It was nice walking in the forest, instead of fleeing.
The forest was beautiful. The old-growth trees provided shade and homes for animals. He could hear the nervous chittering as he walked by.
The forest floor was soft from the rain they had the night before. Moss grew freely over rocks and trees. Spring was making itself known. Bright little flowers popped up in patches of sun.
It was pleasant.
It was uncomfortable.
Wren's life hasn't been filled with many pleasant moments. Not since he was young.
It was difficult for him to relax. The first few times he ventured out of the witch's house to explore the woods, he stalked through. He was tense and ready to fight. He leaped from the trees and looked for any signs of danger.
He found none. Just some put-off squirrels that didn't appreciate a tense dragon on their branches.
He had spent so many years on the run, in captivity, or fighting his way out that he didn't know how to relax. There was nothing for him to do. No witches to kill. He could do what he pleased.
It was a hard change to make.
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He found the first one along the river bed. Wren was taking a break on the shore, wings spread to soak up the sun. His eyes scanned the shoreline and stopped when he saw it. An almost perfect circle of basalt.
The stone was cold and smooth as he rubbed his thumb across it. When he held it up to the sunlight, there was a green sheen to the dark black. It reminded him of his wings.
He put it in his hip pouch and felt a little lighter.
Over the next few days, the collection in his pouch grew. They were little things of no value but they meant everything to Wren. Not being able to collect was like asking a bird not to nest.
He could still remember the last time he dared to have a pouch full of treasures and the heartbreak that came when the witches laughed as they burned it.
Some dragons have a hoard of jewels and gold. Wren had a collection of rocks and feathers.
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Every day after he walked through the woods, he would empty his pouch into the top drawer of the dresser in his room.
It wasn't the safest option but the witch didn't enter his room. He was selective about the treasures that came home with him.
His favorites were a jagged little piece of quartz that glimmered pink.
He also had a piece of jasper in the rough shape of a heart. He found several feathers in perfect condition—vibrant blue from a jay and tawny brown from an owl.
In the drawer was also a small collection of bones. An opossum jaw with teeth intact. Another jaw of a deer. Pieces of antler, a couple of stray vertebrae, and a little rabbit skull.
He also had a handful of loose change he had found throughout the forest. He had no need for money but they were shiny and he found himself compulsively picking them up. His favorites were the coins whose copper had turned green.
The little piece of basalt stayed in his pocket.