“They- they’re not ready!” Newt protested trying to keep up with the reserve director’s long strides. “They still don’t quite trust us enough and they’re liable to lash out if they’re not used to the conditions-”
“They seem to trust you enough.” Shevchenko replied brusquely. “Yesterday you had them eating out of your hand.”
“Well, ye- I mean, sort of, not literally- I suppose… But still-” Shevchenko stopped and turned to face the stammering wizard.
“Look, Scamander,” His craggy face seemed to soften slightly, but his eyes remained as piercing as ever. “You’re my best dragon trainer. Normally I would listen to what you have to say, but we are losing the war, losing good wizards out there every day. Your brother is out there on the front lines. Don’t you want to see him home safe?”
“Y-yes of course, but-”
“No more on this topic, Scamander.” Shevchenko said with a tone of finality that brooked no argument. “We need those dragons. We ride out tomorrow.”
Newt couldn’t help but feel, with a sinking heart, that this was a bad idea.
The next day, Newt knew for certain that this was a bad idea.
“No! No, don’t hurt her!” He shouted, trying to be heard over the combined clamour of wizards shouting, spells being fired, and the distressed roar of a young dragon. Ana had already been unsettled at the loud noises and bright lights, but when her handler had taken her into too sharp and too sudden a turn, it had sent her into a panic.
She had thrown her equally as terrified rider off her back and begun to rampage, crushing both enemy and allied forces, long forks of flame warning off any who might approach. Her rider had been saved by a timely cushioning charm, but calming a distraught dragon was not quite that easy.
Newt ran towards the dragon and cupped his hands to his mouth, letting out a loud roar and dodging enemy fire. Unfortunately, this meant that he wasn’t concentrating on dodging dragon fire. Newt dove out of the way, but the jet of flames caught his right leg. He let out a strangled yell and quickly doused his leg with cold water. He limped behind the shelter of a large boulder before repeating the roar, this time followed by three chirps.
Ana’s roars died away, but her tail continued to anxiously lash from side to side.
“There we go, Ana.” Newt said, cautiously making his way toward the jittery dragon. “I’m so sorry, I forgot you liked the chirping.” A particularly loud explosion startled both of them and the dragon recoiled, heat building in her throat.
“Hey, Ana, come on,” Newt interrupted, bringing her attention back to him. “Just look at me.” He held the red gaze for a moment, before carefully and purposefully blinking twice. Ana stared at him for several moments longer, before repeating the gesture. Newt’s face broke into a relieved smile and reached out to stroke her snout.
“Scamander! Get that dragon over here! We need help!” Shevchenko’s bellow rose above the din. Newt’s face fell but he continued to pat Ana’s head while scratching a particularly sensitive spot under her neck.
“I’m so sorry,” Newt whispered in her ear, his voice choked. “I’m going to have to ask you to go back out there.” Ana whined and nudged Newt with her nose. “I know, and I’m really very sorry, but I have no choice. We’re losing out there. Please, Ana, just for a little while.” Her ears twitched nervously but eventually she lowered herself to the ground for him to mount. Newt felt no relief or satisfaction. He took a fortifying breath before swinging his left leg over and ignoring his right shrieking in pain. “Just a little longer and then we can go home.”
Later, after settling the dragons back in their enclosure and giving them a good feed, Newt staggered back to his little hut in the reserve, avoiding his bruised and battered colleagues who were tending to their wounded and celebrating their victory. Burning pain raked up and down his leg and he collapsed against his workbench, hastily reaching for his rapidly emptying jar of burn salve. Newt bit his lip as he methodically slathered his trembling leg with the thick orange paste. With a muttered ferula, bandages flew out of the tip of his wand and wrapped his leg.
Newt let out a relieved breath and wobbled to his bed, immediately sinking down onto it. He ignored the pang of longing for his brother to tuck him in and stroke his hair like he did when they were younger, and allowed himself to fall into a restless sleep.
Fill: 5 times Newt had to patch himself up, and 1 time there were humans to help him 3/6
“They- they’re not ready!” Newt protested trying to keep up with the reserve director’s long strides. “They still don’t quite trust us enough and they’re liable to lash out if they’re not used to the conditions-”
“They seem to trust you enough.” Shevchenko replied brusquely. “Yesterday you had them eating out of your hand.”
“Well, ye- I mean, sort of, not literally- I suppose… But still-” Shevchenko stopped and turned to face the stammering wizard.
“Look, Scamander,” His craggy face seemed to soften slightly, but his eyes remained as piercing as ever. “You’re my best dragon trainer. Normally I would listen to what you have to say, but we are losing the war, losing good wizards out there every day. Your brother is out there on the front lines. Don’t you want to see him home safe?”
“Y-yes of course, but-”
“No more on this topic, Scamander.” Shevchenko said with a tone of finality that brooked no argument. “We need those dragons. We ride out tomorrow.”
Newt couldn’t help but feel, with a sinking heart, that this was a bad idea.
The next day, Newt knew for certain that this was a bad idea.
“No! No, don’t hurt her!” He shouted, trying to be heard over the combined clamour of wizards shouting, spells being fired, and the distressed roar of a young dragon. Ana had already been unsettled at the loud noises and bright lights, but when her handler had taken her into too sharp and too sudden a turn, it had sent her into a panic.
She had thrown her equally as terrified rider off her back and begun to rampage, crushing both enemy and allied forces, long forks of flame warning off any who might approach. Her rider had been saved by a timely cushioning charm, but calming a distraught dragon was not quite that easy.
Newt ran towards the dragon and cupped his hands to his mouth, letting out a loud roar and dodging enemy fire. Unfortunately, this meant that he wasn’t concentrating on dodging dragon fire. Newt dove out of the way, but the jet of flames caught his right leg. He let out a strangled yell and quickly doused his leg with cold water. He limped behind the shelter of a large boulder before repeating the roar, this time followed by three chirps.
Ana’s roars died away, but her tail continued to anxiously lash from side to side.
“There we go, Ana.” Newt said, cautiously making his way toward the jittery dragon. “I’m so sorry, I forgot you liked the chirping.” A particularly loud explosion startled both of them and the dragon recoiled, heat building in her throat.
“Hey, Ana, come on,” Newt interrupted, bringing her attention back to him. “Just look at me.” He held the red gaze for a moment, before carefully and purposefully blinking twice. Ana stared at him for several moments longer, before repeating the gesture. Newt’s face broke into a relieved smile and reached out to stroke her snout.
“Scamander! Get that dragon over here! We need help!” Shevchenko’s bellow rose above the din. Newt’s face fell but he continued to pat Ana’s head while scratching a particularly sensitive spot under her neck.
“I’m so sorry,” Newt whispered in her ear, his voice choked. “I’m going to have to ask you to go back out there.” Ana whined and nudged Newt with her nose. “I know, and I’m really very sorry, but I have no choice. We’re losing out there. Please, Ana, just for a little while.” Her ears twitched nervously but eventually she lowered herself to the ground for him to mount. Newt felt no relief or satisfaction. He took a fortifying breath before swinging his left leg over and ignoring his right shrieking in pain. “Just a little longer and then we can go home.”
Later, after settling the dragons back in their enclosure and giving them a good feed, Newt staggered back to his little hut in the reserve, avoiding his bruised and battered colleagues who were tending to their wounded and celebrating their victory. Burning pain raked up and down his leg and he collapsed against his workbench, hastily reaching for his rapidly emptying jar of burn salve. Newt bit his lip as he methodically slathered his trembling leg with the thick orange paste. With a muttered ferula, bandages flew out of the tip of his wand and wrapped his leg.
Newt let out a relieved breath and wobbled to his bed, immediately sinking down onto it. He ignored the pang of longing for his brother to tuck him in and stroke his hair like he did when they were younger, and allowed himself to fall into a restless sleep.