House Arrest by Foxxian (Commission)
It was a strange experience, for a dragon to be a prisoner in his own cave.
The cavern was still Hueroc's home. It still smelled like him, and no other dragon. His possessions were there, untouched, from his massive bed-cushion to his treasured hoard--although he couldn't quite get close enough to make a count of the individual gold coins. The rocky walls, the shape of the chambers, the view of the sky outside... all of these were the same familiar sights he'd long grown used to--only now he couldn't fly, he couldn't hunt, he couldn't leave the home he'd made for himself!
To his fury, it wasn't even another dragon to blame: it was [i]humans,[/i] those obnoxious, inferior little creatures. Of course he had been suspicious and ferocious and threatening when some of them had encroached on his territory and even come to the entrance of his cave, but then they had offered him a couple of jeweled silver rings they said would fit nicely on a horn if he so wished, and even presented him with a meal, freshly cooked beef that smelled oh so tantalizing all seared and juicy and coated in spices he only rarely got to taste... They were to appease him, if he would deign to allow them and their friends to cross his territory in safety, they had said, and the offer had mollified him: it was only proper for the little humans to give him tribute in exchange for permission to travel through his lands, and happy to receive the respect and deference he believed was his right he had agreed almost at once.
So enthusiastic was his acceptance that he'd eaten nearly the entire meal they'd prepared for him before noticing that the world had begun to spin around him, his movements were growing increasingly clumsy, and his thoughts--singularly focused on feeding as they had been--had slowed to a crawl. They had drugged him! But at that point, having devoured so much of the sleeping potion the humans had used to spike the meat, all he could manage was a weak growl before collapsing into unconsciousness.
When Hueroc had come to, he had discovered himself back in his cave: muzzled tightly, his paws useless within tough leather mitts, and steel cuffs on his wrists and ankles that could be used to chain his paws together if the humans chose. A steel collar, perhaps the most humiliating piece of all, had been locked shut around the base of his neck, with a stout chain linking it to the wall to keep him leashed there. The humans had remained, not that he could drive them off [i]now,[/i], and had babbled something about how securing him was necessary to ensure the safety of their king and queen as they traveled, and they could not risk passing so close to a dragon who was not secured. He'd snarled at them for it, yanked on the chain and lashed out at them with paws and tail, but it was so easy for them to just keep out of reach until he'd tired himself out.
Chained in his own bed-chamber, with no way to drive the humans out, the dragon had been forced to accept their presence, not that he was happy to do so. They brought him food and water--not drugged, this time--and occasionally tied down his wings and led him out into the woods so he could clear waste, but other than that they left him alone. A week passed, then two, and familiarity turned Hueroc's snarls and glares of defiance to irritable huffs and grumbles, with nothing to do other than pace, and occasionally nose or paw uselessly at his bonds, and wait.
He looked outside at the sky, longing, his wings rustling against his back. Oh how he missed flight, and freedom, and hunting! He wondered if the other dragons who lived nearby had received the same treatment, but even when he tried to listen in on the humans talking to each other--they had also taken up residence in his cave for the time being--it seemed they never spoke about anything useful, only gossip about other humans that meant nothing to him. "Rrrnnn..." he growled, to no one in particular, and tugged briefly on his leash, but knew well enough by now it was pointless.
One of the humans, leaning against the wall nearby--but out of his reach of course--looked up at him briefly, and seemed for a moment to begin to stand, but to his relief stayed away. That one seemed almost to be trying to [i]tame[/i] him; he certainly treated him like a pet, all soft soothing words and gentleness, and would even try to stroke his snout or neck, like he was petting a dog! And he couldn't even bare his teeth or, preferably, [i]bite[/i] in warning, the muzzle clamping his jaws tight with leather covering the whole of his maw so there was nowhere for any attempted fire-breath to escape.
Nothing to do but keep waiting, he supposed, and hope this slow-moving royalty would finally pass by soon. Heaving a sigh, he turned away from the sight of the beautiful blue sky and returned to his cushion, the one possession of his still within his reach. He didn't [i]want[/i] to nap, really, he felt restless, he wanted to fly and explore and hunt, anything to properly expend some of this pent-up energy! But instead...
He sprawled out on his cushion, stretching out all his limbs before wriggling over onto his back. Oh, it was so thick and soft and comfortable... Maybe a nice little nap would feel good, after all, he thought, his wings and legs splaying out as he settled down on his back. Maybe he would wake up and the humans would set him free at last...
Gahhhhh. This is adorable. Look at that sprawl! He must be soooo comfortable, not even minding the muzzle or the mitts or the collar, just having a nice nap on that gigantic comfy pillow C: Don't you just want to give the dragon some tummyrubs? You might even get him to purr!
This commission was done by Foxxian, in her gallery over here!
The cavern was still Hueroc's home. It still smelled like him, and no other dragon. His possessions were there, untouched, from his massive bed-cushion to his treasured hoard--although he couldn't quite get close enough to make a count of the individual gold coins. The rocky walls, the shape of the chambers, the view of the sky outside... all of these were the same familiar sights he'd long grown used to--only now he couldn't fly, he couldn't hunt, he couldn't leave the home he'd made for himself!
To his fury, it wasn't even another dragon to blame: it was [i]humans,[/i] those obnoxious, inferior little creatures. Of course he had been suspicious and ferocious and threatening when some of them had encroached on his territory and even come to the entrance of his cave, but then they had offered him a couple of jeweled silver rings they said would fit nicely on a horn if he so wished, and even presented him with a meal, freshly cooked beef that smelled oh so tantalizing all seared and juicy and coated in spices he only rarely got to taste... They were to appease him, if he would deign to allow them and their friends to cross his territory in safety, they had said, and the offer had mollified him: it was only proper for the little humans to give him tribute in exchange for permission to travel through his lands, and happy to receive the respect and deference he believed was his right he had agreed almost at once.
So enthusiastic was his acceptance that he'd eaten nearly the entire meal they'd prepared for him before noticing that the world had begun to spin around him, his movements were growing increasingly clumsy, and his thoughts--singularly focused on feeding as they had been--had slowed to a crawl. They had drugged him! But at that point, having devoured so much of the sleeping potion the humans had used to spike the meat, all he could manage was a weak growl before collapsing into unconsciousness.
When Hueroc had come to, he had discovered himself back in his cave: muzzled tightly, his paws useless within tough leather mitts, and steel cuffs on his wrists and ankles that could be used to chain his paws together if the humans chose. A steel collar, perhaps the most humiliating piece of all, had been locked shut around the base of his neck, with a stout chain linking it to the wall to keep him leashed there. The humans had remained, not that he could drive them off [i]now,[/i], and had babbled something about how securing him was necessary to ensure the safety of their king and queen as they traveled, and they could not risk passing so close to a dragon who was not secured. He'd snarled at them for it, yanked on the chain and lashed out at them with paws and tail, but it was so easy for them to just keep out of reach until he'd tired himself out.
Chained in his own bed-chamber, with no way to drive the humans out, the dragon had been forced to accept their presence, not that he was happy to do so. They brought him food and water--not drugged, this time--and occasionally tied down his wings and led him out into the woods so he could clear waste, but other than that they left him alone. A week passed, then two, and familiarity turned Hueroc's snarls and glares of defiance to irritable huffs and grumbles, with nothing to do other than pace, and occasionally nose or paw uselessly at his bonds, and wait.
He looked outside at the sky, longing, his wings rustling against his back. Oh how he missed flight, and freedom, and hunting! He wondered if the other dragons who lived nearby had received the same treatment, but even when he tried to listen in on the humans talking to each other--they had also taken up residence in his cave for the time being--it seemed they never spoke about anything useful, only gossip about other humans that meant nothing to him. "Rrrnnn..." he growled, to no one in particular, and tugged briefly on his leash, but knew well enough by now it was pointless.
One of the humans, leaning against the wall nearby--but out of his reach of course--looked up at him briefly, and seemed for a moment to begin to stand, but to his relief stayed away. That one seemed almost to be trying to [i]tame[/i] him; he certainly treated him like a pet, all soft soothing words and gentleness, and would even try to stroke his snout or neck, like he was petting a dog! And he couldn't even bare his teeth or, preferably, [i]bite[/i] in warning, the muzzle clamping his jaws tight with leather covering the whole of his maw so there was nowhere for any attempted fire-breath to escape.
Nothing to do but keep waiting, he supposed, and hope this slow-moving royalty would finally pass by soon. Heaving a sigh, he turned away from the sight of the beautiful blue sky and returned to his cushion, the one possession of his still within his reach. He didn't [i]want[/i] to nap, really, he felt restless, he wanted to fly and explore and hunt, anything to properly expend some of this pent-up energy! But instead...
He sprawled out on his cushion, stretching out all his limbs before wriggling over onto his back. Oh, it was so thick and soft and comfortable... Maybe a nice little nap would feel good, after all, he thought, his wings and legs splaying out as he settled down on his back. Maybe he would wake up and the humans would set him free at last...
Gahhhhh. This is adorable. Look at that sprawl! He must be soooo comfortable, not even minding the muzzle or the mitts or the collar, just having a nice nap on that gigantic comfy pillow C: Don't you just want to give the dragon some tummyrubs? You might even get him to purr!
This commission was done by Foxxian, in her gallery over here!
9 years ago
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