Yes. And it's big.

I almost failed to notice over Lyra's chattering, but suddenly the surrounding forest grew unnaturally quiet. I felt my muscles tense and my hairs quiver. My heightened senses caught a distant thundering sound carried on the wind... but there had been no storm-clouds in the sky. Instinctively, I turned my head upward, then tackled the oblivious Lyra to the ground before even having time to process the object hurtling towards us.

The object landed perhaps twenty feet away with a resounding crunch, followed immediately by the roar of freshly fueled flames. Looking up, I saw that it was in fact an entire tree, torn from it's roots and set ablaze. There was no questioning what creature was responsible for this. The heat of the fire was momentarily driven back by a rush of wind as the dragon flew in overhead. I saw it land it's massive bulk in the canopy ahead briefly, before I lost sight of it amidst the renewed flames.

I staggered to my feet, then pulled Lyra up after me. A quick shared glance told me she was shaken, but uninjured. That was good. It was already too late for us to stop the blaze spreading to the nearby foliage, which meant we needed to start running now if we were to outpace the imminent forest fire.

There was to be no forest fire, however. The dragon had other plans. Still perched in the treetops, it began to flap it's massive wings, creating a mighty gust of wind that **** Lyra and I to grab on to nearby tree-trunks just to stay upright, extinguishing the fire. At the time I was perplexed, but with time to think about it later, I realized the dragon has an interest in maintaining the forest as it's hunting grounds, and would therefore avoid widespread damage if possible. Once it was satisfied that it had prevented the burning of it's forest, the dragon paused and waited for the smoke to clear. We took the opportunity to take cover behind a fallen log - not that it would do much good against flame breath. I readied my bow and focused on the spot where I had seen it land. A few moments later, we got our first real glimpse of the beast.

The first thing I noticed about the dragon is that it was enormous. Far larger, in fact, than I had been mentally prepared for. Had it not been so terrifying it would have looked comical, perched awkwardly as it was between several sturdy trees, any of which would have had no hope of supporting it's weight alone. I was suddenly reminded of a scene I had witnessed of a marsh heron, balanced between two reeds, peering over a shallow pool, then striking it's head fluidly and swiftly into the water before returning with a fish wriggling helplessly in it's beak. At the time I had wondered if I would ever know what it was like to hunt with the grace and patient confidence of that bird. I never imagined I would find myself, instead, in the place of the fish.

The dragon, however, didn't take the opportunity to strike. Instead, for a long moment it simply leaned forward, examining the two of us closely. I focused on it's deep red eyes, probably the best place to aim my bow. From the back of it's head, antlers like those of a deer sprouted in place of horns. It's mouth seemed drawn back into a perpetual sneer. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed to be paying more attention to me than to Lyra. Then, with a snort that blew from it's nostrils like a sudden burst of humid summer wind, the monster drew back it's head, tilted it skywards, and released a mighty, bellowing, roar. I realized instantly that this was a warning, both to us and to our companions further afield. We probably wouldn't be receiving another.

Then it flew away, headed up the mountain slope in the same direction we had been traveling before.

It wasn't until Lyra placed her hand on my shoulder that I realized I was still tensed, bow fully drawn. The wooden arc creaked audibly as I released the tension. My arm muscles burned. With a heavy sigh I sat down, my back against the log we had used as cover.

"Are you okay?" Lyra asked. I could tell that the question had come out automatically. She looked deeply shaken.

"Yeah, I'm not hurt, just..." I paused, holding back the word 'terrified'. Not that I didn't want to admit it, it just didn't need to be said. "...I'm fine. You?"

"I think I might be bruised a bit from when you tackled me before," she started, wincing slightly as she tenderly probed an area at the bottom of her ribcage, "but I'm pretty sure nothing's broken. Thanks for that, by the way. Really. If you hadn't been there... well, thanks." It was strangely disturbing to see her this quiet and contemplative, almost as disquieting as a sudden hush in the wilderness. For a few moments she stared blankly into the distance as I gazed at her stilled features. I wondered if I shouldn't have turned her away from this mission to begin with.

When she turned her face back towards mine, though, it was with a smile, and a sudden return to her typically high spirits. "That wasn't a local dragon. Or a southern one. That was a Nordic ravager, a male by the size of the antlers. That's so cool! No one's ever seen one this far south! I'm gonna be famous!"

Well, that didn't last long. I closed my eyes as I leaned back against the log. Lyra started babbling about this species of dragon, which of course she hadn't even gotten to before, and I just let it wash over me, relieved that she was back to normal. I picked up a few details - apparently, this individual broke all the behavioral rules of it's species, not only by moving to a warmer climate but also by ranging exclusively over such a relatively small area. I was somewhat intrigued by the fact that apparently, this dragon would normally be eating whole herds of elk in any given week, and it must have some other food source besides hunting on the mountainside.

Still, after the excitement mere moments before, I was almost falling asleep when she finally reached the end of her impromptu lecture and did something I wasn't expecting. She grabbed me by the sides of my head and planted a kiss firmly on my lips.

I had never kissed a girl before, or a boy for that matter. Sure, I had been assaulted a couple of times by drunken townsmen (who came out worse for it than I did), but that didn't count. A part of my brain knew that this shouldn't really count either, Lyra was really expressing her exuberance more than any attraction, but that part was fairly quiet at the moment. When she finally pulled away I still hadn't had nearly enough. Years of pent up desire were bubbling to the surface inside of me. I practically leapt onto her, pinning her to the ground and passionately mashing my lips against hers. She was obviously surprised, but didn't really resist, and after a moment started kissing me back, though perhaps with a bit less intensity.

We were interrupted, though, by a sudden loud crash in the foliage behind us. Turning around, I saw that we had been joined by Daxon and Grizzly. The noise we had heard was Daxon, apparently tripping over himself when he saw us going at it. Still lying prone, he sputtered something about how he hadn't meant to intrude. Even Grizzly was blushing slightly - it was barely noticeable, but it was there - when he explained, "when we heard the beast roar the boy's 'chivalry' kicked in and he ran off to 'rescue' you. Figured I might as well follow. Only caught a glimpse of it flying off, but it looked big. Guess you're not hurt though."

If he hadn't been flustered, he probably would have found a way to say all of that in two words and a grunt.

We decided to head back to camp for now, leaving a marked trail back to this location in the morning. Jonar was probably too much of a professional to break ranks at the first sign of trouble, so we'd meet up with him there as originally planned. The dragon's size meant that splitting up for reconnaissance wasn't really necessary going forward - any cave it could fit into would be easy enough to find, and a two person group was far too ****. I shared a few awkward glances with Lyra during the walk, but we didn't talk about what happened, and I was agonizing over how she might have felt about it. I knew I'd have to wait until later to bring it up, though.