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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | In the wake of a surprise hatching, Sandy seeks out the one person he knows he can trust that he can show up with a random baby animal that might be slightly illegal to have and be greeted with a warm smile -- Oranna Stormbreaker. 4500-ish words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Oranna and Bargrimm's house in Ironforge is a combination of peace and industriousness. The Wildhammer half of the Stormbreakers is at work in the shop downstairs, although the sheet of metal has been drawn over the shop front, with a [Closed] sign. The various noises drifting out from that suggest that someone might be wrestling a bear, or possibly using a bear as a counterweight for something very heavy. It's unclear.
Inside the house seems quiet. The green door has a wreath on it of the holiday season, a pretty little thing that looks from faraway like orange and green leaves. Up close it becomes clear that they are metal — copper, formed with a loving hand into the shapes, blow torched and chemically altered, to various colors.
Soon after his dragon egg hatched, Sandy stuffed the dragon in a bag, leaving it open and put on a big pirate coat over his pajamas. He left the house, ran to the Deeprun Tram towards Ironforge. He doesn't know how to take care of a newborn dragon! He's pretty sure not many people do! But if there's someone who would, it would be Oranna. At least that's what he thinks.
The dragon seems to settle easily inside the bag that Sandy is wearing backward, as if it had retained memories of the time it'd spend in there as an egg.
Soon, Sandy makes his way towards Oranna's home. The baby dragon seems bothered by the loud noises coming from the shop as it curls up inside the bag, whining. Sandy observes the wreath, letting out an "Oooh", admiring the craftsmanship, before hurriedly knocking on the door.
Then he realizes he shouldn't be knocking like that. That's why that thing is made of copper, duh! He knocks again, this time using the wreath as a door knocker.
The wreath pops off the door, coming off the hook it was on.
One more noise the whelpling doesn't seem to appreciate. Feeling extremely responsible for the fall of this clearly non-functional door knocker, Sandy picks it up, turns it around to check for damage, blows on it to remove some of the dust and rapidly tries to put it back on its hook.
The door opens, revealing a very familiar dwarf with warm brown eyes and, nosing past her because there is a strange new smell, an equally familiar giant snow leopard.
"Ach, lass, back! Yer crowdin' th' door — " Oranna nudges the leopard back with a hip and then breaks out into a bright, wide smile. "Sandy!" She's dressed in a soft blue dress, with warm winter socks and no shoes, her hair in a loose braid behind her. "What are ye, that is, why…" She laughs as she holds out a hand for the wreath. "Did it fall off again?"
Sandy, caught red handed, with his face just as red as his hands metaphorically are, slowly hands the wreath back to Oranna. "Yes, and I barely even touched it! Hi Oranna, hi Befound!" He extends a hand to try pat Befound's head. The big bag on his belly begins visibly moving as Becky (name still pending) tries to find its way out. Probably out of curiosity for the strange new smell of the leopard.
Befound moves into the hand, she is just a very large kitten, pet her and give her treats.
Oranna scoffs, and shoves the leopard in the shoulder. "Let him in, lass," she says as she takes the wreath. The leopard manages to look incredibly put out as she's forced back into the house.
"Don't worry lad, it's come off half a dozen times already. Sprocket keeps bumpin' th' door, and there it goes, jus' slidin' righ' off again an' again. I've told Bargimm we need ta…ah, well." There's a bit of a blush on her cheeks as she laughs self-consciously. "Dinnae pay it any mind." Oranna pushes the door open to stand to the side, beckoning Sandy in. "Come on in." She smiles at the bag. "Is tha' Dragon in there?"
Sandy pets Befound as long as he can before she has to move out of the way. "Don't worry, I'm glad to hear it's not just a me thing! I thought I did something wrong for a second! It's good to know it happens all the time!" He begins making his way inside. "It's, uh… not Dragon," he turns around to face her. "But it's a dragon…". As if on cue, the whelpling finally makes its way to the bag's opening and pokes its head out, staring at Oranna and cooing inquisitively.
Oranna blinks repeatedly. "It's a…wha'… ye." The shock passes quickly, replaced by a fond sort of resignation. "Oh, Sandy." Oranna sighs and closes the door behind them, setting the wreath on a little table by the door. "I know I'm migh' regret askin' this, an' I need ye ta know lad, I'm no' mad, but this isn't…ye have ta know that ye shouldn't have…" Oranna's worry line between her brows makes an appearance as she waves a hand to the breakfast table near the kitchen they stand near. "But why d'ye have a dragon baby?"
Sandy shrugs, sitting at the table and letting Becky out. The dragon slowly jumps its way out of the bag, yawns, stretches and flaps its wings. "I don't know, I didn't do anything! I got mail once which contained the egg. It told me I'd won that mysterious egg because I visited the Forlorn Caverns. It hatched this morning, I didn't know it was a dragon until then!" He clears his throat. "Although I guess that giant tooth I got in the mail some time after that letter could have been a good clue!"
"Ye…got it in th' mail?" Oranna looks at the little dragon. "Sandy, I dun even…what could ya possible have thought would…" She shakes her head. Oranna's been here too long. She knows. Of course Sandy just took the egg from the mail. "Have ye fed….ah, her?" Oranna tilts her head a little, looking. "Hm. Her, maybe, anythin' at all?"
"No, that's why I'm here!" Becky walks up towards the edge of the table, its head raised high as it searches for Befound. Sandy stares at here, making sure he's ready to act if she fell. "Since you taught me about training and raising a rat and a bird, I thought you might know how to raise a baby dragon! And maybe it's a 'her' but I don't know! I guess I'll know when it starts speaking in Common, right?" Sandy pauses. He knows the dragon will not like what he's going to be saying next. "I suggested calling it Beckyerexera, but…" It whines, immediately turning its head towards Oranna, with the saddest dragon eyes she probably has ever seen.
"Ach, well." Oranna shoos Befound downstairs with a hand as she looks sympathetically at the baby dragon. That sure is a name.
The snow leopard retreats down the stairs like she is a PRISONER. JAIL. JAIL FOR ORANNA.
Oranna rolls her eyes, and moves to a well packed cooler in the corner of the kitchen. "Dragons are carnivores, so we'll get her a wee bit o' meat, and see how she's feelin'. No' sure she's so keen on tha' name though." Oranna pulls out a haunch of…something. It looks like it's been cut up into a wolf sized piece, which means it's probably for Keane. She takes out a wooden board, and sets it on the table, placing the haunch of meat over it.
"How ye feelin' wee lil' one?" Oranna asks the dragon in a voice gone softer and a little higher pitched. "Hungry?"
Sandy nods. We're going with a 'she' for now! "I, uh… I'll think of another name, then!" Sandy watches his whelpling climbing down the table leg, flapping her wings as if about to take flight. She makes her way on the floor towards the downstairs, ready to meet her new friend… then gets distracted by the smell of food. She approaches Oranna, placing a paw on her ankle for stability as she raises herself up. "I'm doing okay," answers Sandy to a question that wasn't for him, his gaze still on the dragon and not on Oranna. "She brightened up my day a lot by hatching! What about you?"
Oranna laughs, as she leans down to gently loop her hand across the dragon's midsection, avoiding the vulnerable belly, and sets the dragon on the table as the dwarven hunter strips off a smaller part of the meat, holding it out to the dragon youngling.
Oranna looks at Sandy with that warm, fond expression. "Aye, I've been well. Have you eaten much today, Sandy? Ye do look a bit…well. I'm no' sayin' ye look bad, because ye don't! Really! Ye look fine!" Those exclamation points are really selling it, Oranna. She clears her throat, looking around the kitchen. "But, it sounds like maybe you could use a bit o' a snack and somethin' ta drink, get settled a bit, and tell me more about what's been goin' on with this egg."
The dragon throws herself forward, snapping her jaws at the piece of meat. Sandy observes the interaction carefully. He would have never thought about making small pieces of meat for the dragon. He wouldn't need those, personally, but he's not a baby dragon!
Sandy looks at Oranna with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Really I'm okay! I, uh… Things are just a little boring since I'm not working with the Squads anymore…" he pauses, his gaze back to the dragon. The pause lasts.
Oranna makes an encouraging cooing noise at the dragon, stripping off a few more pieces, and setting them down on the wooden board, gently placing the dragon near them. "Tha's a good lass."
Oranna lifts her head back up, keeping an eye on the dragon, as she gives Sandy a small smile. "Oh, aye? Taking a bit o' a break? I know what ye mean though. It's slower, when yer no' worrying all the time about what th' Company is doing in the front. Ye needed a rest, or was it somewhat else?" She looks sympathetic.
It would be hard to describe what the whelpling is doing to the meat in her plate as "chewing" as it looks more like she's messily smashing the meat in-between her teeth in the general vicinity of her mouth, spreading the food all around her. She happily coos back to Oranna, raising her head to look at her, meat falling off her mouth as she does.
"Yeah… I didn't really want to take a break! I just…" he clears his throat. "I used a spell that turned me into a demon, and the others didn't really like that, so I was asked to take a break and spend some time studying demonology with an actual teacher…"
"Ye did — " It starts to come out too loud and Oranna rapidly catches herself, making another gentle cooing noise in front of the baby dragon, peeling off more meat to offer. "Ye did what?" Oranna asks, her voice a softer almost-whisper. "Turned into a demon?" She's looking him over as though he might still possibly be transformed, the distress obvious on her face.
The dragon startles at the louder voice, then immediately goes back to what she was doing. It's amazing. The more she tries to eat the food, the more tiny little pieces of food there are on the table. It's endless! Food is magic! Sandy shakes his hands, lowering his voice to almost a whisper too. "No, no, no don't worry! It's only a temporary metamorphosis spell! I'm back to normal. I tried several times and I always go back to my human form after!"
Oranna looks like she's trying to keep up with the information, the worry line between her brows deepening, and she sighs as she shakes her head. "Is it a warlock thing then? Jus'…one o' the things ye can do now? The way Gerhold's talked about it…" She tucks some hair behind her ear, and gently pats the dragon by what might be habit or reflex. "I remember ye sayin' how yer eyes went green afore. This…this thing, it's no' making' it all worse is it? The fel comin' into ya, and gonna give ye horns or what have ye?"
Sandy scratches the back of his head. "Yeah it's an advanced warlock technique, and uh…" He sighs. "I am getting a little worried about corruption now. It's not giving me horns, though! I Just temporary ones! I learned this spell from a book!" Books are boring but safe. Everybody loves books! It makes it all better! He looks at her with a sad pout. "But you know, with that break I don't really have to worry about all this right now! I can think about the other stuff! Like my evil undead warlock mom and my really nice dad who doesn't want to see me anymore because I'm a warlock!" He adds that nonchalantly, as if she was aware of everything single thing happening in his life.
Oranna's mouth falls open, and the look of horrified concern and then anger passes over her face. "What d'ye mean he doesna want ta see ye anymore?" Her mouth is a hard line, as she shakes her head. "Ye found yer ma and da, from afore, an'…" Oranna pats the dragon again. "So, one's an evil undead warlock, an' the other…what's he got against warlocks enough ta no' want ta know his son?"
The whelpling does not concern herself with the worries of the material world. She happily accepts the pats, cooing happily, before going back to her mess food. Sandy shrinks down in his chair. "Well, I guess it's because he works with the Argent Dawn to protect the world from demons and… because his wife is an evil undead warlock… Maybe he didn't like that I lied at first and said I was a fire mage, too." He pauses. "Auralind helped me find them by doing some… divination magic, and she saw something really bad happening with a Felguard. I'm wondering if that's why he really doesn't like warlocks, too."
Oranna's worry line between her brows is about to have to apply for a permit for a canal, and she makes a tsk sound. "Tha's terrible, Sandy. I'm sorry ta hear that." She strips off another bit of meat to put on the board in a way that seems automatic, as she looks at Sandy with open sympathy. "I canna imagine anyone stayin' mad at ye fer long, lad. I'm sure he'll come around. He'll see that yer no' like the other warlocks, and ta judge ye by who ye actually are and no' what ye are, but…" Oranna looks to the right, her face paling slightly as she blinks. "Sometimes our parents dinna see us. An' they'll never stop trying ta make us into something we're not. We don't have to be that." She looks back at Sandy with a warm, soft expression in her eyes. "Yer good enough all as you are, Sandy."
Sandy listens attentively to Oranna's wisdom, a smile draws on his face as he takes what she's saying in, then, after thinking about everything for a while, it's his turn for his smile to turn into a worried frown. "Did you… was it, uh… complicated with your parents, too?"
Oranna looks down at the table. "Aye. It was. My mother wanted me ta be a front line warrior, like she was, like we'd been for a long time — us Stormbreakers. And I could never be it, no matter how I tried." She looks back up at Sandy, a sad smile on her face. "But, she's gone now, and I'm never gonna be tha'. I can only be me, and this is…" The smile grows a little brighter, some of the sadness lifting. "This is good enough, all as I am."
After listening to everything, Sandy smiles back and extends his hands to pat Oranna on the shoulder, carefully avoiding getting his arm into the pieces of meat all around the table. He seems to completely understand the situation Oranna was in. "I can't imagine you being a front line warrior! You're so much better with Befound and your gun!" He gasps. "Plus if you did become one either you, Cassea or Dane wouldn't have gotten into the Company! There were only two front line warriors when we began!" Sandy lets out a chuckle. "Imagine, you'd have taken Dane's job!"
Oranna chuckles and pats Sandy's hand on her shoulder. "An' remember, ye and Hexera were the first warlocks in the Company. An' ye know, Elo's never been over fond o' the type, and he's right picky about who he trusts as a warlock, and you are one of them. So, either yer da will come 'round, and realize the same, or he won't, but you still have a place with us, where ye belong."
Sandy nods happily. "Yeah, that's right! If I got Elo to trust me with my warlocks powers, I'm sure my dad would as well!.. Probably!" He looks at the dragon with a sad smile on his face. "I'm going to go see him soon, anyway. I hope if he decides to never trust me again, he'll at least do one last time."
"Why did ye lie about it?" Oranna asks, examining the dragon whelp with an evaluating hunter eye. "The first time, I mean. With yer da?"
"Well…" Sandy sighs. "Because of Auralind's vision, and because he's working at the Dark Portal, I guessed he must hate demons. And if he hates demons, he must hate people who summon them! Which my evil undead warlock mom did confirm it later! So I panicked and said I was doing fire magic." He fidgets with his pajama shirt. "I guess that was right."
"Oh, Sandy," Oranna says, and it's not a scold, just a sad sort of resigned sound. "I know…how tha' must have seemed, but even if he hated all other warlocks, he wasna gonna hate you from the verra start. How could he? Don't ye remember, even Dane liked ye from the very beginning, and you know he has no love fer demons or the like. Ye just have to trust in yerself a wee bit more lad. Yer a good boy, Sandy, and yer well loved just as ye are." Oranna smiles warmly at him, her eyes soft and bright with sincerity.
Sandy takes a deep breath. "I guess you're right! I'm not… Dane's son, though. Even thought that would have been a completely unexpected and really funny twist!" The dragon grabs a bite of her food, one of the many pre-chewed ones, and places it gently in front of Sandy. There is comfort in raw, pre-chewed pieces of meat. "Uh… thanks!" he answers to the gift, trying to sound enthusiastic. She runs up back to her food to do the same for Oranna, because she doesn't play favorites.
Oranna coos back at the dragon. "Oh, aye, lass aren't ye a mighty hunter in the making. I'm all full up though, dear girl, you can have it," Oranna says in a light voice, offering it back to the dragon. She looks back to Sandy with a smile. "It's a good sign, that. She's trying to share her 'kill' with her 'family.' It means she's viewing us as part of her fellow hunters. Ye can let her know that ye've had enough and let her have it. It's what her ma would be doing at this stage."
"Oh, I see!" Sandy clears his throat. "I'm sorry, little dragon, I can't eat that, I'm too full, I had too many egg—….xcelent oranges this morning!" The dragon almost seems to nod before she picks up the meat and brings it back to her very messy spot on the table. The carnage continues. Sandy observes the dragon for a second, then asks Oranna, whispering as to not be heard. "Do you think she would be… sad if I wasn't the one raising her?"
"I'm no' rightly sure, Sandy. Some things that hatch will imprint on what they see as the instinct for what they know ta have been keeping them safe in the egg, but others have no particular feeling at all. Dragons are intelligent, but…everything I've read about them says that they require a brood mother. And I don't know about green ones much at all." Oranna shrugs. "Someone is going to have ta take care of her, though. Releasing her inta the wild without knowing what she might need could jus' kill her. Not everything can thrive in the wrong place for them."
Sandy's eyes widen as he shakes his head. "Oh, no, no, no, I wasn't thinking about leaving her in the wild!" He looks down at his knees. "I was actually thinking about giving her to… someone else. I don't know if it's safe to keep a dragon, especially a baby one, near… lots of Fel magic. A fel-corrupted dragon sounds like a very bad idea!"
Oranna frowns, as she moves a hand automatically to get another strip of meat to place into the dragon's growing pile. "Yer no' contagious, Sandy. But, I'd be more concerned that it's likely ta be a full time job ta look after a dragon, especially since it's just not…common. We have three large predators ourselves here, an' it would not be a wise idea ta take on another, and a newborn one at that. She's like ta need help with molting, and grooming, and how ta hunt fer herself."
"I know, I know!" Sandy says, the volume of his voice raising up slightly over a whisper. "But even just being around Fel magic can cause a slight corruption, and if I was the one raising her, she'd be around me all the time. When I practice, or if I go back to Outland with the Squads, when I fight… We don't need 'green dragon' to mean 'demon dragon'!" He sighs. "I was thinking about my dad. He really likes animals, and green dragons are the dragons of nature, right? Maybe she'd be happy with him. And he doesn't have any other pet, he'd have time for her!"
Oranna looks skeptical. "Sandy, does he even know how ta take care of something like this? It's no just a matter of liking animals, lad. She's going to go through stages, some of which are like ta involve her shredding things ta pieces, biting when and what she shouldn't until she learns better what the behaviors are, and then…well. She's a dragon. She's going ta set things on fire." Oranna shrugs.
"I mean…" Sandy looks at Oranna, the right side of his lips curling up. "Does anybody know how to take care of a dragon?" He looks at the dragon, lost in thought for a second. "I could ask around. We've worked with Bronze Dragons before. There are people in the Company who must know them well, now. Maybe I should ask Jo! And the Night Elves too? I could research this stuff in Darnassus, keep her for a little bit, and then tell everything I know to my dad, so he can choose if he's the right person to take care of her?"
"I would go straight to the Kaldorei, aye. They know their dragons, and a druid in particular is like ta know best. I don't think Jo's going ta know anything about taking care of dragons…not that couldn't, of course, ah, I mean, I'm sure if she took an interest in it, she'd know lots of things, but I mean. Ah… she's not likely to…ah." Oranna flushes and mutters something. "What I'm trying ta say is that you should maybe ask Auralind and Nilunelle for what they might know, or if they know who would have personal experience in this. I know general things about dragons, but I've never had one myself, and that does matter for something like this. This could be a lost whelp of someone verra important, lad. She might be a stolen…dragon princess or somewhat for all we know."
Sandy blinks at Oranna's mysterious muttering. She is hiding something, or she knows something he doesn't. He frowns, thinking, piecing everything together. His eyes widen and as he takes a deep breath in realization. Jo' already got a baby dragon once that she gave away, but before that she came to Oranna, that's why Oranna knows a little bit about dragons, and she says Jo could be very knowledgeable at raising baby dragons if she wanted to. This all makes sense. As he comes to his conclusion with a mental puzzle in a shape impossible to describe because of the limits of geometry, he only catches brief glimpses of Oranna's following sentences. He still manages to get the gist of it, though. "A stolen dragon princess? Don't you think the Company would have heard of it, if a dragon princess was missing?"
Oranna blinks repeatedly, and she idly pats the dragon again. "Well, we still might, but I'm sure there's many things that happen that we dinna hear about, Sandy. Could be that they thought the egg was destroyed, not missing. Or, I dunno, they have a fake egg in its place and haven't realized the real one was somewhere else, or…well. Could be that they've been asking for help, jus' haven't gotten to Elo or Jo jus' yet."
"Hmm, I guess stealing a dragon princess and then giving her in the mail would make sense," Sandy says. "You're untraceable this way!" He gasps loudly. This time the whelping doesn't react to the loud noise. Apparently she got used to Sandy's dramatic gasps when she was inside the egg. Still, he lowers his voice just in case. "Oranna I've been framed!"
Oranna laughs, and shrugs helplessly. "Sandy, I don't know, an' I don't expect it's likely, but aye. This isna an ordinary pet, and I don't know how much trouble yer da would get in, if he had her. So, let's be smart…ah, not tha' yer not smart, I'm no' sayin' — I'm jus', ah, I…" Oranna clears her throat. "Let's do this right, and make sure we're getting the information we need ta make sure ye don't get in trouble for doin' a good thing, takin' care of this wee baby lass, a'right?"
Sandy nods. "You're right! Maybe I should ask someone like Auralind or Nilunelle, I think druids would know some things about green dragons!" The narrator lied. Sandy didn't get the gist of what Oranna said earlier, and he's now stealing her idea. Rude. "We'll… See what they think is best for her," he says, looking at the dragon, still tearing her food to pieces. There is not a lot of actual eating going on over there.
Oranna chuckles, and pats the dragon again. Good job, little dragon. You're doing great.