A young man crouched at the base of a waterfall, throwing sopping locks of sandy hair out of his eyes.  He hadn't even touched the water, but he was soaked by the misty spray the falls emitted.  He supposed the near constant dampness was what made the mushrooms grow so well here; they were all over the rotting willow he found toppled half in the river.  Behind him, a sweeping view of forest and valley went completely ignored, and the stunning display of rainbows in the mist was lost on the boy.  His focus was intent on the portion of mushroom he'd collected.  His brow furrowed as he tried to recall everything from his studies and tried to discern whether this was indeed the fungus he sought, or its all-too-similar but very poisonous cousin.  An earthquake couldn't have swayed his concentration.  Though he was no genius by any testimony, he tried hard.
He tried so hard he failed to take any note whatsoever of a great crash in the forest a hundred yards from him: the crunching of of underbrush and a heavy impact upon the soft earth.
 At last satisfied he was gathering poisonous mushrooms, the youth stuffed the bag he'd brought with as much of the fungus as would fit, tugged the draw-strings tight, and tied them around his belt.  He turned to leave, but froze the moment his eyes fell upon a massive black shape along the riverside.  His heart lurched, his mouth worked like a beached fish's, and before he could consciously worry that much noise or movement might attract its attention, his body rebelled and he dove for cover in a panic.  From behind the fallen trunk he'd just been collecting mushrooms from, he gathered his wits and peered out from the crook of a gnarled branch.
Though difficult to make out through the mist, it looked to be nothing less than a dragon.  With a sleek frame and positively massive bat-like wings, it was a fearsome silhouette.  The dragon - if dragon it truly was - seemed to be doing nothing more than taking a long drink from the river.  The beast was huge, its back standing as high as the young man's own headIn length, its body was nearly easily three times that - easily five times if the tail and neck were included.
 While the young man couldn't tear his eyes from the figure through the mist, he desperately hoped it would leave.  Soon.  It was growing increasingly hard to breathe: his instincts screamed at him not to make even the sound of a breath, while his heart raced and his lungs burned, and he had to concentrate just to fight for a balance between silence and blacking out.
A thought clawed at the back of his mind; there shouldn't be any dragons here.  They'd all been wiped out, at least from this region, and the rest ought to know better than to pass by.  Not four miles away, down in the vale, lived one of the most exonerated dragonslayers in any of the surrounding kingdoms.
And by a marvelous stroke of irony, the boy quavering behind the rotting log was the only son of that dragonslayer.
The dragon lifted its head from the river, and the youth nearly jumped in fright at the sudden motion.  When the beast's head slowly reeled toward his hiding place, however, he froze with chills down his spine what felt like ice in stomach.
 "Well, what's this?"
The dragon spoke!  No other thought could race through the boy's mind before, a tremendous catlike pounce later, two sets of pale claws flashed through his vision.  His eyes followed them down.  The dragon's foreclaws had crushed the rotting wood of the trunk; a plethora of termites teemed in every conceivable direction, disgruntled at the disruption of their home.
Then he looked up to face the black scales of the dragon, settled like a housecoat  with a dying mouse between its paws.  Not really aware of the thought slipping from his lips, he muttered, "I am so dead."
The dragon scoffed, hot breath washing over the boy and sending steamy billows into the moist fog.  "Oh don't wet yourself."
Jaws snapped forward, and the young man shut his eyes, bracing himself for the end.  Instead he was jerked up by the front of his shirt and swung like a half-empty handbag, and his back hit the before he knew it.  It wasn't too rough a landing.  Unable to resist cracking one confused eye, he found he'd been carried out of the spray of the waterfall and deposited about ten feet from the riverbank.
 The beast's tail swung overhead, and he caught a glimpse of the wicked train of bony spines it sported.  Lifting his head a little, he found the dragon pacing in a circle around him.  He could now clearly discern the rest of the dragon's jagged features: the spines all the way up its back and neck, the pale horns curved forward like a ram's, every wicked claw.  A predatory grin of dagger-like teeth dominated its maw, above this visage were its eyes, gold like a wolf's, slitted like a cat's.  Its scales - though black - glistening pearlescent with the falls' spray, seeming to shift and shimmer like running oil as droplets beaded and formed runnels from the edge of one scale to the next.  Much heavier scutes armored its lower legs, though despite the natural armor it still moved with an almost unearthly grace.
As it completed a circuit around the young man, the dragon spoke.  "Scrawny thing, aren't you?"
"Not worth eating?"  He tried not to sound too hopeful.
"Always with that myth, you humans.  Ever the spur driving your kind to hunt us, I shouldn't wonder.  Tell me, whelpling, what you are called."
 "M-My name is Alaus."  His heart raced and he feared he was going to pass out, but he clung to some small hope that, since the dragon acted somewhat personably, it might let him go.  "And... w-what is your name?"
Again, the dragon scoffed.  "Whelps don't get to refer to their elders by their names."
"I'm not a whelp!"  Alaus protested.  "Can I get up now?"
"Can I get up now?"  The dragon cooed a remarkable impression of his tone.  "Just like a whelp to ask.  Neither knowing your place, nor forging your own.  Tch.  You're young, small, and certainly act like a whelp.  Close enough by my standards."
Alaus chafed.  "Fine then."  He sat up, and tried to hold the dragon's gaze.  He thought the beast looked amused.  "Can I..."  The words trailed off; he didn't want to fall into the same trap twice.  Amending his words, the cleared his throat and tried again.  "I need to leave now."
To his shock, and relief of course, the dragon quit pacing around and stepped over toward the river.  With a toss of its head Alaus interpreted as a shrug, it dropped itself on the banks by the deceptively clam-looking water.
 Just as he pushed himself to his feet, the dragon sighed, "Ah well.  I hope the next soul to wander this way turns out to be as interesting as you."
Uncertain he'd heard right, Alaus blinked.  "Interesting?"
"Here I thought you had to leave with some urgency?'
"Well, maybe I don't right away.  What do you mean 'interesting'?"
As soon as he said it, Alaus detected a fire returning to the dragon's eye, and he knew he'd been played, convinced to stay.
"I wonder, first," the dragon queried, "why you are carrying fungus."
A simple enough question.  "I'm the healer's apprentice in my village.  They're medicinal."
"I suppose that explains why you're so far form the village."
"It's only a few miles..."  Alaus blinked.  "Wait, you know where the village is?"
The dragon cocked its head.  "Shouldn't I?  This is my home."
"You do know there's a..."  Biting his tongue, Alaus pondered the wisdom of what he was about to say.  But, apparently the dragon had nothing against him and didn't want to eat him, and Alaus was grateful for that.  "There's a dragonslayer in that town."
 "Jonnor of Larkhall?"
"You know his name?  And you're still here?"
With a rumble of amusement deep in its throat, the dragon, grinned.  "Why, I am the only dragon in the whole of this vale he did not kill."
"But he never lost a battle!"  Alaus caught himself blurting before thinking.  Quickly, he decided it would be prudent not to let this dragon know Jonnor was his father.
"No battle he didn't come back and finish, anyway."  The dragon swished its tail dismissively.  "I said nothing to the contrary.  The fact remans, he did not kill me.  With auspicious, living, breathing evidence.  Fire-breathing, in fact."
Well, there was no denying that.  "I guess.  But, you said I was 'interesting' and...  I doubt you'd find the fact I have a bag of mushrooms that interesting.  So what else was there?"
"Have you ever met another dragon?"
Alaus shook his head.
"Well then, who are you," he accused, "to say the curiosity of dragonkind is not greatly piqued by what becomes of the local fungi?"  The dragon bared teeth in a grin that was all jest, betraying his serious tone.
 "Right.  Funny.  You only asked one question, and it wasn't that 'interesting' an answer."
"Oh?"  A single digit raised from its front foreclaw.  "But everything you say and do tells me volumes about you.  Perhaps I have found my answers there, whelpling."
"Will you quit calling me that already!"  Alaus shut his eyes, suddenly aware that he'd just shouted at a dragon.  With a deep breath, he coaxed himself to unclenched his fists.  The beasts's chortling didn't help.  He forced himself to look upon the beast, ready to meet its gaze with what he hoped was composure.
The dragon glanced away, sniffing at the air.  Its eyes sharpened on some point in the space ahead, then softened as they turned back upon Alaus.  "Very well, let us reason.  I am unfamiliar with human age as such - are you considered of age?"
"I am," Alaus confirmed, highly uncertain where the dragon was taking this."
"Do you have a mate?"
"A m- w-what?"
"Oh dear," the dragon sighed, "If you don't even know, i'm afraid there's no doubt you are indeed a whelp."  It sounded almost wistful.  "Unless the human vocabulary for sexual partners has significantly changed in the past...  two decades?"
 "No, I know what a mate is."  Alaus shook his head.  "But no, I'm not married or anything."
"I am not speaking of your human rituals and taboos, whelp."
"Still, no.  I've never...  done that.  Why under the sun you would ask..."
"If you'll be still a moment," the dragon interrupted, "I can tell you why.  A dragon is considered an adult beyond all doubt once they have claimed their first mate."  Its gaze lifted to just above Alaus' head.  "...Or have been claimed, for that matter.  In any case, a whelp is what you are, like it as not.  Unless you'd rather be a morsel?"
Alaus hoped very hard that was a joke, and turned on the spot, making up his mind: it was high time to leave.
"One moment, if you please."
Alaus snapped over his shoulder, "What?"
"Do you see that ridge, there?"  The dragon pointed with a claw at a spot on the ragged cliff face a ways from the waterfall.
Acquiescing - and promising himself he'd leave immediately afterward - he looked.  "I believe so."  He had to strain his eyes.  "I think."
 "There's an old trail that leads up there.  Shouldn't be hard to find.  Along the way is the entrance to a cave..."
"And I should care... why?"
"Again, I would explain if you'd permit."  The dragon huffed.  "See, that's where I live.  And what you so impatiently interrupted was an invitation to visit me, should you find yourself out here with time permitting."
Alaus stared.  "Invitation?"
The dragon tossed his head.  "You see?  What is so malicious about a simple invitation?  We needn't speak of or do anything you don't care to...  Though the fact remains you are a whelpling."  The grin returned.
Though his first thought was to ask 'Why would I want to?' what he finally asked was, "Why would you want to?"
"I?"  The dragon pushed himself to his feet, staring at the river.  "Why would I, now?  In all the vale, I am the only dragon, much thanks to Jonnor of Larkhall.  The skies are mine and I have flown them in solitude for decades.  Why should I seek the company of humans?  For the simple pleasure of interacting with a breathing, reasoning being?  Why indeed?  Think, if you please.  It would be so much easier for us both, oh my interesting whelp."
 With a dip of its head, the dragon's maw descended to the river.  Alaus watched several huge gulps travel up its lengthy neck.  The beast's wings unfurled, and with a leap, it took to the sky.  Buffeted by the wind stirred by the mighty wings, Alaus stared after the nameless dragon open-mouthed.
For a minute watching the dragon ascend, circle, and bank behind the mountain.  Finally he shut his mouth and tried to swallow.  Coughing, he spit out the dust kicked up by the takeoff.  He gathered his bearings, ensured his bag of mushrooms was still accounted for, and started in the direction of home.  Casting a glance back at the ridge where the dragon lived, however, he knew he'd be back.  He might not like being called a whelp, but what was the harm in simple conversation?  Maybe he could even learn something about his own father.
His father.  Another thought pierced him: should he tell father he'd encountered this dragon?
With a glance back, he decided he would not.  'Should' was another question entirely.
 
* * * * *
Alaus did indeed find himself returning to the falls.
He'd been berated by Vilda, the healer, for rolling in the mud and traipsing through a thicket - for he had been dropped on his back in the dirt while wet, and the holes in his shirt left by the dragon's teeth did rather resemble the affects of a thorn bush.
Later that night, he managed to convince himself that he would not return to visit the dragon.  That resolve waned over the next four days, when absolutely nothing about his apprenticeship seemed quite as interesting, quite as important as it used to.  The fact remained: meeting the dragon again was a prospect wrought with unknowns, but probably not any real danger, and that was an intoxicating allure for a young man attempting to content himself with a simple lot in life.
Finally came a day where his duties were few, so by midday, he'd finished them all and had reached the river.  From there, it was a simple matter of following it upstream to the falls, and from there, to hunt for the path to the dragon's abode.
 What looked to be a run of the mill game trail proved to be taking him in the right direction.  It was easier to find than he'd wagered on, but it took far longer than he anticipated to wind back and forth up the steep side of the mountain.  He guessed the trail was mainly used by mountain goats.  If it had ever led anywhere humanity had left a footprint - a town, a fort, a watchtower, even a hermit's hovel - it was long out of use.  But it got him to the yawning mouth of a cave, the only recess he'd found remotely big enough to grant passage to a dragon.
Alaus wondered whether he should find something to knock on first but, recalling what happened the first time he'd tried to ask the dragon's permission for anything, put on an air of boldness and marched straight in.
It was not a cave of the earthy variety.  Carved from the rock itself, perhaps by a stream forgotten ages past, and it seemed natural enough.  Like asymmetric architecture lining a grand entry hall, stalactites hung down from the ceiling and stalagmites thrust up from the floor.  Some were as tiny as daggers, while other protrusions reached toward their counterparts to conjoin into a single pillar.  
 Beyond the 'entry hall' was a broader chamber, roughly circular.  In the center of the barren, gloomy space, illuminated by a shaft of afternoon light from the entrance, lay the unmistakable form of the dragon.  He was curled in a ball, his sides rising and falling with even breaths.
Alaus wondered if he were sleeping, until the dragon spoke.
"So, the whelpling returns," he rumbled.
"You invited me."
"That I did."
The dragon uncoiled, rising to his feet and arching his back in a luxurious stretch.
"I was expecting something..."  Alaus shrugged at the surroundings.  "Grander?  A little less like a common animal's hole in the ground."
"And you would have me build a fortress?"  The dragon laughed.  "Weave a rug?  Pillage fineries and sleep on immense piles of gold?"  He settled back on his haunches as he went on.  "Ah, but human legends must frame us in the grandeur we act, not to mention provide enticement and reward for their heros of myth dedicated to fighting us.  Yes, the reality of dragonslayers is a grim business, and very nearly without reward.  Unless one is as greatly famed as Jonnor of Larkhall."
 Alaus shied from the subject, hoping not to show any sign of his relation to the esteemed dragonslayer.  "I can't imagine how it must have been for you.  So alone for twenty years."
"I'll brook no pity from you.  A decade isn't that great a span to a dragon.  Mayhaps it equates to a month?"
"I can hardly imagine being alone for a whole week."
"Perhaps.  Regardless, the worst of it isn't being alone in and of itself.  I slept for great spans of time.  Hibernation, it's called, if my memory remains accurate.  Then I hunt, restore my strength, and sleep again."
Alaus pondered this, and wondered briefly if he might be able to find a decent place to sit somewhere in the cave.  It was all stone, and nothing appealed; it seemed a horribly cold and uncomfortable place to relax.
"Of course," the dragon carried on, "hobbies tend to go ignored, the events of humankind slip by without our knowledge, and certain needs tend to pile up over the years.  You know what I mean, yes?"
"I don't suppose we could go somewhere more comfortable?"  Alaus asked.
 "Comfortable?"  The dragon blinked, "Are you suggesting something?"
"What are you...?"  Alaus began before he realized what his question sounded like in conjunction with the previous statement.
"No, of course you weren't."  The golden eyes rolled.  "Human taboos, more than likely.  A great prejudice against me, is there not?"  He seemed to find the notion funny.
"Wait, you are... male, right?"  Alaus wondered uncertainly.
"I am."
And yet the dragon seemed not put off in the slightest.  Alaus caught himself wondering - initially with the same manner of professional curiosity he approached his study of herbal reagents - about the dragon's anatomy.  He tried to quash the notion the moment it struck him he was considering the most private organs and instincts of a fellow sentient being.  His face felt hot.  Pierced by the dragon's eyes, he felt sure the subject of his curiosity knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Tell me, whelp, what do you know of how dragonslayers operate in a major campaign?  How they would approach combatting a region under regular oppression from a high population of dragons, such as this very vale some thirty years prior?  I am correct in assuming this was before your time, I think."
 "Yeah," Alaus swallowed.  Mercifully, he was robbed of unwanted interest by the sudden shift in subject.  "I mean, yes, I'm not that old.  But no, I don't know anything about how the dragonslayers work.  I mean, there haven't been any dragoons in the valley since."
"They hunt down the females first.  They tend to be fewer, but are the primary source of strife with humans: they must feed often when laden with eggs, and they haven't the luxury of hunting far and wide to keep up their strength.  You see the appeal human settlements present, yes?"
Alaus nodded grimly.  Wherever humans went, there were sure to be plentiful livestock.  Most men would flee from the shadow of such a creature, and all but the bravest would be running in blind chaos by the time a few buildings were set ablaze; child's play to a dragon, surely.
"Our own mating season, then, was the precursor to..."
"Dragon raiding season."  Alaus finished.
"Indeed.  Being the most active raiders, as you put it, the females also became the simplest to track.  And, so laden, the easiest to kill."
 It made sense, in a methodical, cold-blooded way.  And Alaus wasn't sure what to make of it anymore.  Of course he wasn't keen on the thought of people being terrorized so, but neither did he like the notion of preying on soon-to-be mothers.  He couldn't help but wonder how much of this his own father had taken part in.
Without warning, the dragon rose, moving to the entrance of the cave.  Alaus had to jog to keep up.
The dragon tucked in his wings, not to scrape them on the stalactites as he passed.  "In any case, the sudden lack of females tends to loosen many dragons' ties to the region," he continued.  "Many leave.  If a substantial population remains, or the remainder cause trouble or seek vengeance on mankind, a more thorough and drawn-out extermination ensues.  Look."  He stopped at the mouth of the cave, and indicated the valley beyond with a sweep of a lifted claw.  "What happened here thirty-odd years past was something of a rarity in history.  Though the females were slain, our numbers were still great.  We darkened the skies with our number and sought vengeance.  It was then the dragonslayers poured in; previously it had been only an ordinary event.  But as 'dragon raiding season' came to a close elsewhere, this valley became the grounds of a war.  Dragon and man hunted, and were hunted in turn.  It took no less than six years."
 "I heard the whole forest burned to the ground."
"Hardly," the dragon laughed.  "The elder trees have weathered worse forest fires.  Whether begun by a strike of lightning or a dragon's flame, what difference does it make?  From time to time, the earth burns, and it is all the greener for it.  Something you humans never quite accepted."
"Well, we don't generally like our homes to burn... they don't grow back."
"Oh, but they do!  Why, every year more spring up around your village, which was a meager hamlet at the end of the war."
Alaus noted that grin of daggerish teeth again.  He couldn't quite shake the feeling it was not at his joke, but at something that hadn't been spoken.  "So, where are you taking this?"
"There is a glade not far from here."
"I meant the conversation."
"Oh, conversation is a fickle thing, as is its wont.  Perhaps you prefer to revisit the falls?  After all it is you, little whelp, who take issue with my home."
"Oh, no, it's very...  fitting.  For you.  Matches your scales."
 "Glad you agree."  He glared at the great blue expanse above the valley.  "It's all much too open for my liking."
"And here I thought dragons ruled the sky."
"I am a dragon whose skies are not his own.  Decide: falls or glade?  Else we stay here."
"Falls," Alaus muttered, preferring the familiar scenery.
"Actually, you should see this glade.  Come."
Biting back a sour retort, Alaus followed the dragon, wondering at the dragon's unpredictable self and his strange, cryptic, offhand statements.  A dragon whose skies were not his own?  Did he mean Jonnor might hunt him down if he saw the dragon flying in the area?
The walk was not long, once they'd descended from the mountainside trail.  It seemed longer than it was to Alaus, who found himself mesmerized by the dragon's movements.  He thought if he could fill a bowl to the brim with water, and balance it upon the dragon's back, it would not spill even as he snaked between the trees.  Large as he was, he moved like a specter.  His claws dissected any foliage he would otherwise have to force himself through, and from time to time he went out of his way to crumple a thorn bush into matchsticks.  Though, beginning to recognize that mainly happened when the dragon got a ways ahead of him, Alaus suspected it was a pastime for his benefit to ease his own pace.
 "So what's special about this glade?"  He voiced as impatience first stirred.
"Well, here it is," the dragon announced, ignoring the question.
A rough half-circle of mossy, cracked, jagged stone rimmed a shallow depression in the forest floor.  The space was more than comfortably wide for the dragon's size, and Alaus immediately saw why he 'had' to see this clearing: mushrooms grew everywhere.  Flat ones as big as his hands, puffy-looking ones as high as his shin; they were everywhere.  "Very funny."
"On the contrary."  The dragon nosed an unassuming brown cap.  "This here?  This particular strain of fungus is one of the most poisonous substances known.  Men oft dub it 'heirsbane', and with good reason.  Its extract is odorless, tasteless, and can be distilled into a powder so fine it dissolves instantly.  It is incredibly potent.  Why, just this very morsel would likely kill even myself."
The dragon's tongue encircled the mushroom's stem.  It snapped, and the dragon's jaws eased together over the deadly cap.
 "Wait, what do you think you're doing!"  Alaus gasped.
The mushroom dropping from the draconic snout as the glade echoed peals of laughter.  Dumbfounded, Alaus watched the dragon flop to his side, roaring in revelry.  "Oh, the look on your face, whelp!"
Annoyed at how easily he'd been played, Alaus took a resigned seat on a convenient rock - well away from any of the allegedly deadly caps.  After a minute, the dragon's mirth waned to a final chuckle, and Alaus he questioned, "Is it even poisonous really?"
"Yes.  Just as I said."  With a lazy flick of a claw, producing a thwap, he shot the mushroom in question clear through a bush on the far side of the clearing.  An affronted squirrel dashed out of the line of fire.  "All true.  Ironically, its spores are quite refreshing - they are minute in size, are not at all harmful, yet their slight acidity destroys many an allergen common to humans.  I would recommend spending a visit here, when next you find yourself congested."
"Acidity, allergens?"  Alaus shook his head in disbelief.  "I came out here to get away from my studies, and here I am, a dragon lecturing me on natural remedies."
 "The human tradition of apprenticeship is a voluntary one, is it not?  That is, you chose to study under this healer."
"Aye."
"Then on some level, you must enjoy the workings of the natural world you find in your studies?"
Alaus nodded.
"You see, whelp," the dragon crooned.  "You have a perfectly good reasoning mind.  You should apply it more broadly."
Responding to the underhanded compliment with a dull lower, Alaus shook his head.  This dragon never ceased to surprise him.  "And you think I should do that... how?"
"Anything you might wonder.  Say, what dragons might have done with pent needs and all the regional females slain."
"Haven't you harped on that subject enough?"
"Ah yes, the whelp's prejudice.  Forgive me if it's on my mind after a few decades of forced abstinence."  He didn't sound the least bit sorry.  "And you must understand the mind of a dragon.  He is mighty in spirit: when he wants, he takes.  And mighty in body: when contested, he fights.  He has proven himself when he has all that he desires.  We haven't human gossip and politicking to concern ourselves with.  And the trials of existence are few... unless you would like to discuss the irksome tendency of deer to migrate further from my roost just as their young grow plump and flavorful?"
 "Not really."  Alaus winced, not needing the mental image he gained of the dragon tearing into a young doe.
"Then if the subject is broached, is it because dragonkind has not buried it so deeply beneath sedimented idiom that the mere discussion becomes unspeakable."  The dragon shook his head.  "It is a natural process, as surely as breeding the animals you domesticate.  I will never understand mankind's reluctance to speak of it."
"Still, I don't see the benefit of speaking of what some needy dragons may have done to humans."  Unless this dragon was one of those; Alaus hoped he wasn't going to regret those words.
The dragon was silent.  No jest, no protest.  When Alaus looked, he met the appraising golden eyes.
"Interesting to note," the dragon said in a tone not unlike his description of the heirsbane mushroom, "your mind finds it easier to breech the barrier of species before crossing the line of gender."
And there was an image Alaus couldn't grasp.  Two male dragons?  It seemed impractical; he couldn't wrap his head around it.  Not that he was sure he wanted to.  "But... you're not, you know, made for each other."
 The dragon's low rumble of amusement nearly sounded like a purr.  "Oh, there are ways.  There are several ways, whelpling."
Alaus wondered suddenly if this was what it was like to have an older brother: to be incessantly teased, played the fool, and called by demeaning  nicknames as younger siblings in his village often griped about.  Yet, if half the eldest brothers like that in his village were anything like this dragon, maybe the lot of them weren't as totally inconsiderate as Alaus always thought.  After all, the unnamed dragon seemed at least somewhat good-natured.
Maybe.  He enjoyed company, at least, and had even offered suggestion Alaus might well take up on the next allergy season.  And likely dirty talk came with the territory of plenty of elder brothers as well.
"Deep in thought, are we?"
The dragon's words shook him from the reverie.  "Well I still can't imagine how, unless you dragons have something we don't."
"I don't believe I do.  Well, aside from the blatantly obvious appendages."  He shrugged his wings and flicked his tail in demonstration.
 Alaus stood at a crossroads.  He shouldn't, but he wanted.  The prospect of pursuing such a deviant discussion made his whole life pale, drab and boring.  He'd never looked twice at another man.  No, he was quite sure that was not his bent.  But the dragon?  Savage and regal, extraordinary power in a body of uncanny grace.  In appearance, terror and beauty twined in their most primal forms.  Such a creature seemed above such a petty restriction of gender.  He'd said it himself; a dragon seized what he wanted.  And despite himself, Alaus wanted to know - and see - much more.  How could he not?  What he would normally call his better judgement, he stuffed to the back of his mind and spoke truly before he could rethink his decision.  "I'm curious.  I want to know."
"Oh?  You surprise me."  That grin again.  "Tell me, how do you prefer to learn?  By hearing...  observing...  or doing?"
He flushed, knowing what the dragon meant by the second and third options. "I...  Not 'doing'.  I mean, I'm not a dragon..."
 "Never you mind that.  I wonder just how much of your inhibitions you're willing to abandon."
"I don't know..."  Alaus glanced at one of the heirsbane mushrooms, beginning to have those second thoughts he thought he'd done away with.
The dragon's head raised high in a serious air.  "I'll do nothing you don't wish...  or won't like.  All your curiosity..."  His tone became sultry.  "And no other human need ever know.  First and foremost, disrobe."
Alaus gawked.
"Oh, come now.  It is only fair if I should bare myself fully to you."  He tossed his head.  "It is my only price.  A deal heavily in your favor, I should think."
"I-I never said I wanted to see your..."  Alaus began, stammering.
"Your eyes say you do."  The dragon chuckled.  "Sate all your curiosities and, by sundown, I may even have to stop calling you 'whelp'."
Knowing the dragon had already won the argument, Alaus ceded all points with a nod and decided to get his part over with.  He got to his feet, undid his belt with unfeeling fingers, and dropped his trousers to the soft earth.  He realized, in his haste to be done with the hard part, he'd forgotten his shoes.  He fumbled around the fabric about his legs to remove his shoes.  Finally, he dropped his shirt atop these.  There he stood in full nude before a dragon, of all things; consciousness of the brazen eyes upon him ensured he was undeniably erect by this point.  Alaus' own gaze remained on a tuft of grass beside his pile of clothes, and he shifted from foot to foot.
 He heard the dragon muse, "My, your face is as red as the wildflowers we passed on our way here."
"Didn't notice them.  Was a bit busy staring at... you."
"Touching.  But surely you'd enjoy watching this more?"
Telling himself there was no reason not to look, for he'd done as much for the dragon and it was only fair, Alaus managed to watch.  He had difficulty meeting the dragon's gaze.  Alaus' attention drifted to the side, down the length of the dragon's sinuous side, to where he lifted his hind leg, to the fine scales between.  A vertical slit of engorged, reddened flesh was exposed, and from this protruded the very tip of what was unmistakably the dragon's phallus - the barely visible organ such a deep red it was nearly violet.
The dragon's foreclaw - the side he wasn't laying on - snaked toward his nethers.  "I should hope you are familiar with the most basic pleasuring?"  He didn't wait for a reply.  Mindful of his claws, his digits raked the inside of his raised haunch.  With a dissatisfied grunt, however, the dragon craned his neck to peer behind him.  Shifting a bit closer to a row of rocks, he rested his hoisted hind foot on one.
 While the dragon situated himself, Alaus seized the opportunity to seat himself cross-legged on a mossy patch.
Now the foreclaw massaged the dragon's underbelly, and though he never touched his member, it had advanced a few inches.  "The most basic pleasure of course may be pursued like this..."  His foreclaw mimed stroking the erection that had not yet grown to where his digits were wrapped.  "Or some prefer the tips of their wings.  Though demonstrating that would block your view, I think."  He chuckled.
And despite himself, so did Alaus.  It was easier than he thought, to sit, listen, watch...  much easier, and the only point of growing discomfort was his own unattended manhood.
"Some breeds of dragon, too, have sufficient dexterity in their tails, as such..."  His tail flexed, curled inward.  The tip wrapped around what little dragonhood was visible, spines outward and carefully away from the sensitive flesh.  It lurched outward another inch within its spiny prison, and the dragon made a minute noise of approval.  The dragon leaned in, neck bowing so his head was barely an inch from his own cock.  "And some enjoy the feel of... a tongue... or entire mouth..."
 Alaus stared.  A dragon actually putting his mouth on his penis?  At first glance he thought it was disgusting, but maybe it was just strange.  And he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like, watching the dragon's tongue drawl out of his mouth - long, glistened with wetness, tapered to a long, fine tip.  And as the dragon demonstrated, every inch of it was incredibly prehensile.
Withdrawing the muscle, the dragon continued, "And in the absence of females, some dragons find pleasuring one another preferable to doing so alone."
"And are you one of them?"  Alaus asked with a sheepish grin.
The dragon murred deep in his throat.  "Perhaps.  Depends."  He lay back once more, allowed his caressing foreclaw to flop to the side, and arched his back partly off the ground.  His tail flexed around his erection.  As much as it grew, the spiraled tail teasingly hid all but the very tip.  "For now... it has been far too long since I have been satisfied."  His head lay back on the grass, staring upside-down at Alaus.  "Perhaps we should amend our deal?"
 With his limbs splayed and the orientation of his grin, the dragon looked funny.  The businesslike tone the dragon adopted, while looking so ridiculous, brough Alaus a laugh.  "How do you mean?"
The dragon's foreclaw shot out almost before he finished asking.  Alaus yelped, his body lifted by the dragon's digits under his arms.  He groped for the nearest claws to support himself, for all he could see under his dangling feet was teeth.  Parting teeth; he couldn't muster the breath to cry out.
The teeth moved, and he was lowered to be more or less level with the nearest golden eye.  "Oh relax, whelp.  Why would I eat you now, of all times?"
Apprehension remained, and Alaus still found no words.  His fingers gripped the dragon's first and last claws until they were white.  Again the dragon parted his jaws, and his tongue lolled from his scaly lips.  Tongue curling, his snout drew up to Alaus' belly and gave his captive a long, slow lick over his entire groin.  The captive human gasped and trembled with shock.  The foreign tongue and its rough - but not unpleasant - texture surrounded his manhood and caressed it.  He felt every inch of the muscle the dragon could spread from his mouth - including the incredibly soft, wet underside.  
 The dragon pulled his tongue back slowly, trawling it over every inch of the human member before it slipped off the head.  Again he lashed out, this time encircling the sensitive scrotum, caressing the sack and its pair of tender occupants.  A third time he licked, clear up the center of the Alaus' fully stiffened maleness.  It with drew, and the dragon savored the flavor with a rumble from deep in his chest.
The next he was aware, Alaus' feet hit the ground, and his knees buckled as he was released.  He rolled onto his back in the grass, still overcome by the incredible sensations like nothing he'd ever dreamed.  
"Consider that an advance," the dragon chuckled.  "I am proposing a simple exchange...  Pleasure me, and I will return the favor."
"I dunno if I can do the mouth thing," Alaus noted blearily - he wasn't sure he could stomach it mentally, nor if it was physically doable.
"No matter," cooed the dragon.
In a small part of himself, Alaus realized he'd been played and coerced, but he had to admit he was enjoying this.  He wetted his lips, trying to wrap his head around the idea of pleasuring the dragon.  He rolled his head and met the dragon's eyes.  He found unbridled lust - and though it concerned him, it also enticed him.  He licked his lips again and knew he would do it...  For more of that tongue, he'd do everything he could.  The pushed aside the last shreds of doubt as he stood and advanced to the dragon's spread hind legs.
 Though still bound up in tail, the full length of the dragonhood was greater even than Alaus' forearm and hand put together.  The dragon leaned around him; hot breath blew on his bare back.  "Go on," the dragon whispered, teeth not an inch from his ear.  "Get comfortable, then you may unwrap my pride."
Flushed with anxiety, Alaus straddled the dragon's tail just behind his haunches so he could reach.  The scales were smoother than he'd expected, and so long as he was careful not to scrape his ankle on the ridge of spines on the dragon's back, he thought he would be comfortable and have all the access he needed to his target.  Leaning into the dragon's nethers so his head was about level with the tip of the dragon penis, he had a good vantage point, and with his shoulder's weight against the raised leg - which the dragon didn't seem to mind - he had both his hands to work with.  Cautiously, he touched the inch-wide tip protruding from the column of tail coils and rubbed it.  It was hot and smooth to the touch.  Emboldened, he slid his fingers beneath the tip of the wound tail.  Finding no resistance, he began to unravel it to reveal the needful shaft.  Not to leave the cock itself unattended, though, he cupped his other hand around the tip.  The dragon's snout nudged his shoulder, breathing down his bare chest.
 With five inches unwrapped, there simply was no discernible head to the dragon's member.  It was smoother than silk, yet firm beneath pressure.  Despite the narrow tip, the shaft gradually thickened the more he unwound each length of tail.  The eighth inch he laid eyes upon was as thick as his wrist - and there was much more to go - but it also sported an alien feature: a ridge along the underside.  It was firmer still than the rest of the dragon cock, and from the ragged breath and shudder rubbing beneath it produced, it was also more sensitive.  Taking a moment to explore the feature, Alaus traced the flare.  He was getting down to the thicker tail coils, and if he was going to take his time, he would have to stall between them.
Ten inches.  Another ridge was visible, and he could make out another just where the tail encircled next.  Alaus was sure to drag the coil across the third as he removed it, and the dragon's breathing accelerated.
Almost twelve inches, another ridge.  There were only a couple, thick rings of tail remaining, and the next exposed the sixth and final ridge, and it widened sharply below that.  Rather than pull off the rest of the tail, Alaus' hand slipped between it and the base of the penis, gripping gently to judge its girth.  It was as big around as both his fists, at least, and sported long, vertical bulge up the front.  He massaged this with his thumb; it felt almost spongy.  It throbbed, and Alaus's attention was drawn to the massive gout of pre emerging from the tip between the fingers of his other hand.  He was thumbing the dragon's urethra.
 Remembering how good the wetness of the dragon's tongue had felt, Alaus took the next spurts of pre to slick the length of the draconic member, but there was a lot to cover.  Attempting to coax out more, he worked the base, and was pleased with the results: the dragon's breath caught and quickened.  His tail slid away, and his snout drifted languidly away from Alaus' shoulder, but the golden eyes remained locked on the hands earnestly working his shaft.  Alaus even ventured his fingers down into the dragon's vent, and found that to be sensitive as well.
Though he doubted his ministrations could feel as good as the dragon's tongue had on himself, Alaus guessed he was doing fairly well.  He slipped his fingers over the dragonhood's slitted tip, ran them down with attention to each ridge, and plunged his thumbs into the vent at the other end.  He rolled his palms around the base, stroked his fingers across the ridges, and twisted his hands around the tip.  Copious pre enhanced his every touch.  Heavy breathing told of the dragon's pleasure under Alaus' willing hands.  His head ducked down once more to lick the human from the shoulder to the back of his neck; Alaus shivered at the touch.
 Alaus thought of another tactic, and tried it at once.  He stroked along every ridge at once, three fingers from each hand.  The dragon seized up, member throbbing beneath Alaus' touch.  Pleased, he kneaded the ridges harder, drawing a grunt from the dragon.  His seat bucking, Alaus was thrown forward against the dragonhood he pleasured.  Cock thrust between scales and skin, the dragon howled and came.  Seed was smothered between them, the first bout flooding slick, white stuff over the dragon's underbelly and human's chest.  Alaus picked himself up in time for the second spurt to jet as fas as the dragon's chest.  Automatically, he grabbed and pumped zealously at the pulsing member.  The third ejaculation flung a sticky rope onto the dragon's neck.  Several more spurts followed, dwindling in force yet barely waning in volume until the very last throb, when the cock tip gaped but produced only a paltry trickle.  Barely a scale of the dragon's belly had escaped the slew of dragon seed, and rivulets of the fluid advanced advanced down his side each time his chest heaved in a gasp.
 Alaus grinned at the dragon's final sigh of sated relief.  "How was that?"
Rumbling, pleased, the dragon parted his teeth and his promising tongue flicked out.  "Beholden to my word, I shall show you," he hummed.  He sat up, bending forward toward the human on his hips.  His seed ran freely down across his inner haunches.  His slipped across Alaus' chest, collecting his own excretions into his mouth with several thorough slurps.  Alaus opted not to ask what was coming, but he noted the dragon never swallowed.  The dragon's tongue snaked out, dripping with his own seed, and enveloped the human's own neglected manhood.
Alaus shivered with the pleasure he expected, but was thoroughly unprepared for the feel of Rahamuth's muzzle in his groin, the heat of his mouth, nor the drizzle of draconic fluids dripping down his sack.  He shuddered at the thought of sharp teeth, but he felt only warmth, wetness, the brush of scaly lips, and the caress of a skillful tongue as his member was nursed in the dragon's mouth.  There were so many textures: the ridges of the roof of the dragon's snout, the rough and smooth sides of the tongue, as the swishing lather of thick seed.  Just as he gasped, sure he was on the edge, everything stopped.
 Alaus didn't want the pleasure to end, but he knew that finishing here and now would bring it to the softest end possible, so he let the dragon wait.  All he felt besides hot breath brushing his stomach was the dripping fluids on his penis - combined saliva and cum.  It was a little disgusting if Alaus thought about it, so he didn't.  When his breathing returned to normal, the dragon resumed licking, encircling, and stroking with his tongue.  He even curled up his tail to support Alaus' back.
Whether he endured five or fifteen minutes of this, he wasn't sure.  He closed his eyes and lost himself in bliss.  Panting softly, he occasionally gave an involuntary thrust into the dragon's snout, which was met with amused rumbles.  His was almost the opposite of the dragon's loud and vocal climax: after an initial gasp, Alaus rode through his orgasm holding his breath - not to mention gripping the dragon's horns.  Relieved at last, he came to his senses panting as he lay back against the supporting tail.
But the tail eased away, withdrawing, replaced with soft grass.  Alaus lifted his head, but was thoroughly unprepared for what he saw.
Tail was positioned over a ring of flesh where Alaus had sat just a moment ago, the dragon hung his mouth over his own cock, the unswallowed mess clearly visible dripping and oozing between his teeth and down his tongue as he teased his own member's tip.  Seeing he was being watched, he plunged his tail into his anal passage and tongue slid over...  no, into his cock, the narrow muscle working down the urethral slit.  He pummeled his forbidden entrance with his own lashing tail, and as his mouth descended over his dragonhood even as it bulged with the intruding tongue.  Dumbstruck, the human could only watch the dragon violated himself, the dragon performing more sexual acts upon himself than Alaus had even heard of.
With a guttural grunt, the dragon's tongue slipped free of the confines of his mating tool just as he came yet again. It wasn't as impressive as the earlier ejaculations, but four more jets coated half his snout.  And his eyes, once his tongue had cleared his lids of the white goop, burned into Alaus.  Though he said nothing as he lay himself down, Alaus suspected he'd just gotten off his second orgasm with thoughts of him, of putting on a show for the human before him...  probably picturing Alaus doing more than just masturbating him.
 A hush stretched on, with only the deep breaths of the two to fill the open air.  Only now did Alaus begin to notice the dragon's seed had an extremely pungent scent - it wasn't horrible, but it wasn't something he wanted to wear all day.  "What say... we visit the... falls now?  Wash up... and all that?"  He managed between breaths.
"Go if you will, and don't forget your clothing.  This is where we part for the today, whelp."
"'Whelp' still?"  Alaus groaned.
"Yes, whelp.  Our deed was hardly mating.  Though, it was pleasant...  Perhaps in the future, no?"  The dragon chuckled.  "Oh, but I suppose you deserve something for your troubles.  My name... is Rahamuth."
"Rahamuth," echoed Alaus.  "A pleasure, sir."  He laughed at his own pun - dull though it was.
The dragon rolled further onto his back, his spines tearing into the sod.  "This is a pleasant place to lay."
"Aye."
"But 'tis nearly sundown."
"What!?"  Alaus sat bolt upright.
"Yes, you'd best be on your way," Rahamuth mused.
Alaus barely him, gathered his clothes.
 "I do hope you'll return some day or another...  Alaus, son of Jonnor, the last slayer to hail from Larkhall."
Dropping his jaw - and his shoes - Alaus gaped.  "You knew!"
"Of course I knew."  The dragon laughed.  "I always knew; I could smell it, slayer's child.  Why do you worry?  You are not beholden to the sins of your father.  I can see past that...  which is more than I can say for dragonslayers who take up their banner in a time of peace - not for an ideal, but simply because of what some of dragonkind has done."
"My father's not like that!"  Alaus snapped, but didn't realize until afterward his voice had raised.
"I never said otherwise."  Rahamuth hummed.  "Be on your way, now.  Do clean yourself well before you return home.  I'm sure neither of us would appreciate your father, of all persons, to learn of this."
Sated and stunned, it was all Alaus could do to recall which way the falls were and start walking.