It felt like Zale had blinked, and suddenly the room was full of dragons. Four hatched at once, spilling out colorful dragon-babies who squawked and screeched and made a fuss until they realized what had happened and got their bearings. Then another four, the last of the clutch, all hatched at once, as well, spilling out more little dragons who made even more noise and darted en masse towards, and then around within, the candidate bunch. Zale nearly got his feet trampled on more than once, and he felt bewildered, now, at the speed of it all.

Whatever energy had carried him from his room to the hatching bay had left him now, and Zale was starting to feel like he'd been buffeted by some unseen wind-- or worse, coming down off of one of the darker drug highs he'd experienced before. Whatever made him think he could handle hatchings and dragons and people, it was gone now, and his hands were starting to shake. The dragons calling to each other, the candidates' all but palpable excitement, the eyes of the hundreds of people-- well, maybe more like dozens, but it felt like hundreds!-- who had made it into the audience... well, it was more stress than he'd been allowed to put up with since he'd gone through his first month of detox.

No wonder Cothran would have said no-- he probably would know it would be like this--

The bears were gone, a human was gone, and the spiney dragon had just been chosen. There were a variety of other candidates left, and only three dragons. Any hope or confidence he'd had about going through with this had fled, and now all he wanted was for it to be over so he could go back to his boring struggle of a life; at least that was familiar.

I bet no dragon will want anything to do with a crack-case-- who's going crazy just standing here-- wishing this were some crazy drug-dream instead of--

: ... Zale?:

Zale just about jumped out of his skin-- or, it felt like he did. He might have just blinked. There, staring up at him, was a shimmeringly silver baby dragon, larger than the other hatchlings but somehow more dainty, marked with white lightning that seemed to glow even against her damp, shining hide. She was staring up at him with an expression that might have looked as stunned as his felt like it should be, or might have been awe, or might have been relief. Or might have been them all. The feminine voice that sounded between his ears, rather than in them, was hers. And she'd been staring at him for a few seconds now, he just had been too distracted to notice. As he looked back down at her, meeting green-flecked hazel eyes, her cheeks rose and her jaw gaped in a gentle-looking approximation of a smile. No dragon had ever smiled at him before. It was a rather heady feeling.

:Zale, I'm yours.:

If the smile had been heady, the sudden rush of warm affection, empathy, and understanding as the silver dragon made her bond with him was enough to make him dizzy. His hands were trembling even more, now, but for once, he didn't mind, and it seemed that neither did she. It seemed a very small concern, compared to the enormity of-- her. She sat back and laid one delicately fingered forepaw on his knee, a touch that finalized her decision and the bond, and declared to the other candidates that claim had been laid, as well. Not only was she his, but he was quite undisputedly hers.

:Thank you,: she sent simply, apparently picking up on the thought even though he hadn't said anything-- no complaint from him, because if she could do that, he wouldn't have to fumble to put actual sentences together. Her own words were relieved, as if she'd been afraid he might reject her, and pleased, presumably that he hadn't. There were more shades of emotion and feeling reflected in this mode of speech, more expression, than the tone of any spoken word he'd ever heard before by anyone. Somehow she managed to keep it from being overwhelming, which it could have been; her voice seemed more like a delicate mix of flavors than any kind of emotional cluttering. :Now, um, I don't suppose we could get something for me to eat....:

"Oh... of course," Zale answered softly, blinking as he realized the hunger that shadowed her sending. There was food somewhere, fresh meat for the hatchlings, he'd seen it-- half-turning, he spotted the tables, bowls, and platters of freshly-cut red meat between the hatching bay proper and the doors out. The little dragon was already trotting towards them, and after a moment to shake himself into motion, Zale hurried to follow. Or, he meant to hurry; she slowed enough for him to just drift dazedly after her, looking over her shoulder with another dragon-smile and a fuzzy cloud of affection. He smiled, back, though he had no idea how to project what he was feeling the way she did.

:Oh, you don't have to think about it, really,: she admitted shyly. :I'm not thinking about it, either. Not trying to. It just kind of happens, you know? Because we're bonded.:

Oh. Well, that... kind of made sense.

:Oh... I guess I'm not very good at explaining yet... I'll try to get better.: The apology in her voice and mind, chagrin and disappointment at his lack of comprehension, was obvious, almost painfully so, along their brand-new link. He sped up enough to meet her, running a trembling hand over her smooth, round head.

It's all right, it did make sense, I'm just a little slow sometimes, he thought, figuring that if she could pick up on emotions, she should be able to hear his thoughts, too. Her immediate agreement with the surmise, wordless, and her love at his reassurance, proved that she could.

:Then lets hurry up and eat!: she said, the sound of her voice now cheerful, and still hungry. Zale chuckled a bit, and followed where she led. She kept pausing to usher him forward with head or wing, making sure he was still following and rubbing her muzzle against his leg fondly. That she could be so happy to have him, so loving and accepting, when she'd only just met him less than five minutes ago-- less than one minute ago! everything was moving so quickly!-- was astounding. That he could, in so brief a time, return the feeling so completely was even more so. If he didn't know better, he'd think he was high.

:Only if it's high on me,: he heard almost sharply-- and he got the sense that she knew exactly what "high" meant, and reacted to the concept as if she'd taken an overview of his life in her first few seconds of life bound to him. Which, for all he knew, she might have. 

It's just... a comparison, he answered, a little surprised, and she immediately nuzzled him again.

:All right.:

It had all happened so fast, and now they were standing in front of the large Farahan wolf in charge of the records of the station. Zale knew who he was, though now his name escaped him, and he certainly knew what he was doing here. He was supposed to give their names, his own and his new bond's-- and he nearly panicked, because he realized he didn't know the dragon's name.

And then, suddenly, he did. There were no words, but somehow Wiro made her name known, along with an apology. Dutifully, he repeated it to the canine Archivist: "Wiro." Fond amusement, from Wiro, and he added by way of explanation, "That's her name."

:And you are?: the dragoness prompted with a mental giggle.

"I'm Zale." There, that should be clear enough for even a dragon.

"Right," the Archivist said, lips curling into a small grin. "Now go off and feed her."

While Zale was still trying to decide if he was being condescending or just helpful, Wiro had already guided him past the Farahan and towards the food.

Chapter Four

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