Fit For Travel: The Perils of Newly Armored Hugin

   Hugin was sunbathing happily one day when White Raven came along and spoiled it all with a horrible grin on her face. Now, he didn't mind a saddle overmuch, she always used just a small scrap of one compared to others that he had seen on other dragons in the past and he was very grateful for it. But when she strapped this new stuff on--well--he was certainly less than pleased. . .

    White Raven knew that at times, life would be dangerous and quite difficult for both her and Hugin, and she had to do all that she could to keep him safe. So, that being said, she painstakingly collected, and crafted and traded and bartered and begged until she had all the pieces assembled, ragtag and motley though they may be, for a full suit of light armor for Hugin. She herself favored boiled leather armaments with metal plating secured in pockets where she needed the extra protection. It made it lighter and easier to bear than chain mail or full plate would be by far. Even scale was pushing the weight limit too far. She was slight of frame, and speed in her line of work mattered a great deal, making the difference between being alive and being dead quite often. So, she couldn't afford to be weighted down, and neither could Hugin. He had to be swift of wing, and have the best range she could provide him. So when she collected all the pieces, as awful to look at as a whole as anything she had seen cobbled together, she was pleased with the overall weight of it all. It was light, compact, and would protect his softer parts. He could easily overcome the weight limitations, as scant as they were. But the question was--Would he even let her put it on him?

She still remembered the first saddling. . .

   Gods, what a disaster that had been! He kept whipping it off when she would go to secure it! He would wait until she was bent over to secure the straps, and then it'd be gone in an instant, and flung over by the briar patches, which in turn tried to eat her alive with its prickling thorns and Hugin just looked so smug through it all. . . She bared her teeth in a rictus grin at this memory, and now it was time to try the armor too.

  Still grinning, she brought along an innocuous piece of armor and hid it behind her back. It was the tail cover. Hugin was looking so peaceful in the sunlight, a part of her felt bad about waking him up to put it all on, but given the hell he had put her through with the saddle, all reservations flew out the window.

   "Oh Hugin, my love, my dearest heart, could I trouble you for a moment please?" He knew that tone and was leery of it. Usually if she pulled it out, it meant he was in for it. . . but what could she possibly have in mind now? Confused, but amiable, Hugin strode over to her, and she circled around him, cooing softly tender words of concern and care to him as she did so, before snaring his tail viper quick in a tight grip and slamming something across it swiftly. He gave a yelp at the grip, and whirled about, trying to shake it free! Something was biting his butt and his tail and HE DIDN'T LIKE IT ONE BIT!!! White Raven was no help! She was the one who made it chomp him!

  Fat tears welled up in his eyes as he frantically tried to dislodge the evil contraption. White Raven just watched on, eyes full of malicious mischievous glee and that terrifying grin painted on her lips. Panicking at this point, Hugin let out a mournful wail, fearful that it would continue to consume him, that his beautiful tail would not be enough for its voracious appetites and he would suffer further losses. . .

  Finally White Raven put out a comforting hand and stroked his cheek soothingly. Her voice was tinged with laughter and chiding as she told him to settle down.

  "Oh calm down ya big baby. . . It ain't gonna hurt ya none. It'll hurt ya a lot less than it did me when ya flung the saddle that day. All it is is armor for you. Like my leathers. It's to keep ya safe when we go places that might hurt us. It's not gonna be an all the time kinda thing, just a sometimes thing for ya. I worked hard to gather all the pieces, and I need to be sure it all fits proper and if it doesn't, I need to know what doesn't so I can get pieces that fit better instead. So are ya gonna cooperate or not?" She leveled him with a hard gaze, and he lowered his head looking for all the world like an embarrassed child who got caught by a shadow startling him only to learn it was a branch and not someone looking to devour him.

   Steadily, she picked up each piece, fitting it to him snugly if she could, clucking at overlarge pieces and sighing at the too tight items. She fought and cursed and cajoled the armor to sit the way she required on his patient form, and when she was done, he felt stiff and awkward in the extreme. Only a few pieces needed adjusting, and she figured she could cull the excess from the oversized pieces to suit the sizing up of the too snug pieces and praying it was going to be enough.

  Hugin, at this point, felt ridiculous, stiff and afraid to take too deep a breath, lest he explode the seams and send the pieces flying in a flurry of burst laces and scraps of leather and end up making White Raven cry. He knew she meant well, and that this would take getting used to, but gods, he wished she woulda just stopped at the saddle!