[Gift] FOTN | Kindness

A dark shape slithered under the ice, a shadow approaching a ship. Had anyone seen her, they might have been alarmed, but as it was, they had too many other things to worry about.

First, they had sailed too far north, into waters that were far too cold already, at the wrong time of year.

Second, the ice had begun to form its winter shape, thick and heavy almost overnight. Some of the men came out with picks and hammers, but the progress they made was miniscule, and they were forced to start over, every day anew as the packed ice reformed when they made to sleep.

Third, this was going to be a hard winter, biting, bitter. The ship and most of its men might survive until spring, but the ice might not begin to break until it was nearer to summer. And there was every chance that it might not break at all, if the weather was harsh, if the ice dug deeper than where the ship floated and might slowly encroach until it spidered up the sides of it, consumed it whole.

This, she would not allow. Not when she could use her large form to arch against the weak points made by the diggers, when she could use the suckers on her tail to pull the broken ice beneath its fellows, buoyancy pushing up, creating further cracks, greater lesions across the unforgiving landscape.

She heard the clamor aboard the ship — excitement about a sudden miracle, a rush to gather the captain and crew to take advantage of this mysterious boon.

When they decided to turn their ship south with the space she gave them, the ink-black dragon pushed against its side, helped it turn around the weight of its anchor as she used her tail to push the ice away

When they raised the anchor, she went ahead of them, broke through the ice and parted the way for their leaving.

When they made it out of the thick, packed ice, she poked her head out of the water, red eyes meeting the gaze of a sailor hanging off the back, nearly sick with relief. He stared at her in a mix of awe and terror, and she stared back, slowly curled her tail out of the water, and gave him a simple wave.

When he would write his account of that night’s events, he would scribble incomprehensible, dark shapes, and they would think him mad, but he would never forget the kind creature that saved them all.