Velkaris was on the far end of the dragon field, sprawled in his favorite spot, golden scales catching the afternoon light.
He lifted his massive head when Onyx approached, and something softened in the dragon's posture.
Onyx tripped over his own tail, on his way. He was a baby and still looked at the world with enormous golden eyes that expected it to be kind to him.
He chirped when he saw Velkaris, and bounded toward the larger dragon with the uncoordinated enthusiasm of a puppy greeting its favorite person. Velkaris lowered his head and let Onyx headbutt his jaw, which Onyx did with enough force to rattle his own skull. He shook it off, peeped again, and climbed onto Velkaris's foreleg.
Velkaris permitted it. The way an old lion permits a cub to gnaw on its ear. Patient. Tolerant. Vaguely amused.
The training for Onyx today was simple in theory: hunting.
