//------------------------------// // 4. Explore // Story: The Celtic Dragon // by JumpingShinyFrogs //------------------------------// I woke up actually feeling rested for the first time in I don't know how long. I wasn't cold anymore, but to be safe I stood up and munched on more of the rocks. I had to wade across the river to get to them, but it had never been a very deep river, even after rain. I had no idea why the rocks warmed me back up, but I'm pretty sure I would have frozen to death in my sleep if I hadn't eaten them. As I crunched some of the rocks, doing my absolute best to avoid thinking about what I was doing, I realised something. After my trip to the outdoor store and all the faffing around I'd done to actually get the stuff, I hadn't used any of it. I'd literally eaten a dinner of rocks (still not willing to confront that particular issue yet), and then fallen asleep on the riverbank. I could probably just dump some of this crap in town for Tina to find. Even though she hated me, I could still be nice to her. For some reason though, when I thought about giving the stuff I'd gathered to Tina, I got this strange, bad feeling. Not like, 'this will come back to haunt me' kind of bad, but more like 'I'm obviously being a greedy bitch because I want to keep this stuff even though I probably don't need it' kind of bad. I chose to ignore that feeling and just left the stuff in the pile where it already lay. Today, I was going to explore my new home as best I could. Oh sure, I loved the National Park even before I was suddenly turned into a dragon, and I was very well-acquainted with it, but I wanted to get really in-depth so that I knew every inch of it. And for some reason, I also had a desire to climb one of the mountains. Don't ask me why. So, the first part of my epic journey was obviously to head up towards Knockreer House. Which unfortunately meant a gruelling walk up a very steep hill that was usually covered in damp leaves, lying in wait to trip up an unsuspecting stroller. But, once you got to Knockreer House, there were a lot of places that were available to you. After cracking open and downing a can of some meat or another, I scrambled up the wet, slippery path, wheezing all the while, until I eventually made it up to the familiar garden. I remember I used to go to summer camp here when I was little. We used to catch mice and voles, look at insects under microscopes, and play games based around nature. We used to always knock over the sundial in the garden, but the counsellors would always forgive us because we were only around seven or eight years old. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that there were small children around me, screaming and laughing as they tried to catch insects in the hilariously named pooters or played the Owl and Mouse game. I could almost imagine I was there with my mom and dad, laughing at their antics as we went for one of our weekend strolls in the park to see if we could spot the deer. I could almost hear my dad as he pointed out some hidden animal that no one except him could possibly be expected to see. Almost. Shaking my head to clear the nostalgia and the tears that were definitely not in my eyes, I moved on. The manor was locked, but I didn't feel like breaking the old wooden doors, so I left it. There's only so much an ecology lab can offer you at the end of the world, after all. I kept walking, up a lane of trees where a bunch of bird-feeders were set up. The food in them had long been eaten, but there were still birds hanging around, patiently waiting to be fed. Some of them were singing. In the total quiet, their chirping notes were the most gorgeous music I'd ever heard. Their cheerful calls turned to terrified squawking as I walked by. I spotted something unusual in the field beyond the bird-feeders. The field would normally be empty, with only the occasional person walking through it in an attempt to take a shortcut across it. Most of the animals were scared of the big fields because they were very open and tended to have walking paths running past them. But now there was a group of deer nonchalantly grazing in the field. Some of the deer were larger, reddish brown Irish Red Deer, and some of them were the smaller, brown Sika Deer. All of them screamed in that very unsettling way that deer do and scattered once they saw me. I couldn't help but notice something in their eyes though. It was hard to describe, but their eyes seemed more...soulful? It was like they weren't just animals anymore. Like they were more than just prey for hungry dragons who were doing their absolute best not to chase them. Maybe some of them were former humans? "Hey! Don't leave!" I called after them. They ignored me. I knew I was just being stupid. I was already going insane, how wonderful. At least, until I realised that one of the deer, a red doe, had actually paused and turned to look back. She looked at me for a second before scampering off after her herd. Was I crazy? Had the doe actually considered what I said, or had she just stopped to investigate the sound? Hurrying on, I continued exploring, moving away from the man-made paths and into the wilder, densely forested parts of the park. I found that I was able to bulldoze my way through some of the foliage by using my claws, but I tried to avoid doing so because I didn't want to disturb the ecosystem. I instead chose the more laborious process of awkwardly squeezing in between trees and stepping over rocks, logs, and bushes. Occasionally I would come across a clump of bamboo that was too thick to be navigated through, and that's where my built-in garden shears came in handy. I felt a little less guilty about it because bamboo isn't native to Ireland. The woodland was alive with panicked calls from the locals as they warned one another of my presence. It was very difficult to resist the temptation to pounce on them when they were close by, but I somehow managed. Now if only I'd had that same restraint with Tina... After a while, I exited the dense forest, finding myself in another huge field. This one also had a path, but it also had herds of deer and cattle wandering around. I did my absolute best not to frighten them, trying to come across as minding my own business, but it didn't exactly work. Screaming, the deer took off, and I didn't call after them this time. The cows looked at me, mooing in an anxious manner, shifting between their hooves. Like the deer, they also had some weird intelligence in their eyes. They still looked, however, like they were considering stampeding at me, so I slunk off, away from them and over in the direction of Ross Castle. The cows glanced at each other for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to try and trample me to death. One of them slowly approached me. I don't know why, but I tensed up, like my body was preparing for a fight. The cow was massive, about the same size as me, and I was a good five and a half feet tall. As it drew closer I became tenser and tenser, until... "Moo?" I relaxed, the tension draining out of me. Why had I been under the impression that the cow wanted to fight? It was just a large herbivore that probably couldn't kill me. I sighed. "Hello to you too," I said. To my immense surprise the cow actually tilted its head slightly and mooed again, as though greeting me. Feeling incredibly stupid and slightly insane, I said, "So I suppose you and the rest of your herd have gone native. Guess you're just not as skittish as the deer. Or maybe, since you're all dairy cows, you can just tell that I used to be one of your former masters." The cow actually seemed to nod. Still feeling ridiculous, I continued. "Maybe you and your girls wouldn't mind letting me have a drop of your milk sometime, eh?" The cow was definitely nodding now. It bobbed its head up and down vigorously, mooing all the while. A chorus of moos sounded up from behind it, as the rest of the herd joined in. As strange as the whole situation was, I actually found myself smiling. "I'll hold you to it," I said, turning away from the cows and continuing on my exploration. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. I ran into a few more herds of deer and cows, but I didn't try to talk to them again. Instead, I focused on exploring the park in more detail than I ever had before. I investigated the Lakes of Killarney and Muckross Estate. I poked around Ross Castle, with its restored ancient furniture. I took a surprisingly relaxing shower under the mighty Torc Waterfall. And now, I found myself at the base of Torc Mointain. Remember that weird desire to climb a mountain? Well I was acting on it. I'd made a brief stop back to where I'd left my stuff and grabbed a few cans to eat along the way. I'd picked an easy mountain, that was for sure. Torc only barely qualified as a mountain, and the path up was built with railway sleepers so tourists didn't have to climb over the rocks and stuff. The mountain was a small, rugged thing, covered in dry mountain grass and rocks that looked and smelled extremely delicious. Small streams ran down from the mountain and fed into little ponds, which flowed in turn as trickles down the hill. A river was rushing, fast and furious, down the same hill across the footpath, opposite the mountain. It was here that I met a few more animals: sheep. The sheep were just as skittish as the deer, if not more so. There wasn't any strange conversation to be had here. There were also little frogs hopping around in the ponds and puddles on the mountain path, their backs shining in the evening sun as they jumped from leaf to leaf. Very cute. And also tempting. Munching on a can of beef, I started climbing up the railway sleepers, making slow progress in the utter silence of an empty world. At first, I climbed with no problem, but after a short while I got quite winded. I had never been a very fit person, and although becoming a dragon had helped that problem a little, walking around the park all day hadn't. I was gasping and panting by the time I finally reached the top. It was worth it. Up here, the air was so clean and fresh, so much that I could practically taste it. The view was absolutely stunning, taking my breath away. I could see all of Lough Leane and Ross Castle, glinting in the light of the setting sun. A gentle evening mist was rolling across the lake, creating an illusion of mystery and intrigue. Birds called from below, my new sensitive hearing picking up on their dusk chorus despite the distance. But the best part was far and away the wind. I could feel it on my scales and under my wings, which were folded at my sides. The wind was strong, but not violent, firm, but gentle. It was almost beckoning me to take off, to see if those wings on my back actually had a purpose. Tentatively, I opened my wings, their fanning membrane capturing a little of that wind. I gave a slight jump, and for a brief moment, I felt it. That sensation of weightlessness. Of somehow being apart from the world below, as though it could never even hope to touch you. But all too soon it was over, and my claws were back on the summit of the mountain. I must say, that feeling was so exhilarating, and so addictive, that I actually considered throwing myself off the mountain just to feel it again. But as much as I wanted to experience it again, common sense got the best of me. No use in killing myself by jumping off a mountain and trying to fly. As the sun went down and the stars came out, pure and untainted by light pollution, I remained on the mountain. It was freezing cold and the wind was still blowing, but that didn't bother me. Eating some of the rocks that were laying around had stoked my 'inner fire', so to speak. I didn't have any need of the things I had left by the river, so why not sleep up here? Was I kind of acting like an animal? Yeah, totally. Did I have a problem with that? No. Definitely not.