//------------------------------// // About Confirmation // Story: Romance is... // by Cwn Annwn //------------------------------// The dawn sun was bright and malicious; as she opened her eyes, Yona was confronted by a roiling cauldron of colours framed by swaying trees.  She wouldn’t be cowed, though, not by something she couldn’t lock horns with. Forcing her eyes to remain on the spectacle above, Yona began to assess the sensations that had joined the sunlight in creeping over her body. Her forelegs were aching, and her spine felt as though she had carried the world on her back while she slept.  A taste of iron lingered in her mouth, and a quick probe with her tongue confirmed that at least one of her teeth was loose.  Now fully awake, Yona was also becoming aware of a dull pain blooming across one of her cheeks.  It dragged a memory out of the hazy morass of her mind, one that made her lungs tingle. One of Smolder’s horns, all jagged and fierce, had sliced into it after being deflected by Yona’s.  The dragon hadn’t waited before trying again, her eyes narrow and lit by determination and exhilaration. Her breath, hot and smokey, had singed Yona’s hair. Yona grinned.  It had been a great evening. As she returned to playing with her teeth, humming a merry yak melody, Yona became aware of another sensation—a small, dense weight pressed tight against her stomach.  Smolder was still asleep, her snores cutting through the morning birdsong. A bruise was forming on her face, darkening the skin beneath her scales, and tiny streams of dried blood were snaking down her arm. Yona watched her for what felt like hours.  When she was young she had often listened to the songs of her kin during ceremonies and festivals; the ones about fighting and smashing things had been easy for her to follow, but some of the others had left her confused. Until now. Yona draped a foreleg across Smolder, finding pleasure in making the already minute distance between them even smaller. After a few moments the dragon stopped snoring. “Ouch,” she said, without opening her eyes. “Yona sore too,” Yona conceded.  “Smolder wrestles good for a dragon.” A hissed laugh escaped Smolder’s lips.  “And you throw rocks pretty good for a yak.” Yona laughed too, and immediately regretted it as pain bloomed in her chest.  She prodded at a rib and winced, although further investigation confirmed no serious damage had been done.  As silence returned to the clearing, a second ache began to join the first. Yona swallowed, wishing that the elders back in Yakyakistan had taught her about this before she had left—about how wrestling created such an ignorant bliss of certainty, and how its aftermath brought with it a terrible absence of resolution. “Does Smolder regret it?”  Yona considered it the mark of a true yak, a fearless warrior, to open herself up to the risk of serious harm to obtain the outcome she sought, but that still didn’t stop her from wanting to stuff her braids into her ears after asking the question. She had to know, though.  She just had to. “Maybe the whole using rocks part.” “Yona being serious!” Smolder opened her eyes and twisted her head around to face Yona.  The dragon’s eyes were shimmering in a way Yona had never seen before.  They still resembled the forges of Yakyakistan, but now shook and wavered, seemingly unwilling to settle on anything for more than a few seconds.  Smolder’s body tensed, and Yona felt her heart do the same. “Do you?” Yona was shaking her head before Smolder had even finished speaking.  “No. Yona wants to date Smolder.” The dragon closed her eyes and grinned.  “Sounds like we’re dating then.” She didn’t say anything more, but Yona could feel Smolder’s arms wrap around her a little more tightly, and her tail relax as it coiled around Yona’s.  The yak grinned again, before pressing her muzzle into the cool angles of Smolder’s spines and closing her eyes.