a steam tug to guide her out.

Christian started to remove his bags from Thorns harness and produced a small blade from one, and started cutting straps of her harness. The dreadful thing he had been forced to ride during his first meeting with her, while listening to her former owner preach the wonders of slave labor to him.

Working the sharp blade carefully between hide and leather before pulling up and slicing another strap free. Thorn Let out a surprised squawk at first and swung her head around to watch him. Her wings flaring with surprise but she didn't pull away. When Christian had sliced The final strap the snaked up between her tail and the back of her hind the harness fell away. Clattering to the deck and Christian patted her side checking to make sure he hadn't nicked her with the sharp blade. A little worried at first but was relieved to find her hide uninjured.

Christian smiled sheepishly “I've been wanting to cut that damn thing off you since yesterday. Now you can't be forced to carry some Human around.”

Thorn spread her wings wide at the same time the main sails fully Unfurled, and Christian smiled at the beautiful sight of Thorn with wings at full extension happy and free.

Excerpt from The History of Scaled Struggles

It was in the late months of 1899 that the Republican Scales of Freedom party came to fruition. The sub party made solid gains in the house and some seats in congress. The first act of the newly elected House of Representatives members was to write up a new law. That law written by the newly appointed majority leader of the house representative O’Donelson was an oddly named Thorn Act. The law which forbade any further importation of dragons under slavery or financial contract to United States ports.

Though this law is also the straw that broke the camels back, from this law the south was put on notice that the union states would not only settle for the freedom of just the black man. But instead the freedom of all being capable of self government. While the Thorn Act was in progress, southern states formed their own shadow government. Beginning to set in motion a ball that could not be stopped. They began also building state funded and ran hatcheries purely for breeding new stock for labor.