Kavia has been trekking through the woods for the last two hours, hunting for dragonwort.

That...is not dragonwort. That is a dragon. A very small dragon. Kavia's not an expert on dragons, but it probably shouldn't be out of the nest on its own, at that size? 

"...hello?" she whispers, quiet in case the tiny dragon is sleeping. 

Not sleeping, but his response is to flinch and curl tighter around his bottle, shaking slightly.

"Oh! No, it's okay, I won't hurt you..." 

Maybe if she crouches down, to look less threatening?

He sneaks a look at her, from under one wing, but doesn't uncurl, does in fact curl tighter around his bottle. "mine." (It's not quite a snarl.)

"I know! I know it's yours, I won't try and take it, I just want to talk to you," she soothes. 

"I'm Kavia. What's your name?"

He shuffles slightly so he can watch her better. "...Tyau," he provides after a pause.

Smoke. A pretty standard, if uncreative, name for a baby dragon. 

"Nice to meet you, Tyau. That's a cute name!"

He blinks, doesn't exactly relax, and certainly doesn't uncurl, but his wings settle back a little so they're not concealing his face so much.

There's scrapes visible on his sides, made more obvious by the fact that a few of his scales had been torn loose - marks from claws?

She frowns. That's...not a good sign. 

"Are you okay? Those look nasty."

He flinches slightly. "I-m'fine." Realises he spoke a bit loud, dips his head down, huddles around his bottle. "was bad."

"You don't look fine..."

And that's really not a good sign. "Where are your parents?" Oh, wait, dragons only have one - "Sorry, parent." 

He flinches again, starts shaking. "I- the lair. I-" He doesn't want to go back, he's not sure he's allowed to go back.

"Do you want me to help you find your way back, or...help you find somewhere else to go?" she offers.

"You can't just stay out in the woods," she continues, trying to keep her tone gentle so it doesn't sound like an admonishment. "It's not safe." 

At the suggestion of going back he curls tighter again. "I- not sure- if I can. I- " He looks around as much as he can from his curled position and somehow seems to slump. "don't know- where to go."

...yeah. 

"You...could come home with me?" She's pretty sure Mal won't mind her bringing home a stray; it's not like he'd have much of a leg to stand on if he complained, given how often he does the same. 

...

He peeks out at her again. "Don't want to be a bother."

"Well, you don't look like you'd take up much space," she jokes without thinking, then bites her lip. That probably wasn't the best thing to say. 

"I don't!" he rushes to assure. And as quiet as he's been speaking before, the more normal volume seems like a shout. He winces and flinches slightly tighter again. "sorry, sorry. M'quiet too."

"Yeah, you're very quiet," she says with a smile. "Not that I'd mind if you weren't."

Please let her not have scared him away...

He keeps watching her, obviously not sure what to do. "I- Whatever you think best?" he mumbles eventually, bottle clutched tight to himself.

"...okay. Um." 

She breathes.

"I think you should come with me. I have a friend who—knows a lot more about dragons than I do," because he is one, "and he'll be able to figure out how to help you." 

He gives something approximating a nod. "O-Okay," he agrees.

"Great!" She stands up and dusts off her skirt. 

"It'll take more than an hour to get there, maybe an hour and a half. Would you like to ride in my basket?" 

He scrambles to his own feet, shakes his head. "I- M'fine. C'n walk."

Tiny dragon continues to be adorable.

"Okay, well, let me know if you change your mind and want a ride." She'll walk fairly slow, so he stands a chance of keeping up.