I walk toward the trunk and place a hand against the bark. It feels rough beneath my fingers, still damp from the storm. “I’ll have you know I make incredibly good decisions. They just don’t look like it.”
The bark provides easy handholds and irregular holes for my feet. A moment later I'm pulling myself onto the lowest branch. The movement feels surprisingly good.
For days every physical effort has been about survival. Running. Hiding. Fighting. Clinging to things while rivers attempt to murder me. Climbing a tree serves no purpose whatsoever, and somehow that's exactly what makes it enjoyable.
I work my way upward until I reach a broad branch fifteen feet above the ground. From there the entire island looks different. The river glitters through gaps in the foliage. Sunlight flashes across the water. Beyond the banks, the jungle is a dark mass of green and red.
"See?" I call down. "Worth it."
Vyrathion remains below with his arms folded. "You appear to have gained some elevation."
I make myself comfortable. "The appearance is correct."
"And yet you have accomplished nothing."
"Again, I feel that I must agree."
He looks up. "Then why are you smiling like a madwoman?"
The question catches me off guard. Because I am smiling. I hadn't even noticed. I settle against the trunk and think about it for a moment before answering. "I don't know. It just feels nice. So I have actually accomplished something after all. Now I will try to accomplish the impossible: to make Vyrathion the Wild smile, too.”
“Oh, I’m smiling already,” he states, despite clearly frowning. “There’s a great grin on my face, believe me. So there’s no need to try that which I suspect you’re going to.”
I peer down at him. “Vyrathion.”
“No.”
“Come up here."
He looks away. "You heard my response."
"It's fun! Look!" I dangle my legs.
"I have never heard that word used to introduce a worthwhile activity. Perhaps you are looking for a dragon called ‘the Fun’."
I tilt my head to the side. "Scared of heights?"
"Yes,” he deadpans. "I fearheights. Because my normal state is not soaring over the worlds, carried by mighty wings, drifting on the winds, surveying all below me and knowing I am above it all.”
It’s the first time I hear him being sarcastic. "Oh, come on. It’s not like flying, I know. But it’s a change. And if you come up here, maybe I’ll show you something."
“You can show it to me now, while I’m down here.”
I dangle my legs more and push my boobs together, so he sees the cleavage. “Oh no. It’s the kind of thing that can only be shown in a tree. That’s one of the rules.”
“Now you’re making up random rules.” For several moments he simply stares at the trunk. Then he stares at me. Then he looks back at the trunk.
"This proves nothing," he announces as he strides forward. “I’m simply inspecting the tree for gold.”
"Of course,” I say gravely. “I expect nothing else."
At first his climbing is oddly awkward. Not because he's weak. The opposite, if anything. He keeps treating every branch asthough it owes him money. Leaves shake. Bark cracks. One unfortunate limb snaps entirely beneath his grip.
Then he starts adapting. Within moments he discovers the rhythm of it. And then he starts moving upward alarmingly fast, using the claws on his fingers.
"Hey," I begin as he climbs past me. “I’m right here.”
"And nowIamhere,” he says as he goes on climbing. The tree shakes with his moves.
