Len left his clothes on a rock and waded into the surf until it was up to his hips. His long tail slithered through the water while the waves moved up his torso and rolled onto shore. The blue of his skin was a deep, royal shade and patches of his body were covered in thicker hide, some of it scale-like. There was ridges of bone flowing halfway down his spine and over the edges of his shoulders and hips. A formation of these ridges climbed up from the base of his tail to the lower 3 vertebrae. His chest and belly were smooth with darker markings, some followed the curve of his ribs or waist and down his thighs. There were other marks, mottled scars from the abuse he'd taken from his father over the years. Lighter blueish-purple gashes marring his body.
If he's noticed Mick he pays no mind to him, too busy washing to care about someone watching him bathe. He'd gone so long with people looking at him like he was a monster, an abomination, that he was ugly or disgusting. It was refreshing to have someone look at him with fascination and wonder. To know that Mick might find him attractive to look at was a compliment he'd never admit.
Once through he'll lay naked on a rock to dry off, soaking in the heat of the sun for as long as he could stand it. He'll then slip into his clothes, fastening the back of his pants around the girth of his tail, tying his shirt, slipping on a vest, his cloak and carrying his boots till he was out of the sand. He'll come back to spot Mick basking on a rock, grab a waterskin and head into town with the promise he'll be back within an hour or so.
He's just having a look around and maybe pop in to talk to a few people to find out information. At least, that was the plan at first.
As it turns out Magic was banned from the town, so at least he could assume his Father's influence didn't hold much ground here. That wasn't to say he didn't have eyes and ears about, as he was warned by a trusted source he met at the tavern. He caught some unfriendly attention though and quickly left. Unfortunately he was followed and before long he was exposed as he attempted to escape, hood falling back as he's shoved and dodges around thrown fists. The ruckus gathers the attention of some locals and weapons are brought into the fray or rocks thrown.
Len does what he can to try and defend himself with just his wits and a knife, but he's battered and thrown to the ground. One man bears down on him and in desperate attempt to save himself he throws magic at him, spattering his face and upper body in frost and ice. He suffocates and that only serves to rouse the anger of the crowd. He's kicked and beaten, one man even manages to stab him through the side with his sword, he barely dodges an axe as it slams into the ground where his head was. He curls into a ball, covering his head and face, tail pulled in against him as he's damn near trampled into the dirt.
Then there came a roar and in a blur of heat and leather he was saved. He's fading in and out of consciousness when Mick scoops him up and carries him off. He's limp in his arms, hearing the rumble of his voice as he reassures him and they fly to safety. He'll pass out, losing quite a lot of blood that if left un-treated will kill him.
Luckily for both of them there is a hut tucked back in the woods where a healer lives. The home permeates the air with the smell of fresh herbs and healing spices. The old man there would gladly tend to Len to save his life, instructing Mick to give him a tincture and spread salve on the wound to keep infection out. The only payment he'll ask for is Mick's hand around his home, weeding, chopping wood or other things where the old mans strength might fail him. Len needs his rest anyway.
Once through he'll feed the dragon, offering the pair to stay the night but stating he can spare no more than that. that his companion should be fine enough to travel by morning if the Dragon carries him back to their camp.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2016-09-08 12:47 am (UTC)If he's noticed Mick he pays no mind to him, too busy washing to care about someone watching him bathe. He'd gone so long with people looking at him like he was a monster, an abomination, that he was ugly or disgusting. It was refreshing to have someone look at him with fascination and wonder. To know that Mick might find him attractive to look at was a compliment he'd never admit.
Once through he'll lay naked on a rock to dry off, soaking in the heat of the sun for as long as he could stand it. He'll then slip into his clothes, fastening the back of his pants around the girth of his tail, tying his shirt, slipping on a vest, his cloak and carrying his boots till he was out of the sand. He'll come back to spot Mick basking on a rock, grab a waterskin and head into town with the promise he'll be back within an hour or so.
He's just having a look around and maybe pop in to talk to a few people to find out information. At least, that was the plan at first.
As it turns out Magic was banned from the town, so at least he could assume his Father's influence didn't hold much ground here. That wasn't to say he didn't have eyes and ears about, as he was warned by a trusted source he met at the tavern. He caught some unfriendly attention though and quickly left. Unfortunately he was followed and before long he was exposed as he attempted to escape, hood falling back as he's shoved and dodges around thrown fists. The ruckus gathers the attention of some locals and weapons are brought into the fray or rocks thrown.
Len does what he can to try and defend himself with just his wits and a knife, but he's battered and thrown to the ground. One man bears down on him and in desperate attempt to save himself he throws magic at him, spattering his face and upper body in frost and ice. He suffocates and that only serves to rouse the anger of the crowd. He's kicked and beaten, one man even manages to stab him through the side with his sword, he barely dodges an axe as it slams into the ground where his head was. He curls into a ball, covering his head and face, tail pulled in against him as he's damn near trampled into the dirt.
Then there came a roar and in a blur of heat and leather he was saved. He's fading in and out of consciousness when Mick scoops him up and carries him off. He's limp in his arms, hearing the rumble of his voice as he reassures him and they fly to safety. He'll pass out, losing quite a lot of blood that if left un-treated will kill him.
Luckily for both of them there is a hut tucked back in the woods where a healer lives. The home permeates the air with the smell of fresh herbs and healing spices. The old man there would gladly tend to Len to save his life, instructing Mick to give him a tincture and spread salve on the wound to keep infection out. The only payment he'll ask for is Mick's hand around his home, weeding, chopping wood or other things where the old mans strength might fail him. Len needs his rest anyway.
Once through he'll feed the dragon, offering the pair to stay the night but stating he can spare no more than that. that his companion should be fine enough to travel by morning if the Dragon carries him back to their camp.