Love with a Shadow (Private with Sly)

Tall trees helped to conceal her rather large form as she swiftly moved between their rather thick and sturdy branches. Her long whip like tail followed gracefully, dancing among the trees as she jumped from branch to branch. She continued along in the branches, following a rather worn path beneath her. She was rather curious as to where it would lead her, and maybe she would find something from it. However, it wasn’t here day today as it just led to a clearing.

Mythryl released a bit of a sigh of frustration as all of her efforts had just been in vain. She turned away, looking for something else to investigate as she was rather bored on this day. Mythryl greatly disliked that she would sometimes have to engage with other dragons, often finding them annoying, but seeming they weren’t exactly a threat to her or they didn't exactly anger her, she only misted them to make them forget ever seeing her. Sadly though, she was still left with their annoying conversations blabbering in her mind. Still though, it was rather helpful when she needed to obtain information, she could just waltz up to somedragon, have a chat, then poof, they forget instantly. But, naturally, the NightWing found that she really did prefer her own self-inflicted isolation, as it was the state her parents had left her when she had hatched all those years ago. However, she had heard rumours from other dragons about another somewhat mysterious figure. But they were rumours, probably false knowing her luck.

She flicked her tail, clicking her tongue slightly as she turned her head away from the scene and went back into the forest. The rumours were false then, I should have known better than to trust them...  She thought rather bitterly, before she shook her head. Continuing along her way, she just wandered through the paths, finding her way onto the main runway between different places in the large NightWing land. The reason as to why she was so curious was that this dragon had a particular place, and she was rather curious to find out who he was under that mask he always seemed to wear.

Mythryl felt her foot collide with something-hard. She hisses, pulling it up as she then staggers with her other paws and falls into a rather ungracious heap. Snarling to herself, she quickly brushes it off and acts like nothing happened. She ignores little strips of crimson on her paw, shrugging it off as there wasn’t much point to her in sulking about it. And it wasn’t like anyone was watching either.

The herbs here could have seen better days, he thought to himself. They still had the qualities he needed, but better he harvest them now than to let them suffer any further in this sort of wasteland. He plucked them and put them into the medicinal sachet that he always carried, securing them into small vials for each different herb he gathered. It was quite a cold morning, enough to make any lesser dragon stay at home and near a flame, delaying any not-so important chores to a later time. The air in this forest was quite musty, though there were hardly any mushrooms or fungi lying around that he know of. Not to mention it was disturbingly quiet. He did not like this forest to begin with. No one ever goes by here, at least so he thought. He had been around it quite often for the sake of replenishing some old herbs that grow here.

And this was why Sly would always have his senses highly active and scanned his surroundings.

The wind strength was weak, as expected with so many trees growing around here. He stayed on the main path, parting from it no more than 10metres as he collected the herbs. At least he was just about done here, before he could take the long journey back to Shadows Refuge. Sly craned his neck, stretching it as he stared up into the sky. He got sunlight to warm his scales a bit, but not even staying under it would be enough. Sly had to keep moving if he did not want to freeze to death away from the eyes of the public. After bottling the last of the plants, he spun on his claws and made his way back. He dared not to look back, even if the wind seemed to be pulling him further into the depths. Sly should have been used to this now, but it was like walking along a haunted pathway of sorts. The loose pebbles on the mud filled ground did not help ease the feeling, and the trees around him were grown with crooked arms, some of them becoming long, skinny fingers that claws the sky and invade the path before him.

The wind continued to howl like a ghost’s call behind him, picking up dead leaves and sweeping them off to the side. The road before him was lined with these trees, dressed in the shaggy brown and grey leaves, indicating the fall.

Just as he was about to speed his way out, he heard a distant thud, echoing from his right. Then it was complete silence. Should he go investigate? Perhaps it was just some beast killing its prey of some sort, but Sly never saw a single animal living her, partly because everything seemed dead. How curious. He took a deep breath and, taking note of his current location and where he was turning, made his way to the strange noise…

Mythryl, just after pushing herself to her feet after the root rudely tripped her up, glanced around quickly. It didn’t seem that she disturbed any creatures around her, nor did it seem that she had angered the dying trees wrath for daring to touch their twisting roots. A shudder went through her as she limped away from the scene. Subconsciously, she held her head low, almost as if she could try and hide from the mysterious and somewhat creepy atmosphere which the trees held above her. Her footsteps seemed to ring through the forest, even the crumpling of the drying leaves beneath her paws were almost like breaking bones. She, once again, shudders the slightest at the silence of the forest. It was quite eerie, even to her, to walk through the dying trees of the forest.

However, her peace wasn’t to last as she had realized that by looking down, she made a wrong turn. Her ears pricked up, her head quickly spinning and looking from side to side as the trees around her seemed to gather in closer, their branches pointing towards her accusingly for becoming lost in their forest. She curses quietly to herself, feeling her pulse begin to rise as she, all too late, realised her extremely unfortunate mistake. By casting her head down and keeping it that way instead of where she was going, Mythryl had wandered hopelessly from the path that she was meant to be following. Instead, she had made her own smaller track through the forest and into the unknown. What didn’t help her situation was that the dark was also creeping in. Slowly, the shadows began to have fun and play mind games on the dragoness, as the sunlight seemed to be like living flames, seeping through onto the trees which seemed to grab at her in order to hold her in their inferno.

Growling, Mythryl shook her head to try and clear her mind from the creepy atmosphere, her heart pounding within her chest as she opened her eyes again. She was a NightWing, an unknown blip on the radar, how dare she let something as stupid as this freak her out!
Raising her head again with a calm sense around her, she tried to figure out her situation, trying to figure out where she was and how on earth she was going to be able to trace her steps back to where she wandered off track.

There are many reasons why they say to stay on the main path. Monsters were about. You would get lost. It was scary.

None of those phased him. He had been through worse when he was young. And it was not like he always played safe. Though he made sure to walk straight, towards where he heard the sound. Nothing else came from that direction, and all that entered his ears was the cracking leaves beneath his claws. It created a lot of noise, especially if it was quiet. The trees snored quietly, still with their sharp and crooked branches outstretched and stilled, swaying occasionally to remind him they were alive. His chest tightened and he struggled for breath. The air was getting dense.

With every minute the forest got darker. But still he pushed on, ignoring his thumping heart. He wondered why he was this curious over a simple sound in the first place. Maybe a beast he had never seen before? An off-chance that there would be new herbs? Or was he just foolish?

It did not take long before he saw something moving in between the trunks. Something black and red. And Sly froze. His ears perked in that direction, hearing the leaves rustle. Certainly something was here. Friend or foe? He could not tell. Sly slowly moved behind a tree trunk, using his black scales to camouflage with the dark depths of the forest. He kept his eye on this figure.

A dragon. It was about his size, but perhaps slimmer than him. With what little sunlight, it surprised him how the scales manage to glimmer and ripple smoothly like the sea in the night. The red streaks and circles of the body added to the beauty of the scene, like a sea of rubies, or a stream of blood under the darkness where none could see. It amazed him how beauty could be dangerous. The legs were strong, built for running it seemed, and the tail, long and dexterous, weaving between the trees like a sneaking snake.

Sly never saw him or her before, but after a long look and following where it went, he presumed this dragon was lost. He figured he could help them out of here, as long as he could still remember where he came from. With that, he stepped out. My apologies, but it seems you are a little lost. He gave himself quite enough distance from the dragon, in case it would become aggressive towards him. Do you require some assistance? He tilted his head a little and gave his signature smug smile, waiting for a response.

Mythryl was almost wanting to give up on her search back, being slightly foolish with her idea to look down while she went for a walk around.  The trees seemed to be stretching towards her, their thin branches wanting to take her hide for their own. She shuddered, trying to get the images from her mind as they tormented her. Then they talked. Startled, Mythryl let out a small growl as a rather soft spoken voice rang through the forest. But she frowned as it almost seemed as if there was another dragon here. Realising she may be being stalked, Mythryl became nervous from the voice-but she had her back to him. She looked around, her magenta eyes scanning through the woodlands. But they weren’t in front of her, then where were they..? Suddenly a horrible but life saving thought rang into her mind, stemming from a simple question of where were they. The thought took the form which was similar to a voice almost which shouted out to her.

Behind you!

She spun around, lowering to the ground as she saw an outline of the dragon, a white across his head. She quietly growled, nervous an unfamiliar with this. What did they want, was this their way to ambush her? Questions poured from her mind as she watched them, but as they spoke again, she frowned. Slowly, her eyes made out his powerful figure in the dim light from the trees. He has startlingly green eyes, a white mask across his face but she couldn’t tell what it was made of from here. He had a slim body like she did, scales which were black which was why she couldn’t make him out in the darkness which they were in. However, she noticed that his muscles weren’t as profound as hers were. This strange dragon was larger than what she was, but not by much.

She frowned-did he just ask if she were lost? And needed HELP? Maybe this strange creature wasn’t out to kill her after all. She straightened herself, rather hesitantly, from her crouched state before she slowly tilted her head to the side, watching him closely.

"I.." She looked away, breaking eye contact with this dragon as she had thought that perhaps lying may have been a good idea. But she sighed, it probably wouldn't be a very nice thing for her to do if she lied to a dragon which she had only just met. "I suppose... I did somewhat get myself off the path. Do you know the way back?" Mythryl asked in a quiet voice, her voice still firm however, having a bit of an unsettling tone to it. As if she wanted nothing more with this conversation, but it was truly the feeling of fear. Mythryl was more than a little nervous about talking to anyone outside of her family-oh wait.

That didn't exist, not anymore. All because she wasn't as pretty as her parents wanted her to be. She was almost an outcast, due to the fact that her parents abandoned her as soon as they were able to. All because of the crimson spheres and lines across her, a red masked face and the fin-all traits which her parent's didn't want in their child. They wanted a gorgeous male dragon, with beautiful red tipped wings, not these hideous things. Mythryl almost wanted to hit her head against a tree at that moment for remembering what her parents had done to her, but her expression of caution didn't falter on her face as she watched the other NightWing.

All of these thoughts had gone through her mind in the time it took for her voice to finally ring out into the woods around them.

He studied her expression. There seemed to be a mix of different feelings but not one which he could point to with confidence. Something was troubling her. She was a little tense and such. Perhaps she was lost for quite some time and never seen a dragon for more than half a day. But none of those should matter now.

She somewhat gave in to his offer and allowed him to take her back to the main path. Before Sly could turn and begin walking, his eyes caught a glint of red on one of her claws. A wound. A nasty one as well, seeing how she was limping. No. He could not let her walk any further without treatment. She could be a stubborn dragon, but Sly was a healer and would be firm with his word. There were bits of dirt stuck near the wounded portion, and Sly comcluded that she must have tripped somewhere in the forest. A gift of his greater awareness meant he could identify some wounds before the patient could speak anything about it.

You are hurt, Sly said, taking a step closer. Was she friendly or hostile? He could not determine that. This female was very good at hiding her emotion. But Sly would be ready if she responded in an aggressive manner, immediately stepping back if she did. Let me treat your injury first before it gets worse. Fear not, I am a healer. Sly held onto his knapsack and dropped it onto the ground, the flap opening up to reveal vials of an assortment of herbs. He did this to show that he was true to his words and not carrying any weapons of some sort.

The forest seemed to have quietened when the two found their will to speak, and thus their dominating voices echoed across the lesser calls from the shadows and silencing them. It did not make the air any warmer, as every breath Sly made sent a curl of mist from his maw. He almost misjudged as him using his anaesthetic breath. This forest is not friendly to those whose voice and footstep is not familiar to it. Were you with anyone?

Mythryl was more than on edge, she was worried and in pain, the agonising, shooting pains from her paw was causing her great distress. The looming shadows of the twisting woods didn’t help her either, the dead trees almost reaching out to steal them both away into the horrors of the night. However, she didn’t have the time to worry about becoming lost in these creepy woods. The NightWing had offered to take her back to the path, and the least she could do was accept the offer in which they were trying to be nice.

She didn’t mind the NightWing at the distance he was at, but as soon as he spoke, stating that she was injured... He closed that distance. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere from the defensive dragoness, an angry snarl tore through her throat. Quickly, gracefully, she stepped back with her forward paw to try and regain the distance which she had lost. However, the paw was the injured one. A small hiss of pain escaped her maw as she put pressure against the wound, causing the congealed blood to flow once again. But her actions seemed to have the desired outcome, the opposing NightWing taking a step back from her again to allow the distance to return to them. A soft, warning growl rumbled in her chest as she watched him closely.

At his next words, Mythryl kept her small growl, unconsciously holding her paw from the ground as it was way too painful for her to even consider placing it on the ground. "Don't touch them..." Mythryl quietly growled, her voice thick with uncertainty. Her paws were her tools of transportation, her wings weren’t mighty and grand like the others were. She was merely a runner, not a flyer. . . Built for speed, not the flight. If he hurt her paws any more than they already were, she was certain that not only would she lose the ability to be able to walk, but she’d lose her ability to run to her true pace. But he was persistent, the knapsack dropping to the ground as she watched the dragon closely, the snarl slightly stopping as she looked at it. Maybe he is telling the truth... Mythryl thought quietly to herself, her growl dying down. No. My paws are my life!

"I think you should stop, dragon. Healer or not. No one touches my paws." She advised quietly, showing him the true depths of her stubbornness. "I don't use my wings like yourself, or other fancy dragons. I prefer running-so you may want to stand back as I can easily hurt you.. To answer your questions, very few dragons know of my existence, so no. I don't have anyone travelling with me. Mind you, if you even remember any of this, consider yourself lucky." She snarled quietly, becoming well aware of how long this dragon had dared to lay eyes on her for. Inwardly, she began to feel sorry for this NightWing who was just trying to be nice towards her. A slight look of sorrow crossed her eyes at this time, but she knew the dragon probably would have sensed the look.

"If you are a healer as you claim, then who are you?" Mythryl asked the stalker, slightly worried that he may actually be a healer. Well, too bad. He's the idiot who dared to cross my path! No one who does gets to live. A slight angry snarl came from her, as she dug her claws into the ground. The NightWing hissed, her breath releasing some of the emotional mist by accident... Which just so happened to be in the form of her pain.

A genuine concern was perhaps met by a rigid stubbornness. His step forward was far from being welcomed, and he quickly retracted his claws the moment she snarled. He added a bit more distance as well, as if to assume that distance was what she wanted before she would settle down. And his offer to help her was swiftly declined. No doubt she valued her claw, and even let him know of her special trait in running. This only added more worry to him. If the claw was left as it is, it would surely be infected and, if the worse came, she would not be able to run any longer.

But he could not force her. If she refused, she refused. Even with blood running down her leg. Sly was unsure how long that leg was wounded, but it would probably help a bit if she were to suddenly fall unconscious from blood loss. That way, he could help her before she woke up and leave her be. Sly sat where he was, frowning a little at her question. She wanted to know his name. So it seemed Sly was not all-known throughout the Empire. He expected it as much, since he was a mere healer and they probably had other better things to do. But then, why would she be interested in his name? The mask that he wore would have given everything away. Sly just smirked a little, turning to hide it. Now that he had taken some interest into joining the ranks of assassins within the Empire, he would better keep his advantage of discretion. I am known throughout the Empire as Sly.

Then again, she did not wear a very good ‘mask’ herself. He caught a glimpse of a change in expression from her stoic and aggressive emotion. A hint of…sadness? He took note of it at the back of his mind before answering her question.

He graced her with a small bow. I did not come here for trouble of any sorts. But it seems my path crossed with yours. Perhaps a lucky coincidence. Then his stomach curled, and he wanted to double over. As if it was in agony. But in the same time, it was not. Something hurt. Looking at the wounded leg, it suddenly flared within him. His leg. It was as if the psychological pain of seeing a wound on another suddenly became real and transmitted to him. Sly checked his leg but it seemed perfectly fine. He then dropped his smile a bit, partly because he could not maintain it with this nuisance, but also ensuring that he was being a little more serious in tone with his next sentence. If you do value your claw, then please let me at least examine it for any ailments that may cause you to lose it.

Mythryl was seemingly content as the NightWing did indeed back off.  But she couldn’t help a frown to form on her face as he turned his head away from her. What was he doing-hiding something most likely, due to him being a little bit of a scheming NightWing similar to herself. However, it was clear that he didn’t know that even turning his face away from her was a rather bad idea. Right here and now, she could easily just spit out a puff of her forgetting mist and be done with this entire situation. A pain in her foot stopped her, and she sighed. That wasn’t the best idea she could have. . . she didn’t know how far her claw would be able to make the distance, and it was clear that this Sly character actually seems to be a healer. She had never heard of him before, nor seen him in the kingdom. However, she herself was also a bit of an exile, living in the outskirts of the cities and away from most of the dragons. “I might agree with you, but luck is something which I don’t believe in.” She mutters quietly, watching him closely.

Mythryl frowned, wanting to quickly take a step forward to ask Sly what was wrong as he seemingly checked his leg. Then her blood seemed to freeze. It drained from her face, leaving it slightly pale as she looked at him, realizing her dreadful mistake. Inwardly cursing, she knew what had happened. The silly black and red NightWing allowed her stupid mist to escape from her maw, and now he really did feel the pain shooting through her. A sigh came from her lips. He was serious as he demanded his next order from her. Mythryl snarled quietly at her idiocy, glancing with uncertainty to Sly. She didn’t want to put her beloved paw in the hands of a stranger-but it seemed as if she didn’t have a choice.

Mythryl took a deep breath in, shakily looking to Sly. For a few moments, she gauged what he was looking like, any anger or malice in him. The only thing which was different was the fact that his smile had faltered due to her idiocy of letting her mist go. Hesitantly, she stepped towards him once again. Every inch of her really didn’t want to be doing this, and her legs barely moved when she told them to due to the downright fear which she had towards this NightWing. If he took away her claw, she would be as good as a tooth pick.

“Just don’t do anything..” She murmured quietly, almost seemingly scared about him doing something crippling to her. “And my apologies, it seems that you got a bit of a taste of my mist. It transfers the emotions which I am feeling onto someone else.” Mythryl explained nervously, before holding her paw up so that Sly was able to have a clear investigation towards it. It was a rather nasty wound, dirt caked through the join and the smooth cut from where she hurt herself. It was deep, and had widened up on her leg when she had continued on her reckless walk through the woods.  All in all, it wasn’t a really nice injury. “It’s not too good is it?” Mythryl inquired, her voice almost downcast.

It was only just a bit of mist that he inhaled, and the pain no more than a sting like he was pricked by a large needle. Or stung like a bee. Still painful, but if that was only just a mild version of what this female was feeling, then he would be concerned. She was very brave to be able to push the pain away up to now. But more of a reason for Sly to quickly examine her claw as well.

Her attitude was rather… interesting. Overvaluing her claw aside, she exerted a rather mysterious aura. Just moments ago she was highly aggressive and did not allow him a single step forward, but now she rather trusting of him. Her expression was rather tense, but aside from that, he could not read anything else. He was quite gifted in that he could pick up hidden emotions from just looking at an expression, but she would be the first where he had troubles trying to figure her out. Her name was yet to be known, but it would not be polite of him to ask of it. She could give it to him only by her free will.

However, the female exposed some emotion. It was anger, but it did not seem to be against Sly. He did not go into any further detail when she finally allowed him to see her claw. Sly moved slowly and carefully towards her, his mind searching if he had met her somewhere. Maybe he had walked past her at some point, or even caught a glimpse at her sitting somewhere near a tree. But nothing clear and vivid came to him. He could probably need to check the records in Shadows Refuge.

For now, he had her claw. Sly was careful not to touch it, else he would lose an eye if he did. The wound was certainly deep and the scaly flesh parted to reveal the sickening pink flesh underneath it, oozing a bit of blood from lacerations that had yet to clot completely. It was rather hard to see the extent of the damage with all the bits of dirt and twig stuck to it. The female commented about her injury, and Sly could not agree more. He chose not to speak, fearing it would make her somewhat disheartened that there was any way to fix it.

Sly pulled his knapsack closer. The first thing he did was pulled out a small vial of clear liquid. It was alcohol. Sly laid it on the ground before him and twisted the lid open. This will sting a bit. He warned. Sly tilted the bottle, the liquid already touching the brim, and he looked up to see if the female was ready. However she responded, Sly waited until she did not move much before tilting the whole liquid on top of it. Quickly the brown much was washed away, and the red and pink flesh shone brightly before him. The fumes entered his nostrils and he shook it off a bit before going back to his knapsack. He prepared a bowl and pestle, tossed a selection of herbs and ground it quickly. He figured he would prepare this mixture while the female endure the pain, and by the time it ceased, he would be ready to apply this mixture over the wound. My apologies. He said for the alcohol.

Sadly, Mythryl was a dragon who barely let the details slip through her gaze. Even though the dragoness watched Sly like a hawk as he moved closer to her injured foot, she knew that his silence wasn’t entirely a good thing. Generally, silence was never something that was good for a medic. A small inward sigh made her shoulders sink slightly in dismay, knowing that the news wasn’t the best. However, to keep this from showing on her face, she turned her gaze away and found great interest in studying the trees around them. She still felt on edge about their spindly branches reaching out towards them, the eerie silence still grating on her nerves. The addition of this NightWing did help the feeling, but it was still painfully there, under the surface of the skin.  

Mythryl only had a few moments of warning before Sly, a so-called healer, poured the alcohol onto her skin. The deep wound stung, and she snarled at the pain, pulling her claw back away from the source of pain with a natural recoiling reaction. The dragons scales also involuntarily shifted, the powerful spines suddenly thrusting forth from her scales as she had pulled back. This was a natural reaction, one to keep her more protected. It was a state that very few (if any) other NightWings shared with her.  However, the scales around her paw didn’t change. This would occur only to signify rather deep and significant injuries. She shook her claw slightly, trying to get the pain away from her as she glanced at Sly. Thankfully, he seemed to be too busy making a sort of paste to try and help with the injury.

At his apology, Mythryl became rather amused from this and she laughed quietly, smiling at him as she tried to hide her nervousness. “It’s quite alright. I understand that it’s to at least to try to help with the injury. However, I must admit, that was not a pain which I was expecting to experience from such a small wound. But something tells me that there’s a small detail which you are refusing to tell me, Sly...” She said quietly, retracting the unusual state to restore her more appropriate and natural appearance. “And... May I inquire as to if you noticed that other part?” Myrthyl tried to cover her concern with a more relaxed tone, her claw aching painfully from the alcohol. She stole a quick glance at it, and her stomach almost flipped from the blood and swelling from the wound. Her face visibly tightened, realizing that it really was much worse then she had predicted.

"Stupid Mythryl, what would your parents say to this..." She muttered, presenting the claw back to Sly so that the healer was able to look at it closer once again.

She was very brave, if not reckless, considering how she reacted to the alcohol. It was meant to feel like it was burning into one’s flesh, but a must if the wound were to heal. With a dragon as aggressive as her, he expected her to lash out or growl against him. At least yell at him as if he did something wrong. Well, something did happen, though not what he expected. Her spines stood erect, making her figure seem larger and more menacing, as she pulled her claw back. He apologised to her again, as if in case she did not hear his first. After making the said mixture, he poured the same alcohol over one of his claws before dipping the slender talons into the mix. The texture was very smooth and sticky, though slightly runny, and it gave of a strong herbal scent. When she offered her claw again, he carefully spread the salve over the wound, making sure to apply it generously. The alcohol may have numbed the wound a bit, but he expected the worst.

This female then asked for what he was hiding about the wound. Sly just stiffened a bit, but continued to apply the mixture nonetheless. The wound needs immediate attention. That is all, Sly answered. Had I not been here, you would have to pray for a miracle by the time your wound came to my attention back at Sh- there, he bit his tongue. Shadows Refuge. The place was notorious, partly due to the rebel of the Empire that owned it. For now, it did not need any more attention, and telling a stranger where he worked could hurt their trust on him. Back at our clinic, he quickly said. It was a bit too late, now that she knew he was hiding something. Then again, she was hiding her name despite Sly giving his.

Almost done, Sly said, reaching the sachet for a neatly folded piece of fabric. Beside it was a small jar of honey. He dipped his claws into the honey before spreading it over the surface of the fabric. Then he stuck it carefully over the wound. Once that was done, he fished for a rolled-up bandage and began to wrap it over the dressing. It would take quite a while, but at least the wound could finally start healing. He decided to break the silence. What brings you to this forest?

Mythryl felt herself slowly become bored with this NightWing even though he was helping her. She just found that his conversations lacked any sense of meaning and direction. Myth occasionally pulled her paw back away from him, a small snarl tugging at the corner of her maw as she felt the sticky solution grip to the walls of her wound to try and pull them back together. A small whimper came from her as he prodded and poked the mixture back to fill the deep cut.

She had not noticed that he had slightly stiffened, but still, his answer didn’t satisfy her. If I were you, I would get better at lying. Mind you, I had never heard of a place in the NightWing kingdom, especially one which starts as you had said... The ‘Sh’ or something? It was like you went to say Shade or Shadow or something along those lines. Where did you actually want to say?

Mythryl gave Sly a partial shrug, as well as a partial glare as he foolishly kept his secrets. Not many NightWings were brave enough to try and keep information hidden from her, and she sighed quietly. Inwardly, she knew that Sly wanted to know her name; however, her sly nature wouldn’t allow herself to give her name away so easily, it just wasn’t right for her.

As Sly declared that he was almost done, she lowered her head slightly to him in a sign of submission to try to thank him.My deepest thanks Sly. She mumbled quietly, watching as he put the bandage over and across her wounds. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to rip her paw away from her, she took it gingerly from where he was working on it and carefully placed it on the ground. A small hiss of pain came from her as the pain shot through her paw again. However, it was greatly lessened from what it was, and she smiled slightly up at him. Thank you Sly, I appreciate what you have done. My apologies, I am rather... well, cold to newcomers or people who I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if you were friend or foe, which is why I have been so distrusting of you. I... suppose fair is fair however... My name is Mythryl.

She decided that she may as well have given him her name... Besides, it’s not like he would remember it...

I was actually searching the forest for someone, someone who was... rumoured to be somewhat similar to me. I don’t know their name, looks, just that they seem to come to this forest regularly. Typically, I should have known better then to believe rumours, all they do is leave you expecting something which does not exist. I mean, which other NightWing would have the unfortunate claim of being abandoned by their parents... Simply because you weren’t perfect. Mythryl spat the last comment out, snarling quietly as she felt a bitterness rage through her.

She hated her parents for leaving her, for forcing her to embrace the cold world alone. Myrthyl had asked for none of it, all she wanted was a normal life...

As expected, he heard her inquire about him wanting to say something else. He looked up at her with a raised eyeridge before finishing up on the bandaging and packing his equipment. Really, there was very little use for him to keep his workplace a huge secret. After all, he was no longer there all the time. His time had been divided even further thanks to training with the Nightwing assassin. No one else but Loque within the Shadows Refuge would know about it. Shadows Refuge, he answered with a smirk.

This female, who then gave her name as Mythryl, was not the first curious dragon he had met. Some secrets worth more than others, and he made sure to keep those locked up in the back of his mind. Perhaps she would know of Shadows Refuge, its inhabitants and the rumours circling them that they housed those who do not agree with Oculus’ regime. Sly knew he had his fair share of patients asking for his workplace, and then getting up and leave after hearing the very name of the place. Others endured having to bear with his presence, knowing he was perhaps the only star healer who knew of complex ailments. At this point, he did not care anymore. He was done with her treatment and he could let her know without her having to storm away in the midst of this.

Sly bowed to her when she expressed her gratitude for mending her wound. It was a different aura, from her somewhat cold and demanding aspect of her mind to something that was more…apologetic. She went on to explain of her harshness, relating it to how she trusted others. How interesting. So this was some mask she would put up to protect herself. But as to how one manage gain her trust, it was another story. Oh, just doing my duties as a medic. There is no need for an apology, Mythryl. He spoke with a rather coy voice, a gentle smile that, if one were to look at it long enough, would seem eerie and too innocent.

She then answered his question regarding on why she was here to begin with. To search for someone similar to her? Sly did not know enough of Mythryl to also know who she was referring to. But he did not recall anyone else willing to wander into the thin and crooked arms of this decaying forest. Especially on a regular basis as she said. Sly nodded to her when she said those were mere rumours, and perhaps let him know that this special dragon she was looking for was abandoned…just like her?

This made Sly stiffen, his smug smile dropping a little. He also picked up that she seemed to…bear a grudge against her parents for abandoning her due to some imperfection? Indeed. Rumours are only rumours, tending to lead one astray, if not in an endless spiral. I know not of the one you seek, but if there is anything I know of this forest, it is that finding a regular here is like trying to find star in the daylight. Well, aside from the sun. This was, to him, half-true. Sly did come here rather often and for a moment he thought she was referring to him. He did hatch from an abandoned egg, but the reasons for that was not clear to him. And he doubted he would ever find out.

Sly gave another friendly smile. My apologies for the fruitless search. But maybe you know the name of such dragon? If you permit me, I can try and find them within our records.

(( I have permission to do this incredible powerplay via Sly ))

Mythryl was a little surprised to hear of the Shadow Refuge, but she couldn’t get past the small little smugness this NightWing seemed to have. His constant smirking was grating against her scales in all the wrong ways. It was like he was constantly hiding something, acting out, not being himself. Just like the mask that she always had to wear to protect her from harm. At the mention of the Shadow Refuge, her eyes seemed to glint for a second of recognition before she turned her face away and nodded to herself. She most definitely had heard of the place before. If she remembered correctly, it was an isle off from the coast and towards the FireWing land... Maybe she would go there.

As the sly dragon had thought, Mythryl did know more of the place than what she would let on. The rumours which she had known of were more truth than false. Her victims normally caved into their lust before telling Myrthryl everything she wanted to know. She used the base knowledge to be able to get them to do as she desired, her emotional mist helping greatly to achieve her deception, half forcing dragons to have feelings for her. Love conquers all, even their own foolishness. But she used it in a crippling and a manipulative way to get one what she wanted and needed.

Shame that this NightWing would somewhat befall the same fate.

She watched him as he spoke, the voice somewhat off to her, an unnatural speech that he seemed to naturally deliver. Almost as if he was a naturally cunning mastermind. Mythryl was slightly wary of him. What didn’t exactly help was his smile, a completely false one that stuck Mythryl to her core. Everything about him seemed superficial, but why? She couldn’t hold that for long as she seemed to have temporarily strike a nerve. What caused him to falter? To stop in his tracks - and get that darn smug smile off his face. Mythryl allowed a small smirk of her own to form, feeling as if she had somewhat beaten Sly at his own game.

“Well, at least I know now that my search was in vain.” Mythryl lowered her voice to a soft mumble, a partial smile on her face. A small purr came from her as she counted that her time was almost up, the five-minute marker of encountering him. She needed to time this perfectly, just like all of her other victims. She stepped slightly closer to Sly, her muzzle coming closer to his. “Thank you Sly, I greatly appreciate your help. But I was hoping to find their name while I was out here looking for them. Sadly, you don’t seem to be the one I’m after... Perhaps I could entice you into helping in another way though?” Mythryl purred, allowing her throat to fill with her forgetting mist.

Quite quickly and suddenly, Mythryl pressed her muzzle against his in a kiss. She partially allowed a calming and lustful sense to wash over her as she first exhaled a small piece of her emotional mist. Mythryl smirked as she felt him sharply inhale against her cool muzzle, the mist warping his emotions almost straight away. After a few moments of his stunned silence, he slowly responded to the kiss passionately in response to the mist. For a moment, Mythryl was surprised that he actually seemed to be able to kiss a fellow dragon. Maybe there was past experience in this, but Mythryl didn't dwell on the thoughts. It wasn't like it mattered anyway.

Against her own lips, she felt his part the slightest. That's when she did the worst part of her work.

Her forgetting breath that she had built up over the time they had locked in their kiss suddenly streamed into Sly’s mouth. It didn’t take long for her to have expelled the gas into him, and she pulled away from him. He seemed partially dazed, his eyes glazed as his own memories of her were slowly taken from his memory she looked back at him from where she had stood.

For reasons she could never understand or fathom, she felt bad for what she had done to the rather helpful NightWing. Mythryl NEVER felt bad for doing anything like this. Neither in the past nor would she in the future. She just didn’t feel bad for it. As she has backed away from him, moving away so that he couldn’t see her, she tilted her head to the side. Reaching further towards the mysterious and decaying trees, she sighed quietly to herself and her eyes were drawn back to him once more.

Suddenly, a spontaneous, soft and somewhat concerned purr came from her.

Realising that she would have been heard and the noise would now be remembered, she felt her blood freeze in her veins. Nothing seemed to be going according to plan this day. First her paw, and now this! It was like fate itself was against her. Trying to think quickly, she dashed into the wood to hide from his form. She was well aware that he was most likely looking for her right now. However the last thing that she could allow was for her retreating form to actually be seen by him.

---

It had been only a few days since she had half forced the poor NightWing to forget her. Mythryl didn’t feel the best for the actions that she had done and was slowly coming to terms with the horrible thing that she had done. In annoyance, she shoved the annoying thought aside. What was more important now was to find that healer again. Her paw hadn’t been healing quite as he had told her it would. Mind you, he didn’t say anything about it healing. She just didn't think that it should be causing her to have dizzy spells and be rather itchy and swollen.

So here she was, limping heavily through the Shadow Refuge in order to find this healer. The only healer to exist that she trusted in any shape or form.

Painfully she limped across the alleys and through the rather high water. Previously, there was a rather heavy downpour that flooded the streets and some small parts of different dens, caves and homes. Normally dragons would avoid this place but the rather nervous dragon kept to the shadows. She avoided many of the crowded streets and hung away from main groups. Mythryl searched the homes, the stores, everything without being seen or really noticed by other dragons. She didn’t want or need the outward attention. But alas, everything was turning up negative. Nothing that she searched seemed to house this cunning creature. Still, Mythryl kept wandering through the cities to try and find him.

Becoming lost once again, she half gave up with this ludicrous chase. Silently, she lured a rather drunken NightWing back into the alleyways, before using her mists against them once more. She struggled to be able to pull her trick off as her lungs seemed to try and close in on themselves. However, her victim was rather willing to tell her exactly what she wanted to know, especially after they thought they may have gotten more than what Mythryl ever would give to a rather weird and chubby NightWing. He also, rather helpfully, informed her that he was in fact in that day as they had recently been there just a few hours earlier to deal with some internal issues. Mythryl had guessed it was something to do with his liver, especially considering how much this NightWing seemed to have been drinking.

After finding out exactly where this Sly character was, Mythryl decided to make her way over to them. It was rare for her to seek another dragon out again, but she needed his help again. He seemed to be trustworthy the first time so maybe he would show that helpfulness to her once again.

Making sure that she wasn’t seen by too many more others, Mythryl quickly cleared away as much of the mud and water as she could before she slowly pushed her way through the rather awkward crowds of dragons. Her heart thundered in her chest as she prayed that not many dragons would pay any attention to her. She hated crowds to her very core. Finding the entrance to the place she wanted, she slowly pushed herself in through the doors, silently slipping inside. There was a few NightWings there, who all seemed to be waiting anxiously to either visit or for their friends or family to finally come out of the clinic.

The scent of sterilisers and cleanliness made her eyes water, not use to having air so contaminated with different cleaning agents. She understood that there were reasons behind using them, but she hated the smell. Realising that she was partially standing there like an idiot, she slowly walked forward. Mythryl had never been in a place like this. Mythryl partially winced as the doors slammed shut behind her, a snarl almost tearing through her throat at the sound in a natural defence. She bit her tongue, trying not to let it bother her so much. Quickly, her aching foot took over her bothered-ness again.

Seeing no dragons around who seemingly seemed like they were running the place, Mythryl quietly wandered over to the corner of the room. There it was dark and the natural dull lighting calmed her partially. With a huff, she sat down unhappily. Praying that not many dragons would notice her, she raised her paw to look at it further. The bandage had been torn away a time ago, but the substance Sly had decided to put into her was reacting rather badly. As the coolness of the hospital brushed over here, she shuddered slightly. The coolness was almost freezing to her, and she curled her tail tightly around herself. Mythryl was known for being stubborn with her pain tolerance and she had refused to see anyone when she first realised something wasn’t quite right. Her paw was incredibly swollen and was covered in rashes.

She hid the paw quickly again, her throat feeling as if it would close in on itself, feeling partially dizzy as she partially lowered her neck. Mythryl tried to keep herself from not having her head spinning, trying to keep it straight so that she wouldn’t faint. Mythryl snarled inwardly, wondering if the so called healer had actually poisoned her with what he had put in her paw.

If any dragon were to try and approach her, initially she would growl at them. However, it would only be for a moment until she remembered that she was actually in a clinic for her paw. However, no matter what, Mythryl wouldn't budge from her place for the dragon near her. Unless Sly was the one who tried to move the stubborn NightWing, as he was the only one she somewhat trusted.

The mere mention of the name let off more than enough reaction from her for him to determine that she never knew the place. Or at least those that mattered. However, she seemed to have picked up something bitter from him that made her this unnerving. Perhaps it was his demeanour. He recalled falling to using that tactic whenever he was being cornered into a bad situation or if he wanted to avoid a topic altogether by distracting them from their purpose. For Mythryl’s purpose, it was not that clear, but he figured she was trying to learn more from him, or at least about Shadows Refuge. Not that any of that were secrets anyways.

He listened carefully as she let him know of her fruitless search. Something about that was not right, made even more so with that small smile she was trying to hide. And the purring? Before he could absorb all this, she brought her snout far too close into his personal space that he did a half-step back. She thanked him and asked if he could assist her some another way. Sly would have responded quickly if she were not that close to him, and his instincts told him to back away a bit more.

Just as he was doing so, she pressed her snout against his. In his shock, he gasped a pocket of air from her maw. Before he could think about pulling away and apologise, like he had done something shameful, his head started to whirl. And suddenly those thoughts were extinguished. He did not want to pull away. Instead, something was nagging him to move…closer? Why? It was hard to hold onto that question, like a simple string breaking apart as this sensation grew stronger. He tried to, but it seemed he could not reason anymore. His muscles slowly relaxed, and allowed himself to sink deep into her lust.

And at that exact moment he was alone in the forest again. He was just sitting here, stiff like a statue. Testing his maw, he realised he was not so much as puckering his maw as if he really was kissing and was imagining things. Was it a daydream? But daydreaming of what? Sly licked his maw but it felt dry already. Like it really was just some hallucination. He was out here for one reason, and that was to gather herbs. Then return to the main path and back to Shadows Refuge. He wondered if he had fallen asleep. It wold explain why he veered off the path so much.

But he heard a purr. It sound…familiar. Like he had heard it before. Sly discarded it as another part of his daydream. But in the aftermath of it all, at the very moment he woke up, his body was still flaring from something. Like what he had endured was very real. Thinking about gave him a headache. Not wishing to dabble on it any further, he hurried back to the Refuge.

---

A few days went by. Sly had recorded the incident of his hallucination that he could not seem to recall. There was perhaps a huge time gap from the moment he was walking down the path to when he fell asleep and slept walk in the middle of the forest. Recalling what happened gave him the tremors. After collecting the herbs, he was just casually walking down the path. Then suddenly, he was at another part of the forest, with only a purr in between the ‘skip’. So far this did not happen and Sly resumed his work.

This time, he was within a clinic. Walking down the quiet hall, he passed by every room and checked if his patients were doing fine. Some of them just suffered a bad injury and would be out in a few days. Others had diseases that required constant treatment. It was a very depressing, if not stressful and unnerving, atmosphere. Where Sly worked was only an average middle-classed clinic with barely anything special. He preferred to work here because the higher medical places were boring with the same common illnesses. Here, thanks to a less than comfortable lifestyle of these dragons, he got to deal with things that made his profession more worthwhile.

Sly was called to the reception when another patient had walked in, and when he asked them, they directed him to a black and red dragon perching in a darkened corner of the waiting room. They did not seem unwell at all, saved for that claw, which looked badly swollen. An allergic response to something that caused an infection perhaps? No matter how simple or complex that ailment is, it was a little disappointing and underwhelming. Alright, Sly said with a smirk. I will take her. He grabbed the folder which the receptionist had dumped onto his tray and looked at the form which this patient should have signed. If he had to be honest, he was rather amused with what she put in there. Insert Name Here? He called out, looking directly at that dragon in the corner with a raised eyeridge. Sly then beckoned her to follow, leading her to his examination room.

It was quite a small room, filled with the essentials like a bed, a spell circle on the ground, and a bench full of an assortment of equipment and potions. After leading her inside, he shut the door behind them. Alright, Insert. What can I do for you?

Mythryl was struggling to keep her face expressionless as she felt herself slowly grow light headed, something feeling as if it was closing across her chest. Mythryl almost sensed it before she heard it. A voice... Instantly she recognised it as the rather unusual healer, the one who always seemed to keep things hidden from her. Sly. So he was here after all, which was a relief to her. Slowly, she raised her head to look at him, trying to break the cloudy haze around her. At the mention of what she wrote, a small smirk pulled at her maw. She really didn't want them to know her name, preferring the ominous sense that she carried. At his command, Mythryl limped across the walkway to follow him. Eventually, she gave up using the damaged paw and just held it gingerly by her side.

Admittedly, Mythryl had never been in a clinic before, so all of the sights were new to her. The bed, the essentials, the very layout of a covered room... Everything seemed so different, so new, so... Odd.

As he asked his question, she felt her heart pound nervously. How was she going to explain it, did she need to tell him everything or just what's wrong... Should she tell him the truth? Mythryl raised her head to look at him, before inclining her head slightly. "To keep it simple I'll give a... shortened version.. But I think it's rather obvious what's wrong... I injured my paw on the way back from a forest." She raised her paw, which she had tried to clean out in a stream, however, the stuff was rather unpleasant and didn't leave her paws injury. Whatever Sly had put in there, it certainly stuck to the wound rather well. Normally, she would have just left it, but she knew that something was horribly wrong with what SLY had done to it.

"While I was there, someone who claimed to be a healer helped me and had put some... Rather weird thing in my paw to help it to heal and stop any infections. I don't think it worked as planned... Since then, my paw has been swollen and covered in rashes. That and as time has progressed breathing seems... To be becoming an issue."  Mythryl was forced to take breaks in her sentences, allowing herself time to try to catch up with her breathing. Slowly, she considered telling this NightWing it was him, just because she was annoyed.

But the stupid mist wouldn't allow him to remember. As far as he was concerned, Mythryl was just some dragon with an injury to be treated. A boring one at the very least.

The room was deathly quiet the moment he shut the door, with only the two inside. He did not really need to ask her why she was here, as he was predicting that it was related to the badly swollen leg of hers. She was limping her way here as well. But that was not what he was more concerned about. Something about her seemed… familiar to him. He was not sure what and could not place a claw on what it was. But would it not be awkward if he said it to her if she was here just to get her leg checked?

After answering his question, the female confirmed that it was her paw. She also went on to explain that she was in a forest and had encountered a healer, who attempted to patch her leg. Sly studied the wound carefully. Whoever this healer was, they seemed to share the same idea he had in applying the same herbal mix over the wound and dressing it with a honey salve. It was rather impressive that there was another healer who know of these herbs, which would only grow in a somewhat forgotten forest. But very unfortunate that the patient suffered an allergic reaction to one of the ingredients. Sly felt… baffled to say the least. Usually when a patient came in because of a poorly managed treatment of their ailments, Sly would take a moment to criticise the methods used by the healers around here. But this one… he had nothing to say, except maybe the healer should have asked for any known allergies.

Alright, Sly said after a pause. It seems you have suffered an allergic response with one of the ingredients of this mixture. We will need to get your wound cleaned off before I will give you an alternate treatment. This way. Sly walked towards the other end of the room and, placing a paw on a spellcircle, activated the tap before him that started to fill a trough that laid across the wall. Water began to pour in and drain away, and Sly told the female to dip her wound in it, for it contained healing and cleansing properties. Just out of curiosity, who is this healer that you speak of…madam? Is there another name I should call you, or should I continue to call you “Insert” or “Ms. Here”? He paid careful attention to how she answered the two questions while he moved to a bench against another wall. There, he began to grind and mix a set of herbs and putting drops of potions into the bowl. This treatment was a bit milder than the one this patient had a reaction to, but it should still get the job done.

Mythryl could almost sense that Sly was rather confused with the state of her paw as he investigated what was laying on it. She quietly watched him, her head slightly tilted with her eyes glazed in a partial light headedness that came from her lack of oxygen. However, she was curious as to how he seemed to be taken aback, not sure as to who would have come up with the same methods that he had. She almost felt like teasing him about the fact that he had outsmarted himself, or something close to that.

Lowering her head in acknowledgement as to what he said, Mythryl followed him to the spell circle. As the water filled the sink, she winced slightly, not really wanting to put her paw into the unknown liquid. Was it alcohol again? She didn’t want to go through that pain again. Quietly whining to herself, the NightWing turned her head to Sly, a small frown on her face. “Are you sure that this is safe for me to put my paw in...?” Mythryl asked, somewhat unsure. “I cannot fly as well as others, but my running is my forte. I cannot afford this to be injured...” She warned, before inhaling and slowly placing her paw into the water.

To her surprise it was a rather warm heat and, after realising that it wasn’t going to burn, injure or hurt her, she relaxed slightly, almost letting a tiny purr coming from her as it soothed her injured paw. She managed to hold it in, looking up to him again as the substance he originally threw into the wound slowly washed away. Idly with her other paw, she gently picked away at the sticky stuff to try and get all of it out of her. Considering how to answer his question, she looked back to her paws. A small, sad look formed on her face as she looked back into the water. Inwardly, she was panicking, not knowing how to answer his question. She didn’t consider him asking this, but she had to come up with an answer.

“You see, I do not exactly know his name, he was rather cunning and someone who always wore a smirk on his face. He was rather sly in my eyes, however, I trusted him not to do any damage and this was the reward that he decided to give me. A giant injury and the potential loss of my ability to walk... My paw as a whole.” She snarled, seemingly bitter towards the one who did this. However, inwardly, she really couldn’t blame him for trying to help. Neither of them knew that this would happen.

“As for a name... I suppose you can call me Mythryl, because I am merely a myth in these lands.” Mythryl said, giving Sly a small wink at her name. It was a half joke, but it still was the truth as not many knew of the crimson stalker of the night. “However, seeming you know my name, what is yours?” She inquired, trying not to sound too awkward about the request as Mythryl already knew his name.

How could she ever forget Sly?

It did not really occur to him that this patient was perhaps a runner than a flyer, when she asked if it was safe for her to dip her paw into the water. He kept that knowledge to the back of his head as he turned to her for a brief second before going back to grinding the herbs. The water has healing properties without any pain. He answered her. Though she found her trust before he could finish speaking when she finally dipped her paw into the water. Studying her expression, there was no cringe or snarl. Instead, she seemed very relaxed.

She just seemed like any ordinary patient, but Sly could not shake off the feeling that he had known her somewhere. The red and black scales? Her valuing of her claws? Those seemed to spark the most faintest of light in the depths of his memories, but he could never reach it. Just who is this dragon? It would be rude of him to ask, as it was not in his place to do so. After he finished grinding the herbs to make the alternate paste, he washed his claws and carried the bowl over to her. It was moss-green with a very smooth texture, but also viscous as well so it would not dribble over her. As she answered his other questions, he applied the paste over the wound.

Then he froze. The description of this healer sounded a lot like him. Cunning. Always smirking. And he was the one who treated her? Now that he thought about it, this paste which she had a reaction to also seemed faintly familiar to him. He could not focus on it too much or it would be very awkward if he suddenly paused in the middle of the treatment. Sly just smiled at her after she finished. I suppose he should have known better. It was likely he was talking about himself and some magic was at play. A memory spell perhaps?

The name Mythryl also sound quite familiar. And it was too much of a coincidence to conclude it as such. She then asked for his name.

After finishing the paste, Sly leaned back a little and studied her carefully, his eyes mixing between green and yellow. Should he continue to play this game? It was perhaps obvious at this point that she knew his name. The two met somewhere before, and Myth knew way too much about Sly. Or maybe she just studied him well enough. He could not really jump to conclusions. Just who is she, he wondered.

They all call me Sly, he answered. I grew up not knowing my name, so I took what others in the Empire call me. But enough about me. You seem to know a lot about me anyways. Have we met before? Sly asked as he pulled a fresh new role of bandages and wrapped her claw in it to cover the wound.

She was rather amused to hear the familiar sounds of the herbs being ground into the paste. Idly, her claws managed to peel away the last of the sticky substance, but the water finally got slightly to her as she slightly gritted her teeth from it. The sensation of something washing through the damaged skin sent spikes of pain through her, but she tried to tolerate it. Tried to hide it so that she wasn't seen as weak in front of this healer. Testing to see what it would be like, Mythryl raised her injured paw free from the water. She was greeted by an incredible pain, one that threw stars into her vision. Quickly, she put the paw back into the soothing waters, trying not to cause too much of a scene.

Mythryl was beginning to feel that something was off, not quite right with this situation. It was supposed to be simple, come in, get her aching paw fixed and leave without Sly really knowing who she was. Mythryl could almost sense it from the way he spoke. Stating that he should have known better. Mythryl was careful not to actually say that it was Sly who treated her, but if the healer was able to figure it out from just a few things... Especially from the weird honey substance in her paw, then she needed to be incredibly careful.

More careful with her words than she originally anticipated.

Mythryl glanced up in time to see his eyes glint from a yellow to green, a mixture of the two. She had never seen him do this before, and instantly Mythryl was on guard. The NightWing wasn't nervous at the sudden change in his eye colour, however, she was more wary. On guard. She kept her composure, but her eyes watched him closely. Mythryl took the paw free from the water, the pain clouding her mind again as she temporarily forgot about being cautious around Sly.

"I can't say that we have met at all really," Mythryl lied, the impulse from it coming from the fact that her paw ached still, "Why do you ask that of me? Do you think I'm being a bit too... well, detailed with my explanations to you?" Mythryl asked, but as he gently placed the bandage around the wound, Mythryl's mask somewhat faltered. In some ways, the wound was pain-free as he wrapped the bandage around it. For reasons she couldn't fathom, his touch was so incredibly gentle, something that she really didn't anticipate. It wasn't like the first time where he was more rushed... He took his time with his work, making sure not to hurt her. The gentle touch from his paw was enough to break Mythryl.

A sudden yet soft and gentle purr came from her.

It was not in his position to make any judgements based on superstition. The purpose of his call was not to accuse her of anything, but to create a response that would perhaps reveal sonething in greater detail. His approach was not met with a reward, as she seemed to be able to hold onto the mask over some secret. Then again, she was concentrated on the pain more than what he was saying. Her answer was calm and collected. She responded with another question of her own.

She was being way too detailed about him. Sly's thought drifted away for a moment before he decided to shake it off. Another way for her to know this much about him was if she came from administrations and yook note of his profile. A little, Sly said as he started to wrap the bandages over her. For some reason the touch felt strange to him. Not really that of affection or sensitivity, but more of familiarity. He felt those soft scales before, but could not remember where.

Then his ears perked to her purr. It all hit him. That purr. He had that from the forest. The time his memories blacked out. As he thought of this, his heart started to pound heavily. The wound. He first needed to concentrate on that. Then he could talk with her.

You were there, he said firmly. The tone of his voice would prove that he would not falter from his position no matter what tricks she would try. Back at the forest. You were there when I lost my menories. His voice was more akin to that of some dragon in awe. He had finished wrapping up her claw and just sat before her. It all made sense. Every little coincidence in this session, from the wound treatment to the description of the healer. They had met at some point in the forest but beyond that, it was never to be remembered. But why? What happened back then? As you can tell, I have forgotten almost everything except meeting you. Was there an attack?

Mythryl felt her blood almost freeze when she let out the purr, completely unintentional. She silently snarled at herself, wishing that she could reverse time and change events. Little did she know, her heart basically matched Sly with his own heartbeat as hers hammered in her chest. What had she done? All the work that she had done previously to Sly to make him forget everything... Was it completely undone? Never in her life had she mucked up like this before, and she nervously listened as Sly had declared that she was there. But it seemed that he didn't remember everything.

Not yet.

Mythryl listened, allowing Sly to finish tending to her paw. She gingerly took it away from him, her magenta eyes looking at the paw and how it was wrapped. It was identical to when he had wrapped it the other day. For a few moments, the dragoness was grateful that she managed to take the original wrappings off before she came in. But before she could speak, Sly was able to beat her to it. Straight away, the black dragon questioned her.

Mythryl felt trapped, unable to escape from him as she raised her eyes to him, placing her paw back to the ground. Even though it flared as she put it down, she didn't show any outward sign that she had experienced a dash of pain. "Yes, you are right. I was there, Sly." Mythryl answered, turning her gaze away again as she sighed. "I wish that I was able to tell you everything Sly, but... I can't." She, in her own way, was being truthful. She couldn't answer Sly, and for some reason, daggers felt as if they stabbed her in the chest.

But why?

"I cannot tell you why you can't remember, all I can tell you is that.. I was searching for someone, but I cannot find them. They are nowhere, as if the rumors themselves were lies. But... That's a story for another day as, after this, you won't remember me. When I leave, you will forget me. All you will remember is that cursed purr. But don't be alarmed, Sly, nothing will hurt you, and if you can't remember me, that is also just as good as... As no one ever remembers me.

It's the partial curse of my existence, I mean, who would remember a tiny little creature who was unable to be born perfect." She partially shook her head, sighing. "I'm sorry you had to be hooked up with all of this. But believe me, it's for your own safety, but you have to forget me again." Mythryl partially insisted, her voice taking a tone akin to that of desperation.

Inwardly, Mythryl didn't really want to do this... Besides, if she didn't make him forget, she was trusting a complete stranger. Trusting others, as she had found out, could lead to hardships. But even then, he wasn't even the one who she was looking for, so why would she allow him to remember? Her mind was frazzled, she couldn't focus, and her mind was scattered, which caused her sentences to be skewed.

Mythryl would have to do her trick again....

He hoped for answers, but she greeted his suspicions with a cryptic one. Careful attention to what she had to say, but Mythryl ended up telling him that she could not explain the details as to what happened. Not because she forgot, but she could not. It just added more questions to why he lost his memories. She was involved, one way or another. Mythryl explained to him that she was looking for someone, but her search was in vain. It did not help him that she planned to wipe his memories again and make him forget about this interaction.

Sly was caught unprepared. Knowing himself, if he foresaw something like this would happen, he would leave a note for himself hidden somewhere to remind of this. But he had no paper, no quilt. It seemed he definitely would lose these memories. And he would never know why except it was something concerning him safety. Why? Was he in danger from something? Knowing her was dangerous? There were far too many questions. And forgetting them would not help him come any closer to solving them. Like trying to catch a shadow with bare claws.

Sly huffed a sigh, leaning back a little. At least he knew this little magic was harmless. I cannot force you, he said. But how do I know what will harm me if I have nothing to go on? He was close to asking how could he remember her if they were to meet again in the rarest of occassions. But he knew she would not answer. In any case, he was waiting for her to blast him with what ever forgetting magic she had be done with it.

This was a very interesting puzzle...

For the first time in her life, Mythryl didn't leap at the open invitation to simply make him forget here and now.

He had helped her when all else had turned their back to her or would have cast her away. Even though he couldn't remember everything, Sly was still willing to help her. Sure, she had been the one to force him to forget, but... This didn't sit right with her. Mythryl fought her own inner demons, wanting to force him to forget everything about her, the other wanting to let him remember.

It would be nice to have someone who knows you...

Mythryl shook her head slightly, she didn't want anyone else to really know her. Not unless they knew what she had gone through and exactly what she had experienced in the past. But seeming those rumours were nothing but lies and deceit as Sly had mentioned with their first meeting... Then there was no one else which would know how she felt. However, there was a seemingly bright spark in Sly's eyes. Something that made him partially intrigued. Mythryl took a step closer to Sly and would raise her injured paw to place it against his shoulder before studying the ever-smirkful dragon.

However, there was a great reluctance from Mythryl as she sighed, nodding her head slightly. "You will be safe because you won't know me." The dragoness explained quietly, a regretful sigh coming from her maw. "Please, just... Try to relax and trust me-I promise you that you won't be harmed... It's just a gap in your memory again." Mythryl said gently, surprised at the tears forming in her own eyes, "Thank you for saving my paw and thank you for showing me kindness." The randomly coloured NightWing quietly mumbled, before she went to draw him in for a kiss.

From there, Mythryl would reluctantly drive Sly under her spell once more, forcing him to forget her. Before leaving the room, she would glance back at the dazed NightWing, before uttering a few words.

"I'm sorry."