She's far enough away from town now. Deep enough onto an isolated path in the hills, where nobody can see her.
She removes her clothes, neatly packs them away into her bag. Then, with a deep breath, she lets go of her human form.
Her shape warps, grows, lengthens, into that of a moderately large, quadrupedal, winged reptile. Graceful horns crown her head, a long tail sways behind her.
Every time she gets to do this, it feels wonderful. A tension in her heart, a held breath, released. But living in the city as she does - and terrified of how people will react - she normally only gets to partially transform, in the safety of her home. She rarely gets both the space and the privacy to just... let go. Let herself enter - no, return to - this form. Though it is relatively new to her - having only discovered her draconic nature a few months past - it feels right. Her true shape, long hidden from her.
But even among the calm of this shape, trotting into the forest with her wings folded behind her, she can't shake that feeling of loneliness.
Is it just her, who is like this? Are there any other dragons left in this world? Is she singular, unique, alone?
She doesn't know. She barely knows anything about herself, about her nature, about why she is the way she is. Why was she born in human shape to human parents, rather than hatching from an egg?
If this really is her true form, why did it take so long to discover it?
She doesn't know. She has no answers.
And through a massive maw, she sighs.
At least she has the forest. She can stretch her wings, trot between the trees. For a couple of hours, at least, she is free to be a dragon - no sign of humanity but the messenger bag hanging from her neck and shoulder. Through her heightened senses, she feels the forest. Hears its sounds, smells it's scents...
Wait.
A distant whiff. Subtle fire.
Something about that scent... it's so familiar.
Without thinking, she bolts through the trees, leaps into the air once she hits a clearing. She spreads her wings and takes to the skies, visibility from the ground be damned.
That scent... she has to know. An instinct pulls her towards it, deep within her indisputably draconic mind. She's never smelt that scent before, but she knows to seek it out.
Her flight is a little unsteady - she's gotten so little practice since her first experimental foray into the air. She's so afraid of being seen, she rarely ever flies. But every chance she gets... it's so wonderful. So freeing. She just wishes she could do it more.
She finds herself at the source of the scent, and lands on a paved, quiet road. She glances upwards, and sees a station wagon parked at the side of the road, and a lone young woman standing, stunned, in front of it.
Oh no. Oh no. she's let herself be seen. Panic starts to rise. Is she going to be all over the newspapers? The next ghost story, the next Bigfoot?
But as the shock falls from the roadside girl's face, it's replaced not by fear, not by terror or surprise, but by... relief. The strange girl steps forward, her gaze drawn to the shoulder bag. The stranger smiles, her eyes filling with tears.
"You're... you're just like me." the girl says. And she begins to walk towards her.
And between steps, she blossoms outwards.
Before she knows it, another dragon is staring into her eyes. The newcomer doesn't seem to mind that her clothes have been ripped apart in the transformation.
Her heart skips a beat.
The two dragons stare at each other, a moment of silent recognition. And then, in a moment of quiet instinct, they draw closer.
They greet each other not with human words, but with nuzzles and chirps.
It feels so good, to feel another set of scales brushing against her own. To hear the chirps and calls of another like her. Another who understands the hunger, the frustration, the horrible pent up feeling of spending so much time in disguise. Another who gets it. She isn't alone. She isn't alone!
