Soon after calming down, Arin realized that something was wrong. Very wrong.
The dragon was panting.
At first, the sound hadn't even been loud enough to puncture through the noise of the wind rushing in his ears. As time passed, however, the rough-sounding, periodic puffs of air became louder and more frequent.
Arin could feel the dragon's chest rise and fall in tandem with its labored breathing. Its mouth was hanging open, and its dark eyes had taken on a dull, almost glazed look. Even still, the dragon's claws remained firmly wrapped around Arin's waist, and its wings flapped in rhythm as they cut through the air.
'What's wrong?' Arin frowned, holding onto a claw as he spoke. 'Did you get hurt? Back at the lake… when you saved me…'
The dragon glanced back at him with a derisive huff. It probably would have rolled its eyes if it could.
'Then, what is it? Are you… tired?'
The dragon didn't respond this time. It continued staring ahead as it flew.
'Since I arrived, you've been carrying me, and we've been flying for hours,' Arin continued voicing his thoughts out loud. 'The only break was when we stopped at that tower. What the hell. I really have been taking you for granted, huh?'
Closing his eyes, he sighed.
'It never even crossed my mind that all this flying could be so taxing for you. I'm sorry- ! Hey!?'
His words were cut off by his own cry of fear as the dragon slightly loosened its grip around his waist. Feeling himself slipping, Arin grabbed onto a claw with all his might and yelled, 'What! Is wrong! With you!?'
The dragon let out another huff – shorter this time – as it tightened its claws once again.
'Did you do that on purpose? Just use your words if you're mad about something, you damned thing!' Well, it couldn't. It was a dragon. Still…
He clenched his teeth. All that furious yelling had made the pain on the right side of his body flare up even more. Arin had to force himself to calm down again. 'So the flying isn't what's tiring you out. My sincerest apologies for insinuating that, o great one! This little bit of exertion is nothing for our majestic horse-dragon-thing. But then, what even is the problem with - oh…'
Arin's eyes widened as he realized something.
'It's this form, isn't it? Being a dragon is what's exhausting for you! You took this form because… I'm guessing it's because this was the fastest way to get away from that lake while also carrying me, wasn't it? But we've left that far behind us by now, so why won't you fly back down to catch your breath? Maybe turn back into that winged-horse?'
Arin discovered that he was getting quite good at this kind of one-sided, fill-in-the-blanks style of conversation. Without even pausing to gauge the dragon's response, he answered his own question.
'You're worried about what else we might encounter down there…'
The white-haired man had mentioned that he was unlikely to encounter anyone who knew Rin in this part of the forest. And if Rin didn't frequent this area, it would make sense for his companion shape-shifting horse-creature to also be unfamiliar with it. The fact that it had been taken by surprise at the lake should be proof enough of this.
The dragon didn't seem to have the energy to respond to him anymore. It kept its head facing forward, looking positively miserable now. Its chest was heaving heavily with each laborious breath, and the strenuous flapping of its wings appeared to be all it could focus on. The creature was clearly exerting all its strength on getting them to the orchard and completing its task.
Arin fell silent once again. He trusted that the dragon knew its limits, and would not be dropping from the sky any time soon. Especially not with him in tow. It clearly cared too much for his (or at least, Rin's body's) well-being. Fortunately, he didn't have to spend too long worrying.
In the distance, the maddening, never-ending expanse of green had finally given way to a blur of muted colors. After a few more minutes, Arin could make out that the color came from a patchwork of tiled rooftops. Just beyond the edge of the forest sat what appeared to be a small village.
It looked to be a simple, if rather sparse settlement. Small buildings – clusters of stone and timber – had been built in neat groups of three to five that sat scattered across farmland and pastures. A single, substantially larger building towered over the others from the approximate center of the village. Connected to this building were narrow dirt roads that threaded outwards like veins and cut through the rest of the land.
A slow-moving river, emerging from somewhere within the forest itself, curved around the southern edge of the village like a silver ribbon. Its waters glinted as they caught the late-afternoon sunlight. It flowed beyond the settlement's boundaries, out through the empty, open meadows that stretched towards distant hills, and faded into the distance.
On the other side of the village, the forest gradually transitioned into a barely neater arrangement of an apple orchard. Rows of gnarled trees with thick, twisted trunks stretched across the land, their appearance betraying their age. As the dragon slowly descended to land on a narrow footpath that wound through the rows of trees, Arin saw ripening fruit weighing down the branches all around him.
The dragon landed unsteadily on three legs, its fourth one holding Arin aloft and away from the ground. It staggered, trying to regain balance amidst the flurry of leaves that had been sent flying by the wind from its wings. After a few seconds of reeling, it finally managed to straighten up and safely set him down on the ground.
Sort of.
'Ugh!' Arin groaned as his feet slammed into the dirt. The force of the impact bucked his knees, and he was sent crashing down on all fours. The soil was soft enough that his knees didn't suffer, but his already-injured body twinged in discomfort.
After waiting a few seconds for the pain to subside, Arin sat up. Turning to face the dragon, he smiled sincerely and said a simple, 'Thank you.'
The dragon met his gaze and grunted softly. Then, it slowly shut its eyes and collapsed. Arin watched as it disappeared, leaving behind fluttering leaves and a large, empty patch of disturbed soil right in the middle of the footpath. Except, it wasn't really empty. A small, silvery-white lizard now lay curled up in the center, its tiny chest rising and falling in rhythm. It was fast asleep.