The Celtic Dragon

by JumpingShinyFrogs

6. Friend

I couldn't believe it! The voice was heavily distorted by the static, and it was hard to make out exactly what the speaker was saying, but who cares! It was a person, and that's all I needed. The voice was masculine, and had a thick West Cork accent with a little Kerry mixed in. It sounded vaguely familiar, but then again most Cork people tended to sound more or less the same over the phone, so why should the radio be any different?

Shame the message was so vague. All I could gather was 'farm—something—road—something—Ballyvourney'. Which doesn't help me at all because West Cork is around ninety percent farm, especially around Ballyvourney. An address, or at the very least, a direction would have been nice.

It would have to do. It would be getting dark soon, and I wanted to make a fair go at finding this person before it did. I was getting a weird impression that if I went out at night I wouldn't find any ponies. Call it one of those annoying predatory instincts.

I decided to go thorough Ballyvorney and try the road leading out to Macroom. There are a few farms along the main road there that are easy to get to, including several that belong to some of my friends. Though the voice on the radio was clearly male and I didn't really have very many male friends, maybe one of my friends was with him? One could hope.

The road leading out to Macroom was one of those narrow affairs that terrified the tourists. The kind of road where there's a lot of bends and only one lane, but it isn't a one way road. Also, there's a lot of very big, very slow-moving tractors that are usually towing trailers. Watching American tourists try to drive on Irish roads is the best kind of free entertainment. They grip the steering wheel for dear life and move at the pace of a dying snail, like they think the tractor in front of them will suddenly roll backwards and hit them.

Obviously there were no tourists today. The road was quiet aside from the first chirpings of the dusk chorus and the occasional mooing or bleating from the roaming farm animals. There were puddles in the field on the side of the road, leading me to believe it had rained here recently. I could just about hear the babbling of a stream somewhere around. I couldn't see it, but my sharper hearing let me know it was somewhere to my right.

I checked every farm I passed, but I couldn't find any sign of another survivor. Only empty animal pens and rotting food. After a while, I thought that maybe I had just gone in the wrong direction, but then I saw something odd. In the distance there was a stone wall, but there was something white smeared on it. As I got closer, the white blotch came into focus, and I saw it for what it actually was.

It was an arrow. It looked like it had been painted by someone who had never held a brush before in their life, but it was definitely an arrow, and it was definitely pointing up the road.

In all likelihood, it was just left over from before everything went wrong, but that didn't stop me from following it. If there was even the slightest chance that it was new, well what did I have to lose? So I followed it. I may or may not have also eaten part of the wall, and it may or may not have partially collapsed onto the road, but it's not like anyone was using it.

I walked in the direction the arrow was pointing, and I saw that there was a trail of them. Whoever had left them there had left a whole path to follow. I kept following the arrows until eventually they stopped. And guess where I was?

I was at a farm.

The farm had a pretty big house with a massive garage. I couldn't really see into the yard from where I was standing, but there was a field out front where a few sheep were grazing. There was also one cow, and a whole flock of chickens pecking about. But that's not the best part.

The best part was that, in the middle of all the animals, struggling to milk the cow, was a pony. Like Tina, he didn't have a horn, but he did have the little butt tattoo. It looked like a red tractor with some sort of shape in the tyres. His coat was a brown the colour of milk chocolate and his mane was a pale blonde. His wide eyes were a very unnatural purple, but I suppose that was the least unnatural thing about him.

"Right now girl, will'ou hold still so I can get a grip. Jaysus, I don't have anything to use but my mouth so you'll just have to put up with it," he said in a very annoyed tone. The cow mooed but stayed still.

I stifled a laugh, because his accent was just as thick here as it was on the radio. It was without a doubt the same speaker. He still sounded vaguely familiar to me, but I still couldn't put my finger on it. It looked like he hadn't seen me, so I walked closer to him. I didn't want to frighten him, because that little whisper was starting back up and I was scared that if he bolted I'd lose control again. And that was the last thing I wanted.

Unfortunately for me, subtlety isn't my strong suit. I stepped on a small pebble, but I suppose a heavy dragoness walking along small stones and gravel is bound to make some noise. One of the sheep looked up, followed by the rest of them. Which led to the chickens looking up. The cow stared at me for a moment, before mooing in alarm.

The pony lifted his head from under her. "What now?" he asked. Then he saw me. "Ah, shite," he said, right before he took off running behind the house. The rest of the animals followed him, and soon he was leading a whole stampede.

As for me, well I did exactly what you'd expect. That is, take off running after them because I'm a violent and aggressive predator and I hate it.

Unlike with Tina, my thoughts were perfectly clear this time around. Which made it worse because I still couldn't stop myself. The pony and his herd tore off into the farmyard, where they ended up startling a couple of pigs. The pigs joined in the mad rush to get away, but they weren't as quick as the other creatures. I caught up to one of them in no time, still trying to stop myself and failing miserably.

I caught the pig in my claws and dragged it down. It was still alive, but there were scratches on its back, not deep, but still bleeding. The thing was squealing as though someone was trying to slaughter it. Which I suppose is pretty accurate. It kicked and flailed, but I was stronger. I wasn't stronger than myself, however, and I prepared to strike the killing blow, but then I heard a shout.

"Hoi, stop!"

It was the pony, for some insane reason having turned around. I tried to scream at him to run, to get as far away from me as possible, but all that came out was a primal growl. He ignored my warning and charged up towards me. I released the pig and stared him down. He wasn't anything like as threatening as Tina had been. He looked absolutely terrified, shaking like a leaf and tensed to run away. His ears were flattened back against his head, but still he held firm. I'd have applauded him if he weren't being so stupid.

"Right so, whatever you are, you need to leave, and not k-kill my lads," he stammered out, putting on a show of bravery. And then I pounced on him.

I hadn't meant to, but I just couldn't do anything about it. I wasn't in control of myself at all. No matter how hard I begged my body to stop what it was doing, to not murder this pony, I just couldn't. I had the pony pinned under my claws, and for all his struggling he couldn't get free. I opened my jaws wide and...

"Please don't kill me."

In that one instant, all of the maddening viciousness left. With that single, desperate plea, I stopped. I tried to close my mouth, and found myself able. I hesitantly lifted my claw from him, my arm trembling. He scrambled backwards and stood up, unharmed aside from a few light scratches. He was trembling like crazy, but he didn't move. He looked as though he wanted to bolt, but he held his ground. He looked up at me, and I looked back down at him. I wore a small smile to try and calm him down, but I think I only made it worse.

"Are you...going to try and eat me?" he asked.

"No," I said. "Not anymore."

He looked a little surprised. "I didn't think you could actually talk. I thought you were like my lads over there." He gestured to the animals, who had stopped their mad dash and now watched with curiosity. "I thought you were just smarter than the other fellas."

"I'm like you," I said, hoping I was right. "I used to be a human."

"Is that right? Then why'd you go arseways and try to eat me there?" asked the pony.

I snickered and then started laughing. Something about the fact that he'd called my little rampage 'going arseways', like it was only a strange, minor inconvenience was just funny to me.

"I suppose I did go a bit arseways didn't I?" I said, still giggling a little. He looked a little disturbed, but he wore a small smile, and he looked less tense. I sobered up, and said, "I'm sorry. I couldn't control myself. If you want me to leave, I will."

He cocked his head like a puppy. "Leave? Why would I want that? Sure, you're the only other thing I've met that can talk for over a month. 'Tis clane dung, I'd say."

"But..." I protested, "I attacked your livestock. And I nearly killed you! And you're just willing to let me stay?" I wasn't expecting this. Not after what happened with Tina. And I'd come much closer to killing this pony than I had her.

"Look," he said, straightening up. All traces of fear were gone from his pose. He now stood tall and firm, his ears pointing up again. "I'd say 'twas also my fault. If I hadn't ran, you mightn't have lost the plot. I lost control just as much as you did. I'd be willing to let it go, no bother."

I couldn't believe this. He was actually willing to forgive me? "Do you mean that?" I asked.

"Of course! Consider yourself forgiven. Now, what's your name? Mine's Rian," he said.

"Rian? As in, Rian Willems?" I asked. Of course! That's why he sounded so familiar. Rian was in the year above me at school. I'd seen him around, but I'd never really talked to him. "I'm Deirdre Rourke. I went to the same school as you before everything got all ballsed up," I said, channeling my inner Corkwoman.

"Oh yeah, sure! You're in fourth year, right?" he said, eyes wide.

"Was in fourth year, but yeah. And you were in fifth year, yes?" I said.

"I was indeed. 'Twas pure shite, all the stress they throw down on top of you. 'Tis all Leaving Cert this, studying that. Pure sickening," he said, making a face.

"Fourth year was a pure doss. We didn't do shit the whole year. I'd say we spent more time out of school than in school," I said smugly. I know how much fifth years would always miss fourth year. Fourth year was a gap year, a year where you just went on trips all the time. It was a load of fun, but fifth year was like a wake up call afterwards with all the work.

"I know. I missed fourth year so much, I thought about asking to be held back. Would have been great craic I'd say," he said, laughing a little.

The sun was going down, but Rian and I kept talking. We talked about everything and anything, from school, to our plans for the summer that inevitably had to be cancelled, to the last bits of gossip we'd heard before everything went wrong. And it was almost normal. For that entire conversation, we weren't a dragon and a pony. We were just a fourth year girl and a fifth year lad, talking about nothing in particular.

When night fell, Rian nearly fell asleep on his hooves almost instantly. He showed me I tot he farmhouse and told me I could take any bed. I couldn't fit in any of them, so I fell asleep on the floor in front of his wood burning stove.

Y'know, despite the rocky start, I had a feeling that me and Rian were going to get along just fine.

Author's Note:

I might put in the occasional illustration (like in this chapter) but nothing on the level of the original story's. Still, I need to practice drawing more than just characters and no background, so here we go. Might as well do it for this story.

Also, if you want to better imagine how Rian speaks (and also for a bit of a laugh), watch this video and pay attention to the part where he talks about Cork and West Cork. That's what Rian sounds like.

Comments

[rikusorasephiroth]

"I know. I missed fourth year so much, I thought about asking to be held back. Would have been great craic I'd say," he said, laughing a little.

Would have been great craic I'd say

craic

I honestly doubt many non-Irish people know the word.
I only do because my mother's Irish.
...
I'm Australian.

[JumpingShinyFrogs]

6460825 That's the fun of it. How many non-Irish people know what 'craic', 'clane' and 'arseways' mean?

[Greatazuredragon]

Yeah those instincts are going to be a problem...
Nice chapter, good work.

[JasontheDemon]

Love it. The whole thing is pretty unique and educational to those who don't know much about Ireland. I know a bit but that's because I like the culture and the accents are basically music to my ears so I've spent some time researching various things. This just makes it possible for me to learn more AND read an awesome story about a human changing into a dragon! I give it 5 stars, two thumbs up, and a partridge in a pear tree! Keep up the good work.

[Graglithan The Greater]

6461288

'craic', 'clane' and 'arseways'

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