Rylan sat in the dark cave for a long time, Jolt sleeping happily under his cloak. He didn't know why he felt so compelled to care for Jolt, but he did. All he knew was that this little dragon meant more to him than anything in his life had. But there was a problem. He couldn't take him back to his house, but he also couldn't leave him alone in the cave. Wild dragons and boars would see him as an easy snack. 

Finally coming to a desicion, Rylan pulled off his furry vest and laid it on the floor. Easing Jolt out from under his cloak, he wrapped him in the vest and crept out of the cave. Though he had squeaked slightly when Rylan moved him, Jolt continued to sleep soundly under the vest, the small lump rising and falling steadily. 

Rylan started to pile rocks over the cave mouth, both to make sure Jolt didn't wander off, and to ward away hungry animals. He left enough space between the rocks for Jolt to breathe, double checked the area for predators, then started running back toward the village. 

A nosy town person may have noticed him leave, and he didn't want any questions to come his way. The wind slowly built back up as the trees thinned, stinging his face and hands. 

As he reached the town square, the wind heightened to a blast so powerful, it nearly knocked him flat. The ground was slippery, and the wind was at his back, forcing him forward. Struggling not to fall over, Rylan directed himself home. 

Finally staggering up the front step, he lurched inside and slammed the door, cutting off the furious winds. The dark, creaking interior of his house was not inviting. His father still slumbered noisily, allowing Rylan to creep up to his room and collapse. 

Even aside from the battling gales, Rylan felt exhausted form the emotional upheavals he had felt that day. Sorrow had turned to excitement, then curdled into fear. Yet he also felt a small, warm bubble of safety. He had a dragon who trusted him, liked him for who he was. Being able to care for the Pyron made his terrible guilt lessen. And who knew? With a dragon, maybe he could leave Outcast island and start a new life somewhere. 

But for now, his only goal was to make sure Jolt was safe and undiscovered.

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The next morning, Rylan was up at the crack of dawn again, out running drills. Grenel lined up the group and gave them a rigorous shouting about going soft, and what a miserable bunch of vikings they all were, and so on and so forth. Finally he turned them loose for some weapon practice. Rylan preferred to use an axe when fighting, though many of his group usually used heavy swords and studded clubs. Even the weakest of them could be competition in battle.

Rylan narrowed his eyes on the battered wooden target, drew his arm back, and chucked his double bladed axe. It whirled through the air and struck the target, not quite in the middle, but close enough. He retreived it and threw a couple more times. Finally, he could consistently hit the center of the target. 

On his right, Protia and Kyla were dueling fiercely, both fighting with swords. Protia was large and strong, but Kyla was quick, managing to land a few solid blows. 

Throg wasn't much of a fighter, but he had good aim with a crossbow, and was showing off for Grenel, rolling around to different positions to fire at targets. He hit about three quarters of them in the middle, and only completely missed once. 

Though Grenel would never admit that any of them were good, his general lack of criticism indicated that they were doing better than he'd like. Rylan mostly practiced his aim throwing, but when challenged to a fight with Freil, he accepted. 

Freil was smaller than most vikings, but he was well muscled, and a very capable sword fighter. Though Rylan was hesitant to call him a friend, the two of them had spent a lot of time together, and were on fairly good terms. At least better than with any of the others. 

They went at each other for a few minutes, using different blocking and fighting techniques. Though Rylan was exerting his body fully, his mind kept drifting off to the cave where Jolt was hidden. What-ifs kept circling his mind, making his stomach clench in worry. Finally, his lack of concentration allowed Freil to best him, sword point to throat.

After about two hours, Grenel adjourned the training for the day. Rylan was pleased. Generally daily training lasted from one to six hours a day. This was shorter than usual. 

Stretching his exerted muscles, Rylan started home. He had a meeting with Jolt, and he couldn't wait.

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Rylan reached the cave where he had hidden Jolt, his pockets stuffed with dried meat and small fish. Carefully, he pulled the rocks away, making sure none of them fell inwards onto Jolt.

The small dragon lifted its head at his approach, nostrils flared wide to catch his scent. Rylan noted that his eyes were still not open. Presumably this hatchling was very young, and its eyes would open soon. 

Recognizing Rylan's scent, Jolt arched his back like a cat, and gave a small yelp of welcome. He was curled on top of Rylan's vest, obviously enjoying the feeling of the fur. 

Rylan stepped inside that cave and picked Jolt up. The little Pyron seemed to smell meat, sniffing at his coat pockets. Laughing, Rylan pulled out a small trout and held it out. After sniffing imperiously for a moment, Jolt lowered his head and snapped it up. The same fate met two meat strips, a chicken liver, and half of a cod. 

Rylan settled him back on top of the vest as he went around the cave, checking for cracks, holes, or any other potential escpae routes. This time, he had brought a torch to the cave with him, so when he lit it, he could see. 

All that the flickering light showed was smooth blank walls, polished from years of wind and water erosion. A few chunks of rock lay in the back, which Rylan moved outside to his rock pile.

He returned to Jolt and stroked him gently. They only had each other now. The Pyron that had been killed must have been Jolt's mother. 

"It's okay. I know how it feels," Rylan whispered, rubbing Jolt's small horns. 

Jolt should be safe in here for awhile, but Rylan knew that this small cave wouldn't be able to hold a fully grown Pyron. Hopefully by then Jolt would be large enough to fly, and they'd be able to escape the life Rylan had come to hate.