Pink's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Pink came off the trapeze stage the next evening still buzzing. The pink lights had flashed. The crowd had roared. Her hands shook. Her voice ran fast in her own head. Tonight she had to face Toothless again, and he had told her he would know if she lied. She could not walk into the forest like this. She had to drain the tour out of herself first. She went to the market instead of the trees. The stalls stood in bright rows, awnings striped red and green. Vendors called out. Baskets of fruit spilled over. It was loud, and the loud made her worse. She almost turned back for the stage. Then she stopped at a flower stall. A spray of purple blossoms hung from a hook. Small magenta berries dotted the stems. Pink reached up and touched one flower. She made her fingers slow. She counted the petals, one by one, the way she had counted her breath in the dirt the night before. Her shoulders dropped an inch. The market noise faded back. "For your daughter?" the vendor asked. Pink almost answered fast. She caught it. She breathed. "Yes," she said, quiet. She bought the spray and carried it into the trees. She named each blossom under her breath as she walked. By the time she reached the clearing, her hands had stopped shaking. Toothless dropped from the branches. He landed hard and folded his wings. Green eyes fixed on her. This was the last Night Fury he knew of, the dragon most people met with a raised weapon. He had told her the work was not the beast. The work was her. She did not lunge. She did not talk fast. She sat down in the dirt and set the flowers beside her. She kept her mouth shut. Toothless watched a long time. No fire glowed in his throat. He took one step closer. Then another. He put his nose near the purple blossoms and sniffed. "You're quiet," he said. "I found a way," Pink said, low. "Something small to hold onto." He studied her. "It held tonight." He paused. "It won't always." He pressed the flat of his snout against her open palm. Warm, dry, heavier than she expected. Her breath caught, but she stayed still. She did not grab. She let him choose it. He held there a moment, then pulled back. "That's trust," he said. "A little." He turned toward the trees. "Men with weapons live downriver. They hunt my kind. If you bring your noise near me, you bring them." He looked back once. "Stay quiet. Or I'm gone." He vanished into the dark. Pink sat with the flowers in her lap. She had touched him. She had earned the first inch. But he had drawn a hard line, and a settlement of armed men sat downriver, closer than she'd known. One loud night could cost her everything. Tomorrow the work got harder.