Chapter Text
Murtagh continued his recounting of his mission in Gil’ead. As he spoke of his encounter with Arven and Esvar, Thorn felt the weight his guilt and regret at the outcome. Stabbing Esvar until he cut through wards, flesh, and muscle. Leaving the younger man confused and betrayed even after Murtagh had healed the wound he inflicted.
Thorn breathed in and out as an air of magic rippled over him as he shifted into his second form. Dry grass and stems of withered thistles snapped under his feet as moved. Murtagh noticed the gait and the weight of the steps and before he could fully process what Thorn had done, Thorn had placed a hand with pointed fingernails just below his left shoulder before encircling both half scaled arms around his chest and laying his chin on Murtagh’s shoulder.
You did what you had to, Thorn comforted. No one died. Tormenting yourself won’t help.
Nothing in life is easy, Murtagh responded.
Why should it be? Thorn asked moving his head off Murtagh’s shoulder. Life is a fight from start to finish.
Murtagh looked at Thorn with a grim smile. Yes, and better to win than to lose.
He patted Thorn’s arms as he looked into his eyes. Light brown with flecks of deep red. Inside, a crimson fire deepened. They understood each other. Murtagh examined the rest of Thorn’s face. From forehead to chin was about the length of Murtagh’s face. A long nose ran from his eyes to just above his lips that hid sharp teeth. On top of his head was light brown hair with flecks red highlights woven in. Since Thorn hadn’t fully transformed human, he still had his curved horns coming out of his head. His body maintained it’s natural heat, feeling warm against Murtagh.
Bonded dragons could approximate the appearance of their rider when they chose to. It wasn’t something that Thorn did often, preferring to stay in dragon form. The fact that he deemed the moment worthy of shifting touched Murtagh, especially in light of recent events.
Thorn stayed in this form while Murtagh continued to recount his mission.