Pocket Hole : A little bundle of joy trouble. (WAFF) [Episode 63371]

by Greyman

She had emerged from her egg a viscous beast, convinced that she was a mistress of the night and ready to take on the world.

The goblins soon disabused her of that notion.  The tiny hatchling had speed, cunning and power on her side, but the goblins were numerous, wicked and cruel.  They had not allowed her the chance to use her untested advantages.  She was caged, starved, beaten and just plain tortured for an uncountable eternity of pain.

She was roused out of her misery by the sound of fighting, and the delightful squeals of goblins in pain.  Then an unnatural quiet fell over the encampment.  No sound of goblins arguing among themselves or torturing prisoners.  Just the distant patter of little feet as they ran for their lives.

Then the biggest, ugliest goblin thing she'd ever seen poked its head right up to her cage.  Which would have been a stupid thing to do.  However she had learned that delivering a face full of acid might eliminate one foolish goblin, but it only earned her more severe beatings from the survivors.  And there were always more goblins.  Instead she just cowered back as far into the cage as she could.

Her new captor jabbered in a strange language, one quite different from the harsh goblin tongue, then grasped the sides of the cage and ... tore it appart with its bare hands.  She was momentarily too stunned to think of fleeing for she'd often battered herself into bloody mess trying to break free of her cruel iron prison.  Then she spread her cramped wings, bugled her exhalation in her new found freedom and ... flopped onto the floor.

She'd never learned to fly and her wings were to weak to try.

Suddenly the creatures hands were on her, firm but strangely gentle, as it lifted her up.  She struggled against it's enormous strength, tried to rend its flesh with her claws and teeth but due, to her poor condition and clipped claws, the effort was feeble and merely earned her a gentle rap on the muzzle.  Only that.  It was a feeble punishment compared to the torments devised by her goblin captors.  It was curiosity and surprise that took the fight out of her.  For, while the creature's handling grew firmer, it remained gentle!  It almost seemed to be trying to sooth her distress.

The creature made its way to the fireside and poked at the spit.  Her mouth watered at the smell of burnt flesh.  Whatever had been roasting on the spit wouldn't have the brine pickled flavour she longed for, but starvation was spice enough for her taste.  She did not take advantage of the loosening grip as the creature picked up a knife to sliced off a strip.  When held it up to her.  She snapped the morsel up eagerly, only slightly disappointed that the creature's fingers evaded her snap.  Then the creature continued to offer up some more and she gorged herself.

Finally replete from her feast she simply settled down to watch when the creature set her down on a pallet.  Whatever it was, it no longer seemed quite so ugly to her.  It had chased away the nasty-bad goblins, liberated her from the cage, and fed her.  When she snapped at its hand as it reached out to scratch between her horns, she put no effort into the act.  The concept of play was foreign to her but it felt strangely un-painful to let the creature dodge her lazy attack.

Next the strange creature stood up and spread something against a wall.  She had to squeeze her eyes tight from the painful brightness that flooded the cavern.  When the creature lifted her once more and began to carry her towards the light, she renewed her struggles.  The creature scolded her softly, but seemed to get the message and set her back down.

Then it stepped through the hole and the brilliance began to dim.  She sighed in satisfaction that she was finally being left alone.

Alone!  In the dark!  Where the goblins were!

That was how she learned to fly!  Or near enough to it.


Ranma dropped onto his back as the pitch black creature slammed into his chest.  "Whoops!  Heh.  Looks like you decided to come with me after all."  The poor creature's eyes were squeeze shut and it cried pitiously.  "Guess you're not used to the light, huh?  Poor thing."

Cradling it in his arm, he tucked the portable hole into his pocket, then took a good look at the tiny creature in the daylight.  It was some kind of winged lizard with small, glossy scaled of dull ebony and dark grey, but its hide was mared by old scars and fresh cuts.  The wings were torn and twisted.  The tattered remains of a spinal crest ran down along the beast's long neck and broken stubs of horns jutted from its temples.  The dark head looked remarkably skeletal, partly due to the deep sockets around its tightly closed eyes and the wide, flat opening of what should have been a toothy maw, but mostly due to the unnatural degree of emancipation.  The poor wee beast was gaunt from starvation.

All in all, Ranma thought that it looked decidedly uncute, whatever it was.  However, with a little work it could turn out to be... quite strange, but nice just the same.

It never occured to him to think of her as a dragon; he'd met the Orochi and thought he knew what dragon's looked like.

"You know, if you're to stick around, I'm going to need to call you something.  So, what's your name then?"

"Trr," she whimpered and tried to burrow under his shirt.

"Uhm... Tarre?" Ranma tried.  "Okay, Tarre it is then!  Hey, watch those claws!  Okay, okay, let's get you into the shade."

Picking himself up, he looked around.  Now that his eyes had adjusted to the light there was only one thing he could say.  Which was: "Where the hell am I now!?"

It seemed that plane shifting was an inexact science - magic or whatever.  Though he'd only moved the hole a few hundred feet in Tarre's underworld, it had taken him to:

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(Posted Fri, 15 Aug 2003 03:43)


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