Melchor had been tailing them for quite a while.He slithered through the shadows, scales pressed to the ground, eyes locked on Eden.From his perspective, everything was colossal: the travelers' boots rose like walking mountains, and the wagons' wheels were rolling walls.
When Grumblin escorted Eden into the guild, Melchor climbed up the side of one of the wagons with ease. His claws scraped the wood until he perched on the roof, flattening himself like a smear of darkness. No one noticed him.
The problem came when the group returned and began preparing to leave.With so much noise and commotion, Melchor realized—too late—that he wasn't on the wagon he thought he was. Flustered, he scrambled, and with a poorly judged leap, slipped over the edge, bouncing off the canvas of another wagon.The fabric sagged under his weight and shot him back up like a spring, dropping him unceremoniously onto the next one.
Dizzy but unharmed, he opened his eyes and discovered he'd landed on one of the wagons the group would be taking. He shook his head, hissed under his breath, and continued hopping from vehicle to vehicle as if nothing had happened.
His little claws clacked softly against the wooden beams as he moved quickly, poking his head just enough over the edges and canvas to peek inside. Every time he saw an unfamiliar face, he slipped away again, leaping to the next wagon.
From the ground, someone might have sworn a scaly blur flickered between the caravans.But Melchor wasn't looking for fun—he simply needed to make sure he ended up on the same wagon as Eden.And even though his movements looked chaotic, there was a stubborn determination guiding him toward his goal.
Once he found the right wagon—where Eden was waiting—Melchor carefully slipped inside while everyone else was still loading baggage. He stopped behind a pile of sacks and wooden crates, watching every movement.With a well-timed jump, he darted between the sacks; one crackled beneath his paws, but made no further sound.
He didn't notice a pair of yellow, curious eyes peeking in through the window.They simply watched, waiting for his next move.
Finally, he found the perfect spot between a clothes-sack and a crate of supplies. He crawled in, letting the fabric and wood swallow him. Darkness wrapped around him like a warm cloak.For a moment, Melchor savored the feeling of being invisible. His tail curled to the side, his body tightened, and he stayed still—listening to the rattle of wheels, the murmur of travelers, and the breeze brushing the canvas.
A mischievous, triumphant sigh slipped out of him.If Eden finds me, he'll think I'm a genius, he thought, settling among the sacks, ready for the journey that had just begun.