Patrick - a twelve year old boy with hopes and dreams. He hopes to be a great warrior someday, and has already adapted the attitude of the lone wolf as gospel.
Uladighn - a red-scaled dragon with a kind and giving heart. Ultimately alone due to the fear of dragons and he being the only one within the mountain. He cares deeply for Patrick, yet knows not why.
Patrick glanced at the dragon with soreness in his eyes, finding his constant chatter aggressively irritating. He returned his eyes to the view of the kingdom in the horizon; separated by thick glass and stone. And as the boy stood there with arms folded and brows collapsed, what once was a solitude of solace within the Leviarin Mountain-Pass became a crazed coupling of two beings both high in the food chain. The stale air grew staler, the small space became smaller, and the dragon's need for attention began to drive Patrick mad.
"No I'm not," he answered, stubborn and defiant to the end.
The dragon slowly made its way toward the boy, looking at him with pleading eyes. The reddened scales of his cheeks brushed against the boys own in an affectionate manner, revealing them to be as soft as a babe's skin upon contact. And though the beast's head was three times the size of the boys own lengthwise, Patrick stayed planted to the floor he stood upon, as if the weight of the dragon was of no significance.
"...You're hungry," it said again. "I can tell."
Patrick sighed and rolled his eyes, keeping them upward in an attempt to keep his eyes from making contact with the large being. "I said I'm not hungry," he retaliated in a tone close to that of a tantrum.
Such intimidation would have proved sufficient, if his stomach did not rumble throughout the passage soon after.
The boy then looked away, blushing in embarrassment upon the betrayal of his body. His nerve was strong, this was evident. Yet despite such feats of stubbornness, the boy couldn't help but to sneak a peak at the dragon by his side to see the result of his lie. When he did, he found its reaction to be just the same as any other attempt; doughy eyes with an impish smile across his maw, not necessarily gloating in the fact that it was right, but hoping he could finally be of some use. And just like every other time, he reacted to the silent plea like the child that he was.
"Leave me alone," he bellowed before storming off to the nearest corner. He took a seat and rested against the blackened stone, scratching his blonde hair before returning his arms to their previous fold.
The dragon became disheartened; the smile once on his face transforming into a pout with the lowering of its head. After a while, he took another look at the boy. His frail body could not take another day without what he could supply. Nevertheless, the decision had to be his. The horse had to decide to drink; the river's temptation could only do so much.
It lowered the bottom of its jaw on the stoney ground and closed its eyes soon after. It took in a deep breath of the cavern's stale air, and let it go in a small gust. However, what escaped its maw was not that of air, or even fire, but that of a golden hue. It swirled around and around like a smoke raptured in the wind, it took forms of physical matter. Forms of bread and greens and cooked pheasant and swine. What once was dust was now food, and the boy simply looked its way as if such miracles were common within the cavern.
The dragon raised his head slightly and looked at the boy once more; its pleading and affectionate eyes returning upon contact.