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Summer has ended, allowing for the once gentle breezes to become a dry kind of cold, the kind that burrows into Ranboo’s scales and makes it difficult to convince himself to leave the tree hollow he’d been calling his den.
But even through the autumn and winter months, Ranboo has to get up and find himself food. They should be getting more food since it’s so scarce. This is where they find themselves now, crouched beside a rather calm creek that will freeze rather soon.
He relies on the spiky bushes and ferns to shield the sight of his black scales from his prey as he sneaks upwind, keeping a nose out for any rabbit or squirrel scents.
Their eyes are better than their nose, however, spotting the dark brown ball of fur before the smell can alert him. The rabbit catches on to the rustle of the brush as Ranboo is too slow to stop his already in-motion talon.
The rabbit sprints, and so does Ranboo, barreling through the underbrush and dodging the tall birch trees.
He certainly isn’t as fast as the rabbit, but they don’t plan to lose their food easily. As desperate as a starving dragonet can be, he cuts the rodent off, reaching out with his talons to ensnare it, only to be duped at the last second.
The furry creature sprints back into the forest as Ranboo is sent flying out, going too fast to stop.
He tumbles down a steep hill, the tall grass tickling his scales as he rolls in a whorl of black and white scales.
When they finally stop and the dizziness is shaken away, Ranboo sneezes away the pieces of grass they’d brought down with them.
A funny squeak catches his attention. Ranboo blinks, bright eyes widen.
The other two dragonets stand cautiously, blinking as well.
He isn’t sure whether to feel excited or frightened. If there are dragonets, there’s sure to be adult dragons ready to pounce and snap his neck for getting too close, no matter if he’s a dragonet himself. But still, these are other dragonets. Standing right in front of him.
One is a shiny gold, his face turned to the side to observe him much like a bird of prey. Darker gold circles his eyes, reminding Ranboo of the mask of a raccoon. Instead of leathery wings like Ranboo, he has a beautiful set of golden and orange feathers.
The other is smaller, a brown puffball of a dragonet– but surely still big enough to play with! His face is stumpier than the other, with large eyes and curled horns. His tail was not long and spiked like Ranboo’s, and not a plume of feathers like his friend, but round, fluffy, and striped with yellow. But the most curious thing is the two pairs of insect-like wings on his back.
“Hello,” the small dragonet finally says. They seem to be curious about him as well.
“I’m Tommy. Do you want to play with us?” Tommy, the feathered one asks loudly. His tail swishes being him, a happy grin across his snout. His friend gives him a glare prompting him to add, “Oh, and this is Tubbo.”
Ranboo finds hope building in his chest. Their instincts are screaming at them to run through the meadow with his fellow dragonets, to wrestle and practice taking flight, but at the same time, he’s wary of the possible giants lurking in the shadows.
“Will the others in your flock be upset?” Ranboo asks with a tilt of his head.
“Nah!” Tommy sprints forward, startling Ranboo into tripping over his own tail.
The feathered dragon taps him on the snout with a gentle talon before running off. “You’re it!”
Ranboo looks towards Tubbo but finds that he’s also running with Tommy, giggling on the way.
A smile spreads on his face before they chase after the two. Running out in the open, where the sun can touch his scales, warms his entire body. They hardly think of the wind anymore, too busy chasing after their two new friends to be bothered by the cold.
The game goes on for a while. Every dragon has had multiple chances to be ‘it’, scrambling after the others to tap them. That is, before Tubbo decided he wanted to pounce rather than tap, and the game of tag transformed into a free-for-all all wrestling match.
They quickly find that Tubbo plays dirty, biting at Ranboo’s limbs, but not nearly enough to draw blood. It’s hard enough for dragonets to bite through scales even if they’re trying.
Ranboo yelps when the ground rumbles underneath their feet. They scramble to the side, tail spikes instinctively shielding his body and pointing towards the attacker.
He trembles underneath the gaze of the biggest dragon he’d ever seen.
The dragon is pink with faded splotches of red running down his neck. His horns are jagged, not smoothed like his own, and hooked at the ends. The big dragon growls, not phased by the other two dragonets bounding excitedly towards him.
“Techno!” Tommy puts a foot on the bigger dragon's talon– gods, Tommy is the size of this dragon's talon. “This is our new friend–”
“Who are you?” Techno asks in a low growl. Ranboo can feel it in their chest.
“Ranboo,” he replies shakenly.
“What flock are you from?” The threatening tone never leaves Techno’s voice. His wings slightly flare out, the sunset pink of his wing membrane catching in the sun like a burning torch.
Ranboo stutters, not able to answer before the ground shakes again. He steps further away, ready to bolt any second less he gets less of a grip on his panicking instincts. Ranboo knows that if they run, the other dragons will catch him. But his instincts are begging for him to run away from this strange flock.
A blue dragon has dropped to the grass. He’s not nearly as large as Techno, but he’s still towering over Ranboo. His neck is graceful like a swan, with delicate blue and brown fins running down his back and chest. His scales shimmer, reminding Ranboo of glistening waves.
Ranboo blinks. No. This isn't the time to be admiring a stranger's scales. It’s time to be pitiful and sorry and hope they let him live.
“Techno, are you bullying a child?” The new dragon gives Techno a squinted look.
“Said child was fighting ours,” Techno deadpans. “Now you’re one of the ones who wanted them. Why don’t you keep them out of danger.”
“We were having fun!” Tubbo speaks up, a squeak of fury. “Wilbur, tell Techno to lay off.”
Wilbur observes Ranboo, humming in thought, “We haven’t found signs of other flocks here. Have you just arrived, chick?”
Ranboo opens his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the shadows of two more dragons circling above. They’re getting lower, ready to land.
Finally, Ranboo’s instincts grab hold of the reins and they book it towards the forest. They ignore the startled voices of the strangers, just focusing on the ground underneath their talons as grass changes to dirt and tree roots.
They’re following, Ranboo knows that. But now that he’s in the forest, there’s hope that the bigger dragons won’t be able to keep up with him, unable to dodge the trees as quickly as he can. They certainly cannot fly through it.
He catches sight of his tree hollow, nestled a bit taller than Wilbur’s snout.
Continuing to ignore the voices, they scramble up the tree, silently thanking the gods for their curved, sharp talons. Just as the voice of a new dragon appears nearly at his tail, Ranboo shoves himself inside the hollow. He gasps for breath.
Surprisingly, he hears the new voice laugh. “You’re pretty quick.”
The laugh, though insulting, isn’t filled with anger. It’s a strange tone, one Ranboo has never heard before. He’s heard angry laughs of exasperation and manipulative laughs that soon became easy to differentiate, but this one is different. Ranboo isn’t sure what to make of it.
Against their better judgment, they peek outside of the hollow. Below, looking up towards him with a kind curiosity is a black feathered dragon. His features are similar enough to Tommy’s that they wonder if they’re the same species. It seems he’s the only one that followed.
“You’re an Ender Dragon, aren’t you, mate?” It wasn’t phrased like a question, so Ranboo didn’t answer. The other isn’t discouraged by it, only continuing to smile up at him.
“We didn’t mean to scare you. Techno can be a bit hostile when it isn’t needed.” The dragon looks fond despite looking down at his flockmate's behavior. “I’m Philza. What can I call you?”
Now that Ranboo has had a good look at the stranger, his curiosity satiated, he pulls his head back into the hollow. The dragon laughs again.
“Do you know where your flock is? We’d love to help you get back.”
Ranboo fights back the tears that spring to their eyes. They don’t want to admit it– they have no obligation to admit they were banished from their flock to this strange dragon. Ranboo keeps their mouth shut, curling around themselves and covering their face with a wing.
The dragon sighs, but Ranboo can’t hear him leave. No crunch of twigs, no rustle of underbrush. Until those noises appear, with the sound of even more voices. The dragons are back, and Ranboo wants to groan.
He presses his talons to his ears tightly, intent on ignoring the weird flock until they get bored and leave.
Much to his dismay, they stay. After he eventually gets tired of covering his ears, he has no choice but to listen to their conversations.
“We can scan the area tomorrow and look for his flock,” he hears Philza say. It’s followed by a hum of agreement.
There’s a soft hissing sound, followed by a spark. Ranboo’s den is slowly lit by a soft orange light. Daring once more to peek out, they spot the beginning of a fire surrounded by stone. While he’s too far away to enjoy the warmth, he appreciates the light as the sun starts to set. They’ve never really liked the darkness.
“You said he’s an Ender Dragon?” Wilbur asks. His fins are settled close to his body now, as if they’d never been there. “I didn’t know they still existed.”
“The world is filled with possibility,” Philza says, earning a snort from a few of his flock-mates.
“You’re talking about him like he isn’t here,” Tommy scoffs, pointing a claw up to Ranboo who had forgotten he’d stuck his head out of the hollow. Philza laughs, again, when Ranboo hides once more.
Tommy and Tubbo go on about how fun it was to play in the meadow. Ranboo finds himself smiling at the memory, despite it only happening maybe an hour prior. The interaction had scratched an itch in his brain that he hadn’t known about. But now that he’s had that moment, the urge to glide out of the tree, straight towards his friends, plagues his mind.
They fight the urge, curling further into themself.
The conversation is interrupted by a rather soft landing. Without poking his entire head out this time, he gets a look at the newcomer. It was the second black dragon he’d seen circling them earlier. Instead, this one is a dragoness, her feathers holding a slight tint of purple. In her talons, she carries an entire elk. The huge deer Ranboo would never even consider taking on. No thanks, they’ll stick with hunting rabbits for eternity.
They greet her, Tommy and Tubbo chirping and excitedly reaching for the elk.
Before their stomach can growl, Ranboo shuts their eyes tight and turns away from the hollow’s opening.
Why are these dragons still here? To find his flock? If he yelled down from the tree, admitting to having no flock, would they leave? Would they finally accept that he is none of their concern?
They know that they would never have the confidence to do so, but they wish they did. It’s bad enough they’re purring and chirping, angering something deep in his brain, but they’re also flaunting around an entire elk, which Ranboo will likely never get to try in his life.
His sulking is interrupted by a noise on the tree. He cries out at the sight of feathered talons, structured more similar to a bird’s talon than a dragon's, gently laying a strip of venison inside the hollow.
“Eat up, little one,” the dragoness whispers before returning to her flock.
Ranboo is frozen for a moment, eyes locked on the food– free food.
She gave it to him, so surely no one would be mad if he ate it. They couldn’t blame a hungry dragonet for eating food placed out for him. No. Why would they have a problem with that? If anything, that would be their fault if they truly didn’t want it to be eaten.
Before their mind can spiral any further, they snatch the venison away from the edge, biting into it.
It’s richer and more filling than a rabbit or squirrel. He happily finishes it in record time, only for another to be placed in the hollow.
Wasting less time to sit and stare, Ranboo takes it, purring as they feast. This goes on until Ranboo cannot eat anymore. Exhaustion takes over his body after finally getting a meal (well deserved, Ranboo doubts it, but the warmth is too intoxicating for them to care much). With a yawn, Ranboo settles into his scratchy nest of dried-up grass and leaves.
When he wakes, it’s freezing. The morning sun has just barely touched the inside of his nest, but what has gotten inside left Ranboo gasping.
“Snow?” They hear Wilbur wake. “Already?”
Ranboo peeks out, watching the startled flock awake, aside from Tubbo and Tommy who happily leap through the falling snowflakes. Frost clings to the grass, the snow slowly but surely building.
“We’ll have to migrate early,” Philza declares. He casts a worried look towards Ranboo’s hollow, surely catching a glimpse of Ranboo before he can duck back inside. He can hear the dragon sigh. No more laughs.
A moment later, Ranboo can sense Philza outside the hollow. The older dragon has to lean against the tree, stretching his neck up, to see inside.
Ranboo glares, curled in the back. Philza frowns.
“It’s too cold here, mate. Your flock won’t stay here either. We can look for them further south.”
Ranboo shuts his eyes tight, once again willing the tears away. He doesn’t respond.
“Get down. Putting your snout in there isn’t going to make him more comfortable,” the dragoness says, causing Philza to instantly sink back to the ground.
Instead, the dragoness talks to him from the frost-covered grass, safely away from Ranboo. He’s able to relax a tiny bit, now that he’s not being cornered.
“I don’t want to leave you here, love,” she says sweetly, kindly, sadly. Ranboo’s never heard something so soft aimed towards themself. “We’ll return you to your flock, I promise.”
Ranboo sniffles, taking in a breath to steady themself, Slowly, they look back out of the hollow. They meet eyes with the kind dragon. She smiles warmly, a twinge of nervousness still hanging onto her expression.
He can’t help but break eye contact, folding in on himself, instinctively trying to appear as small as possible. “I don’t have a flock,” they respond quietly.
Her face melts into sorrow. They ignore how the others share a similar expression, aside from Tubbo and Tommy’s confusion as they take a moment to stop playing in the snow to look up.
“We’ll still take you,” the dragoness promises. “Come here, love.” She steps closer, folding her wings to hold herself up while reaching her talons up towards the tree. “You must be cold.”
Ranboo chokes back his tears, cringing as the freezing wind and snow hit his face. Slowly, as if his talons were made of stone, he shuffles closer, reaching for her arms.
Half of him expects to fall, but he’s surprised to find himself quickly tucked against her feathers. She coos, wrapping a wing to shield him from the wind. He purrs.
They can hardly hear the conversation over the feathers surrounding them. That is, until the wings tucked around him are taken away, and it’s replaced by the cold wind. Still, she doesn’t let go, safely holding him in her talons as the flock takes flight.
Beside them, held by Philza and Techno, Tommy and Tubbo shriek in excitement. They’re held in such a way that allows them to stretch their wings out, flapping along as if they too were flying. It doesn’t take long for the dragoness to notice where Ranboo’s attention is aimed.
They find themself in the same position as his friends, legs dangling down towards the fading, birch forest. With an amused laugh, they stick their wings out, white membrane catching on the wind. The cold wind is no longer bothersome, but freeing. It’s like this is where he’s always meant to be.
Before long, he finds himself held back into the dragon's feathers, until they switch who was holding him. Tommy and Tubbo are traded off as well, now letting Philza take a break. He trembles in the sharp talons of Techno, the one who had growled and threatened them.
But now, the dragon has a soothing rumble emanating from his chest. It quiets Ranboo’s anxiety, much like another itch he didn’t know needed to be scratched. Before long, they’re purring alongside him.
They fly for a long while, Ranboo having switched a few times between the older dragons. The sun travels across the sky, until once again, it begins to set over the horizon.
They’d been traveling across the open ocean for a few hours now, the warm light of sunset catching in the lapping waves. Once, they’d even seen a vague shape of a human ship. The older dragons had been quick to change direction.
Tommy and Tubbo had settled down, curled in their flock’s talons, their eyes closed. Ranboo, however, cannot distract himself long enough to doze.
He made the sudden choice to join this flock, but will they really keep him? He can’t pretend to know why his old flock abandoned him, dropping him off in an unfamiliar forest without a word of explanation, but what he does know is that there must be something wrong with him. Something that he can’t quite figure out.
Maybe he looks a little bit off, maybe his horns grew in wrong or his wings are too small for his body. Perhaps he ate or cried too much.
They want to belong. Maybe this truly is the place where they can be safe. If he stays as polite and respectful as possible, they could let him stay.
Ranboo purrs at the thought. A safe den with a bunch of big dragons to protect them from scary creatures that make loud noises at night. And new friends! Dragonets his age to play with.
Philza holds Ranboo closer to his feathered chest as the flock begins to descend. They land on a rocky ledge overlooking a beach. It’s warmer here, but still chilly, especially without the sun. He shivers as he’s sat down onto cold stone.
Tommy and Tubbo yawn stumbling along after Wilbur, right into a beautiful, expansive cave. Sharp rocks outline the entrance like sharp teeth.
As they step closer to the cave, they can smell the faint scent of the flock, likely left over from the last summer they’d stayed here.
“Let’s get you to sleep, mate.” Philza gently nudges him.
Ranboo stumbles on sleepy feet, yawning at the sight of a cozy nest made of feathers, fur, and what seems to be torn cloth. With more gentle profiling, he’s guided over to it, joining Tubbo and Tommy in the center.
Their eyes are heavy, as are their limbs and mind. There’s still an instinct somewhere deep in Ranboo’s brain that tells him that it’s not a good idea to sleep by these dragons. But it fades the longer he has his eyes closed.
Soft melody lulls him to sleep, a lullaby sung softly, accompanied by the waves lapping at rock.
