Tura strolled through the castle hallways. If it could truly be called strolling. The dragonling darted from shadow to shadow. His head moved on a swivel, literally turning all the way around. There was a deep fear radiating from his eyes. Yet, a feeling of pride floated below Tura's sternum. The first outing without his sister felt like a success. He wasn't anywhere near his eventual goal. Tura had seen males walking about without fear. They'd fought with females verbally. He'd even seen some in physical altercations versus females. The physical world happened to be mind-boggling. There wasn't a male in the energy plane that would dare raise their voice at a female. Let alone ever strike a female. This plane invigorated the dragonling. Tura hoped he could eventually shed his lifelong beaten in habit of fear of female. This would only be the first step.
A female appeared in a doorway. She was laughing about something, facing the other way. The dragonling froze for a moment. A brief debate spun through his mind. He could reform into a female. Potentially, it would give him the confidence to walk past this female. However, it would defeat the whole purpose of this outing. He wasn't ready to face a female directly though. Tura slipped behind a nearby statue. The female turned away from the door. She continued laughing as she passed the statue. Tura held his breath until the female disappeared around the corner. The female was none the wiser. The dragonling let out a long sigh. Time to move again.
There was another purpose for this outing. Tura wanted to learn how to cook. Also, eat an entire feast. Not necessarily in that order. Food came from heaven. The dragonling had a deep desire to learn how to create this heavenly essence. The castle had an amazing feast hall and kitchen. Unfortunately, the head cook was female. Tura figured it wouldn't be too hard to learn to cook. The meat was placed in the oven. Ingredients were thrown in a bowl to be mixed together. Not hard to figure out. As Tura strolled down the hall, his approximation of a stomach rumbled. Eating first then.
Tura ascertained that the feast hall was empty. Then he raided the food stores. Several already prepared meals were laid out upon the tables. The dragonling licked his lips as he stared down at the impromptu feast. Where to start? There were so many dishes. Tura sat down. He looked at his clothing. Eating got messy for mortals, didn't it? He liked these 'threads' as the natives said. Tura removed his jacket. The white wife-beater came off next. Tura's bare muscular chest didn't show a hint of hair. He found that kind of physical display to be garish. Time to dig in. Tura reached for the food. Where could he even start?
WC: 477
A female appeared in a doorway. She was laughing about something, facing the other way. The dragonling froze for a moment. A brief debate spun through his mind. He could reform into a female. Potentially, it would give him the confidence to walk past this female. However, it would defeat the whole purpose of this outing. He wasn't ready to face a female directly though. Tura slipped behind a nearby statue. The female turned away from the door. She continued laughing as she passed the statue. Tura held his breath until the female disappeared around the corner. The female was none the wiser. The dragonling let out a long sigh. Time to move again.
There was another purpose for this outing. Tura wanted to learn how to cook. Also, eat an entire feast. Not necessarily in that order. Food came from heaven. The dragonling had a deep desire to learn how to create this heavenly essence. The castle had an amazing feast hall and kitchen. Unfortunately, the head cook was female. Tura figured it wouldn't be too hard to learn to cook. The meat was placed in the oven. Ingredients were thrown in a bowl to be mixed together. Not hard to figure out. As Tura strolled down the hall, his approximation of a stomach rumbled. Eating first then.
Tura ascertained that the feast hall was empty. Then he raided the food stores. Several already prepared meals were laid out upon the tables. The dragonling licked his lips as he stared down at the impromptu feast. Where to start? There were so many dishes. Tura sat down. He looked at his clothing. Eating got messy for mortals, didn't it? He liked these 'threads' as the natives said. Tura removed his jacket. The white wife-beater came off next. Tura's bare muscular chest didn't show a hint of hair. He found that kind of physical display to be garish. Time to dig in. Tura reached for the food. Where could he even start?
WC: 477