I snapped that helmet right back on my head, yelled 'Fus!' at the thing above, and then after, ran down Cloud District's steps like an evil-harassed citizen. It's rather sad I had to decline myself to that status, sniff sniff.

But what does one do when a big ol' dragon is swooping overhead, and one is waking up to see it?

I ran in what almost seemed slow motion as the dragon swooped over us for what seemed 30 seconds it was so huge. I ducked beneath the stone arch separating the Cloud District from the other side of town Nahzeem seemed to not want to boast about, even when I've seen him on that particular side every stinking day and rarely on the Cloud District side, and - what am I talking about, there's a dragon, here!

I clutched my heart, pushing away heart attack as the dragon had somehow been fighting someone in front of me near the arch, and I'd just seen it doing so, as if it weren't just in the air.

I put my back against the wall's edge instead of crouching under the arch in full view of the dragon. Its fiery breath was making me sweat: I could just imagine what it was doing to the poor man it attacked. The burns filled my irises, the blood did, the yells and cries from around me making it all more real in my head (because of course I couldn't see the burns and blood though: I just saw fire, no Ed Sheeran here, though. Just fire and man).

The ear-scraping schrreeech almost made me buckle with...I don't know. The ground had also shaken beneath me, so maybe I had the urge to because - it flapped its large green, I think, wings above us and flew, and I looked around, in confoundment more than wonder since it was so fast I couldn't keep track of it. But it was my close-relation Whiterun City it was attacking, so it wasn't a completely glorious event. I was rather annoyed, but one can't look in the face of a dragon annoyed, only with either fear or the determination to put it down.

I ducked beneath the arch again to try and see it, then from under it, and decided from all the failed attempts of vision to stop being a wuss - again. I'd experienced burns. But this was unnerving, raging inside about the situation but not being able to do anything about it for being struck frozen in fear.

I couldn't see it flying above us very well with this arch in my way. I had to get a better, clearer view. It was nowhere to be seen (my previous statement about it flapping its wings above us was true, however I couldn't see where it was, but the sound is unmistakeable), even though archers met my point of sight when I emerged, people who were trying to unmistakably put theirs on the dragon. If that was me, I'd get ridiculed by the whole group. I dreaded that my bad archery skill was the turning point of me being very helpful in dragon-battle or not - but the Whiterun guards were out here owning it, too. And I could help - I mean, everyone was doing a little part, right?

I yawned - surprised me too - at the dragon flapping its wide, spiked wings at the guards as if it were mad on its period. I was, too, but that didn't mean I had the right to go about messing with human beings. Wait, why in the world was I thinking like this - wait, I guess this thinking was worthwhile. I got a frost stick and an electricity stick from Embershard. I could use it on this freakster, I finally decided.

I pointed it up in the direction of the monster and was pretty unsure of the actual use of this thing. I'd never weilded a Frost Staff before. Or any staff. I wasn't the mage type, if you noticed. But the frost spurt upward and I hope it hit, because I felt some gnarly sensations, holding it up and feeling like a boss. That dragon flew above me confidently as if it wasn't getting a scratch, and then threw up some fire near me. Fur (fire) ball.

I slid aside from those flames just in time, however a fire-covered dweeb bumped into me at that moment, not even caring about his own burns, and administered his fire to me as if it were some aid I was needing. I patted it off my fur clothing, since they had caught on slight fire, beneath, and I was happy that I didn't have to strip of my armor, yet unspiritedly stepped into yet another fiery situation - a section of floor on fire. Then, finally away from all the distractions, I and the dragon were in a death battle, zooming in on the other from far away.

It had landed, dramatically flapping its wings down and blasting a cold gust of air at us all in the Cloud District. I wiped my brow. "Thanks, thing, but you're still dead."

I used my Whirlwind - which was also a great shout to use to cool my adrenaline-rid body off - and nearly glided into its open jaws. It smashed its teeth down anticlimactically as I nearly rolled onto the floor laughing. It grunted, displeased, and received a hack to the side of its maw as I stepped out of the way, letting a Whiterun guard handle that. I was faster in my armor than I thought - kudos, me...

The dragon made AUGUGRRGHH, and-such-estranged-noises as the Whiterun guard blazed at it - sword in hand - with some sort of anger. I slipped out my Whiterun axe and kissed its muck-blade, then walked towards the center of the dragon's belly. Better to end this.

To land is the worst thing a dragon can do - it had so much advantage in the air, I didn't know why it wanted to land down here, unless it was injured. My staff had nearly ran out of energy, and so I had to use my axe, which had frost power dragons were susceptible to. I chopped and chopped until its soul was overtaking me. Only then did I finally put down my axe, breathing heavily.

It felt good this time, like I was a soul gem, saved from being empty. It must've sucked feeling the inverse of all this, though, like the dragon was. I wiped my brow, eyeing a certain iron maiden coming near. Well, it was just Lydia. I huffed, feeling sad for the absence of an Uthgerd's assurance of my glory, as Lydia put a hand on my shoulder - but I noticed soon it was because she, too, was out of breath, and not for any salutation measures. "I'm still here."

"Wouldn't have been sad if you left - I mean, let's pick up these bones -"

"I hear ya."

"What part of that?"

"Everything," she said as she bent down to collect the spoil - and I was bending downwards, too, when Ysvolda began, "...and you just absorbed its soul." Maybe she'd been talking before. And I just didn't hear her.

I glanced at the citizen as I placed the shiny scale in my bag. "Yeah. I am the Dragonborn. So that's kinda how it goes." I held a hand out, and Lydia stopped and looked up to me mid-bend.

"Lydia, get the scales first. Then we can see if we can carry the bones." We were already close to being overburdened. Well, I was close. She already was, and just filled up some more of my bags with them, since she couldn't carry anymore. I guessed that she would fill up first since I normally tended to her as my packrat; however, I myself was also prone to having space left over simply because of that purpose...I guess it could go both ways, but I didn't mind carrying the extra load.

The scales were sharp, hard to find, and so the deal was already pretty tedious and dangerous, along with the fact that we had killed a dragon, but the nice breeze that filtered through the trees now helped me, and the light rays sprinkling onto our bad fight-jobs, our broken skin and maybe else-broken elements, gave as much happiness to me as much as the scales were able to sparkle and give off a noteworthy light on the ground.

Its carcass was still here (we didn't feel like taking the scales off it because that would be more tedious, and tedious just picked them off the ground) and hopefully it'd stay so we could make profit off its lingering body - but I wonder how long that would last in a city that could benefit from it.

Her muscles shifted with her movements and the armor wasn't spare enough for me to really see all of it, but in essence it gave off the aura that her body was strong, flexing muscles I could only imagine from her armor but could at least see completely in her biceps and triceps. In a few minutes with both our muscle, we had enough for the road, at least for just the marketplace here, a.k.a. the heart of the city, if not elsewhere in Skyrim for us to sell.

She could be my steward, I thought as I gripped my bag handles to myself. The bones would fetch a great half a thousand gold if I didn't get shirked again. The scales...250. I could get a house very soon. Very for her to be steward over.

But it wasn't the only great thing about my life right now. I mean, I had Lydia, an excellent warrior, and I had a traveler's lifestyle, and a companion I couldn't have had weeks earlier - for that matter, really any companion. I had some many things to be grateful for, even after the lots of miscarriages that my life has been through. I could been a Stormcloak soldier that was dead in Sovngarde...but wait, that's for the Nords...and I could've been with Uthgerd, kicking it still, but I wasn't pouting. In fact this was the best time I could be at the moment.

I chanced a glance at the Companions to see if they noticed my worthiness. "By the Gods," I heard about me, however they only sat poised on the Jorrvaskr steps with worried faces, making me squint. What was so bad about me killing a dragon?

Shout out Rawr I'm a dragon to @Goddessgirl and @Beeper1947 :) Cute shout-out isn't it :D. They are both some nice authors and readers that make my day when they read my stuff, as all of you do, and have immensely supported my stuff (unknowingly) along the way in increasing measures of good feelings to me. Or maybe they actually did know it. O.O 

Thanks for reading and Ciao!