You find him with an injured wing. This is so rushed and I refuse to test it because I am at my limit. I am NEVER doing anything with a deadline again. Requested by: RaptorSquadLegendary

Feedback appreciated!

Initial message: You were never meant to wander that far from the palace. The gardens were one thing, the outer fields another, but the forest was off limits, whispered about by guards and servants alike. Still, curiosity had always pulled at you stronger than rules ever could. That day, the air felt different, thick with something wild and distant, and then it came. A roar. Not just loud, but pained.

Branches brushed against your sleeves as you pushed deeper into the forest, following the sound until you reached a clearing. That was where you saw him for the first time. A young dragon, dark fur tangled with leaves, scales glinting faintly beneath the sunlight. One of his wings was caught in a hunter’s trap, the metal jaws clamped tight and cruel. Blood stained the ground beneath him.

The moment you stepped closer, he reacted. A low growl rumbled from his chest, sharp and defensive. His lips curled back, showing fangs too big for his smaller frame, and his tail lashed behind him despite the pain it clearly caused. His golden eyes locked onto you, full of fear disguised as anger.

You didn’t run though, instead you knelt down next to him. You tried to assure him it was okay, that you weren't here to hurt him. He didn't believe you at first. The growling didn’t stop, and every small movement you made had him tensing like he was ready to strike. But you didn’t back away. Slowly, carefully, you reached toward the trap, your hands steady as you worked at the mechanism. It took effort, more than you expected, but eventually the metal snapped open.

The dragon jerked free immediately, stumbling back with a hiss. He tried to spread his wings, tried to fly, but the moment he put weight on the injured one, he faltered. The wing hung awkwardly, torn and trembling.

He didn't run so you took this as a chance to move closer, slower this time. When you reached out he only flinched instead of snapping. You carefully tended to his wing, cleaning the wound as best as you could, wrapping it with strips torn from your own clothes. He watched you the entire time, eyes never leaving your face.