Laika Belle's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

By the second week, Laika could name every animal in the sanctuary by the sound of its breathing. She fed the dragon at dawn. She brushed the chimera at noon. Her hands had grown steady. Her mouth had not. When Felicette spoke to her across the yard, Laika still answered in half words or nods. The animals asked nothing of her tongue. She had begun to prefer it that way. On the tenth morning, a stranger came through the gate. A tiefling, tall, with a red cloak muddy at the hem and a limp in his left leg. He carried a wire cage. Inside, a young starry dragon lay on its side, one wing bent wrong. Laika stood in the doorway with the feed scoop in her hand and watched him. "Heard you take hurt things," he said. He set the cage down at her feet. He looked up at her, and his eyes were the same blue as hers. He smiled. It was a tired, kind smile. "Can you help her?" Laika knelt by the cage. The little dragon's fur shifted purple to black under her hand. She unlatched the door and lifted the animal out. The wing was clean-broken. She could splint it. Her fingers already knew. The man crouched beside her. "I walked two days," he said. "Someone at the market told me about this place. About the girl who feeds the ones that won't eat." He waited. "That's you?" Laika nodded. She kept her eyes on the wing. She felt his shoulder near hers, warm through the cloak. He smelled like rain and leather. He was waiting for her to say something. Anything. Her name would have been enough. Her throat closed. She reached for the splint kit instead. She worked. The man watched her hands for a long minute. Then he stood. "I'll come back for her in a week," he said. His voice had gone flat. "If that's alright." Laika nodded again. She did not look up. She heard his boots cross the yard. She heard the gate. Felicette came out of the barn and stood beside her. She watched the road where the red cloak was already small. "He came a long way," Felicette said. "For a dragon he could have left in a ditch." Laika looked at her. "He was only bringing the animal." Felicette's ears turned back. "He asked your name three ways. You didn't hear any of them." She picked up the empty cage. "Animals show you what they want. People hide it inside words. You have to learn the words, Laika. Or you'll keep missing them." Laika sat with the splinted dragon in her lap. The gate stayed shut. Her hands, so sure a moment ago, felt useless now. She had learned to listen without speaking. It was not enough.