Capìtan Floofencorn was having a bad day, and then the dragons arrived.
Floofencorn had been out collecting black walnuts on a beautiful, if damp, autumn day. The rain the night before made the hill behind his home smell of fallen leaves, and the early morning sunshine had that special quality that was only found at this time of year. The angled light, and shadows made by the trees, turned the hill into a natural cathedral. Sunshine warmed his wool, which appeared as clouds of red, yellow, and blue growing off his body. He glowed: his wool glowed, his single spiral horn glowed. His whole heart glowed.
As he climbed the hill, a wicker basket in the crook of his elbow, he hummed happily to himself. His work gloves rested in the back pocket of his stained and sturdy coveralls. It was a perfect morning, and in a few weeks time he was going to be snacking on delicious nuts and have more than enough materials to make dye. Come spring he would collect wool from the other sheep that lived nearby and sell it as yarn. Though, as far as he knew, he was the only sheep with wool that grew in bright primary colors, which must have been the result of having a unicorn as a parent... that and the single spiral horn growing from his head.
At the top of the hill stood the oldest tree in the grove. From its towering branches the rest of the hill had been seeded and become a treasure trove for the Floof. Breath clouding in the early morning light, he mounted the crest of the hill. After a brief rest and stretch, Floofencorn his pulled gloves onto his hands and put his helmet on, slotting his horn through the hole he had drilled for it. He made sure the extending rod, with weighted ball tip, he used for knocking walnuts out of trees was in his chest pocket and then started to climb.
Hooves evolved for rocky terrain worked just as well for climbing trees. He climbed as high as he dared and then bounced on a limb, testing if it would hold his weight. With one hand holding the trunk for balance, Floof smacked the tree limbs around him with the weighted rod. A satisfying "thwok" sound echoed around the hill, was followed by deep thuds as the ripe walnuts rained to the ground. It took most of the morning to harvest a third of the hill - shaking trees, whacking limbs, filling his basket, and depositing the nuts in his workshop - now Floofencorn was ready for a snack.
Working his way down the hill, Floof felt damp leaves slide beneath his hooves. He hop-stepped to keep his balance but a hoof caught on a fallen branch. Capìtan Floofencorn tumbled. The basket of nuts flew from his hand and spilled down the hill. He rolled and slipped across still damp leaves and several black walnuts squashed beneath his back.
When he finally came to a rest at the bottom of the hill, Floof was intimately aware of the many bruises across his back. Even though the leafy canopy overhead was a blurry mess, he could have sworn he saw a winged shadow pass overhead. Capìtan Floofnorn decided he did not want to deal with reality at the moment and passed the fuck out.
Coming to, the first thing he noticed was the smell of smoke. The second thing was he hurt all over, but, thankfully, nothing seemed broken. Third, someone was singing softly. He groaned and opened his eyes. A red dragon with thin black stripes, smoke curling from its nose, was standing by his outdoor stove and staring down at him. He was flat on his back, on the deck behind his house with a chair cushion under his head.
"You're awake now, eh?" she asked him. "We saw that spill you took there, it was a helluva thing. I'm heating up some water so you can get cleaned up. My buddy went to get more of these pods you spilled all over the hill." She held one of the black walnuts in her ruby red hand. The sleeves of her worn but serviceable shirt were rolled up past her elbows. Leather pants, dyed a forest green, stopped half way down her muscular calves. Her tail swished back and forth, never quite knocking into the stove, table or stool on his porch.
"My name's Tanerax. You just rest there, eh. My friend and I'll take care of you" She reached out to touch him with a scaled hand, then paused, her green eyes staring into his. "May I? We did a quick check when we found you, but I want to make sure nothing is broken. It's hard to see with your coat coming in."
An instinct at the back of his brain was yelling at him to run. Despite being woozy, Floofencorn was able to suppress this knee-jerk fear. He was injured, and she had clearly been strong enough to carry him back to his home. She wanted to help, he told himself.
"Go ahead, I think the most harm was done to my pride. I'm Floofencorn," he said.
Tanerax sat on her haunches. To Floof it seems like she was trying to smile in a reassuring way, but her pointed teeth made him shiver. She examined the side of his head with her hand. "Let me know if anything hurts when I touch you, eh? I'll do my best to be gentle."
She pressed her hands against the base of his neck, the back of his head, his cheek, and across the top of his skull. The dragon's hands paused briefly by his horn.
"Is everything okay?" He asked when she started to stare.
"Oh, sorry, I've never seen a sheep with just one horn," she said. Then in a much more business-like manner checked his arms, chest and legs for injury.
Despite wincing when she touched his fetlock, he was surprised by how soft and warm her hands were, a gentle heat radiated from them. Dragon, he reminded himself, not lizard.
"I'm not a doctor, just have some first aid, yuh know? I don't think you broke anything, but that spot on your leg is definitely tender, maybe a sprain?" Tanerax pointed to Floof's stove. "I started to heat some water in the big pots there if you want to clean up."
"What?" Floof was still feeling shaken. "Oh, those are for dye, I've got a place to clean up, inside."
A bang further down the porch mode both of them jump. A purple and blue dragon set down a basket overflowing with black walnuts.
"What are these things Sheepy-corn? They're spilled all over the hill!" Floof sat up to get a better view of the purple and green dragon now standing on his back porch. She was taller than her red and black companion, and less muscular, but seemed to vibrate with energy. A worn black leather vest hugged her torso, and matching shorts hung loose just above her knees.
"You didn't have to do that, but I really appreciate it," he said.
"You seemed broken and I was bored," she said with a shrug. "Do you normally harvest the whole hill? I'll trade you that for dinner tonight while Tanner makes sure you don't die."
Floof started to laugh and winced when it made him aware of just how many bruises he had. "I'm not going to die, but room and board seem a more than fair trade for my rescue and your help harvesting the walnut crop. Take my gloves so they don't stain your lovely scales." He took his work gloves from a pocket in his pants and handed them over.
"I'm Capitan Floofencorn, not sheepy-corn," he said.
"I'm Pax," said the dragon as she took the gloves from him. Before she flew off Pax planted a kiss on Tanerax's cheek. "See you in a bit."
Tanerax and Floofencorn stared at each other in awkward silence.
