Hiiiiii everyone! I haven't uploaded a story in a while… I wonder why that is… No matter, I just uploaded one! I got the idea from a school project thingy. There's a reference to "Dear Friend" in here as well you might want to check it out. Sorry if thee two seem a bit OOC. I haven't read any of the inheritance cycle for ages. Anyway, enjoy!
A glint of sapphire blue could be seen flashing off the sparkling water as a majestic dragon lazed about next to a small lake under a lush palm like tree. The sun was out, beating down on the dried, cracked ground with a passion.
"The brown furry creatures, little one?"
If one where to observe the scene from afar, they would gather that the dragon was simply trying to gain some sweat minutes of rest, not having a detailed conversation with her rider. About the sounds animals make, no less.
The Rider, extremely drowsily, lifted his head from the dragon's powerful lower limb and replied to the previously asked question. "Bears, you mean?"
"If that's what you call them."
"Yes, that's what we call them." Eragon confirmed. "They make the sound of… They make the sound of thunder. But a controlled thunder, like a rushing waterfall."
"What do you call the sound?" Saphira queried.
"It's called the same as when you make noise from your mouth. A roar."
The boy relaxed his muscles and sunk his head back to rest once again on the sinewy thigh of his dragon. A comfortable silence drifted over the conversation as both their energies where sapped from the heat of the suns rays. Saphira could feel Eragon drifting off to sleep.
"What about game?"
Eragon thought about it. "Deer you mean? Don't make me talk about deer, Saphira. Remember what I told you about last time?"
"As you wish, little one." She agreed. "Would rabbit be preferable?"
Eragon looked satisfied. "Rabbits… They make two different sounds. A squeaking sound, which is quite irritable. It's just a high pitched squeal. "
Saphira blinked her massive eyelids. "And the second sound?"
"Well, it's kind of hard to explain. It really is just a grunt. Like if you where to grind rocks against your teeth."
"And this helps them?"
"Not really." Eragon rubbed his stubble. "It's just the sound they make."
Saphira yawned. "How do you possibly come up with names for all these strange noises?"
Eragon could honestly say he was stumped. He thought about the question. "Well, I guess it's just what the noises have or what they sound like?"
Saphira looked puzzled. Eragon picked up on her bewilderment and asked her what she was puzzled about.
"If noises are named from what they sound like or have," she started. "Why aren't plants named with noises?"
Eragon nodded. "I guess your right. We should come up with names for plants. It's just, regular humans can't hear plants. They aren't tuned into nature."
The dragon gazed about, and, sighting one of the few patches of grass on the mostly brown expanse of desert, said; "What noise name should grass have, little one?"
Eragon reached out, and linked with the many blades of grass. Too him, it sounded as if old paper was being rustled together as lightly as possible.
"It sounds like paper…" he voiced his opinion. "And it's green. But we can't just go around saying 'listen to the grass. It's green paper-ing.'"
Saphira didn't agree. "Why is that?"
"Well… because…" Eragon saw how trying to explain the natural language of humans to a dragon would fail miserably, so he gave up and moved to the next plant. "Never mind. What about the tree we're under? What noise would we call that?"
Saphira leaned in close. The hollow inside made the slightest noise reverberate a thousand times over, bouncing off the pipe like walls of the wooden structure.
"It sounds like one of the things humans hit with a stick."
"The instrument, Eragon. It's a circle and your kind hit it with a stick."
Eragon realised she was talking about a drum. He jumped up from his lounging position, all traces of fatigue forgotten, and wandered over to the tree. He put his ear against it.
"Do you have a name for this noise, little one?"
"No. But your right, it does sound like a drum."
"Then I think we should call it drum-ing."
"But it's not drumming, Saphira. And that doesn't have anything to do with the exterior!"
"Well, what is on the outside of the tree?" Saphira gestured to the bark with a nod of her gigantic skull.
Eragon traced his hands over the rough grey surface, feeling the warped skin and twisted knots.
"It's called bark."
"So can we not say the tree is barking?"
"No, that's the noise dog's make!"
"Are you telling me this tree is a dog?"
"No of course no-"
"Because that's what it sounds like, Eragon."
"No, I was saying that dogs bark!" Eragon was frustrated from the abrupt interruption. Saphira could feel it, and decided to have some fun.
"Do dogs have bark?" she questioned.
"No, Saphira, they do not hav-"
"Does this tree have bark?"
Eragon sighed. "Yes, Saphira, this tree has bark."
Saphira was finding it extremely difficult to hold a straight face, but she prevailed and kept serious.
"So why not say this tree barks, little one?"
"Because dog's bark!"
"But they don't have bark."
"Yes, they make bark!"
"They make bark?"
Eragon face palmed. "No, they make the noise of barking!"
"But they do not have bark?"
"Then why is their noise called a bark?"
"Because! It just sounds like the word bark when they make noise!" The boy was waving his arms around like his head was chopped off.
Saphira couldn't keep this up for longer. Eragons reaction was priceless!
"But you said, little one, that the noise is named because of what an animal has and what is sounds like?"
Eragons teeth where receiving a brutal clenching punishment. "Well, I guess I was wrong, Saphira."
"What was that?"
"I said I was wrong! You don't have to rub it in." Eragon crossed his arms and skulked back to his former position at the dragon's hind legs. He sunk to the ground and landed with a dull thump.
The soft lull of the sun once again made itself prominent in the environment, this time giving some leeway as its harsh rays had died down somewhat as the day progressed. The sunset could be seen in the far distance, and the coupled heat of the ground was rising in its muggy blur to the sky, bubbling away into the atmosphere.
The Dragon and Rider had accomplished another comfortable silence. The boy thought this would be the last he heard of the matter until…
"Honestly Eragon, I don't know how your possibly going to defeat Galbatorix with such poor language skills!"