Over the weeks—weeks, now, because Thæon is still here, curling into the crook of Anther’s neck each time they lay down to sleep each night; nuzzled against him each morning when he wakes to welcome in a new dawn—the pair of them taking to the forest more and more, exploring further and further each day.
Sometimes, they two of them will walk side by side, embracing the peace of the forest, and sometimes Thæon settles comfortably behind Anther’s horns as the dragon carries them across tumbled rocks, fallen trees and the creeping undergrowth that tries to reclaim the glades once more.