The other males stay close to their mates as we travel. When we stop for the mid-day meal they gather, and I join their circle.

“We’ll need to hunt tonight,” Sverre says.

“Right,” Ladon agrees. “We’ll need more food but not a lot. We were able to bring most of what we need.”

“Sounds fine,” Padraig says, his deep voice making me want to flinch but I speak up anyway.

“I can help,” I offer.

All of the males look at me with surprise on their face. No one speaks for a long moment until Padraig starts to, but Sverre stops him with hand on his shoulder.

“It’d be best if you stay with the females,” Sverre says. “We don’t want to leave them… unprotected.”

“Oh,” I say, unable to keep the disappointment out of my voice as my shoulders slump.

“I will stay as well,” Shidan adds.

Murmurs of assent meet his words. They continue talking over their plan but I don’t bother listening anymore. Shidan is being nice but it’s clear none of them want me on the hunt. They don’t even think I can protect the females!

It’s frustrating. No matter how hard I try, I can never prove myself to the other males. My smaller size has been the curse of my life and there is nothing I can do about it. Turning away from the other males I focus on the females.

They stand in a small group, talking. Inga is on the edge of their grouping. Does she feel the same with them as I do?

My guts burn. She is my treasure, I know it, but how can I claim her? A male claims his mate by being worthy. How can I show her I am worthy when I can’t even join the hunt? If I cannot provide for her then I am not the one for her.

I am. I know I am. I feel it deep in my bones that we are meant to be together. I’m certain it’s more than physical attraction, though she is the most beautiful of all the females. No offense to the others but none of them are her.

“Stand guard while we’re gone Samil,” Padraig says, slapping a massive hand on my shoulder hard enough that my knees almost buckle.

“Of course,” I say, glaring at him.

He meets my glare with one of his own. Our stare down continues until Sverre walks up, pulling our attention away.

“Ready?” Sverre asks.

“Yes,” Padraig says, giving me another hard stare.

I smile and the anger flashes across Padraig’s face. It’s an effort of will to not laugh out loud. It’s the exact reaction I wanted.

They take off to hunt, pausing to admonish the females to stay close to the camp and not go wandering about. Shidan moves off to take a post on top of the closest dune, leaving me mostly alone with the females.

“Thanks for staying with us Samil,” Calista smiles.

“Of course,” I say, but I know she’s also being kind.

Inga watches from behind Calista and in her face I see no reproach. She’s truly kind, it emanates from her in waves that soothe the burn of being left behind.

“Play with me!” Illadon demands, stamping a foot and looking up at me.

He belches and a small burst of flame emerges from his mouth. He crosses his arms over his chest. Smiling, I kneel to be eye-level with him.

“And what would you like to play?”

“I’m a mighty hunter,” Illadon says. “A fighter! Like my dad!”

“Of course you are,” I agree. “And what do I play?”

He looks thoughtful, his brow furrows and the hatchling puts a hand on his chin. “I know!” he says excitedly. “We’ll be gladiators! Like Cenar and Todd were when Visidion and Rosalind found them. We’ve been put into the arena and we have to fight!”

“Right,” I agree. “This sounds like a fine game.”

I notice that Inga is watching and warmth floods through my limbs. This could be our child that I am playing with.

“You be…” Illadon says, trailing off as he thinks.

“I’ll be Padraig,” I suggest. “He’s a very large, powerful warrior.”

“Oh good, yes! I can beat Padraig, that will give me much honor!”

I laugh at his words and we step apart. I take on the role of Padraig, holding my arms out far from my sides and lowering my voice so that it’s deep like his. I keep my wings spread and stomp with every step to mimic the Zmaj who is among the biggest of us.

Illadon moves into a defensive stance and I storm forward, bellowing at him much the same as Padraig does so often. We play hard. Illadon doesn’t hold back even if I must to make sure I don’t hurt him. He leaps and twirls gracefully, moving and shows all the signs of a great warrior in the making.

After several minutes of mock combat he makes a flying charge at me, wrapping his short arms around my head. I intentionally fall back with his attack and land on my back, throwing sand up around us and holding him close to my chest to keep him safe. We land with him on top and I throw my arms up in surrender.

“Yay!” Illadon yells with his arms in the air while standing on my chest.

“The victor!” I yell.

Applause meets our cries. Glancing over at Jolie, Calista and most importantly Inga, they are all clapping and laughing at our antics. Illadon jumps off of me and runs over to his mom.

“I won mama, did you see! I beat Padraig,” he chatters excitedly.

Calista sweeps him into her arms, lifting him with apparent ease even though he’s almost half her size now.

“Yes you did,” she says, beaming with pride. “Very well done.”

Inga approaches as I climb to my feet. There’s a hesitancy to her movement and as she comes closer a tingling rushes through me.

“That was nice of you,” she says, not looking directly at me.

My scales itch and heat. Motioning with my hands, I try to cover how dry my mouth suddenly is, swallowing hard to try and moisten it so I can speak.

“Thank you,” I force the words out.

She smiles and my hearts skip, a pain shoots through my chest and into my groin.

“You do a good impression of Padraig,” she says, her eyes darting up to meet mine then away just as fast.

“Oh,” I say, nodding. “He’s easy. I’m Padraig, I’m big, ugh.”

I mock his voice and mimic my earlier motions to indicate his size. Inga laughs and it’s so beautiful, so musical it makes me ache for want of more.

“Do you do anyone else?” she asks, a small grin forming.

“Sure,” I say, excitement building. “Who would you like?”

She giggles and shakes her head. “Sverre?”

“Right, he’s easy. All I have to do is be very serious you see,” I say. Straightening myself and standing absolutely rigid I take on Sverre’s mannerisms. His air of absolute propriety then I mimic his voice which is a quarter of an octave deeper than my own.

“Wow!” she says, laughing again. “How did you learn to mimic people so well?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’ve always been able to do it more or less I guess. I learned when I was young if I could make people laugh then they wouldn’t beat me up. At least as often.”

“Oh, that’s sad!” she says and her hand touches my arm for the barest of instants. As it does, her eyes lock on mine, widen, and then she jerks it back quickly looking away.

The spot where she touched me has a lingering warmth that I try to hold onto, I don’t want it to go away ever. A long moment passes with each of us looking at the other. Her lips tremble and she swallows then looks away.

“Uh,” I say. Stupid. Say something funny. Something, anything.

“Yeah?” she asks, her eyes looking beside me.

My mind is blank. Nothing.

“Do you… mimic?” I ask.

I could not be more lame.

“No,” she says, shaking her head.

“Oh,” I say.

An urge to run away rushes in and mixes with the feeling that I never want to be away from her. It’s a strange war inside of myself.

“You’re different than the others,” she says.

“Yeah,” I say. I’m less than they are. I’m not a male like them. I’ve always been smaller, less able, and a screw up. Guess I was born this way.”

“I didn’t say it was bad,” she says, her eyes darting to mine then away as she picks up on the negativity in my voice.

“It’s not?” I ask.

She smiles, her eyes darting up and down. “No.”

I smile, my chest swelling with pride. She turns and walks away, heading for the other single female, Ashlee. Watching her walk away, the way her hips sway holds my attention. Could she ever be mine? Images fill my mind, the two of us holding hands, a water-ceremony for us, children running around our home, then the two of us old and bent, still holding hands as we walk.

Fire burns in my core so hot I’m certain it’s going to burst out in a roaring inferno. Crossing my arms, I turn and walk the sands, watching for any signs of trouble. If I’m going to be a worthy male, it’s time to start.