SUMMER

A deer-woman waited on the beach.

The sand was grey and thick beneath her bare hooves. Gentle, wonderfully salty air blew across her face, tossling through her hair and whispering around the stubs of her antlers. She spread her arms wide, bared by her pink tank top, to drink in the golden sun as it poured across the sea.

Where was there but the beach? The island city was thick with twisting roads and hidden corners, but a wall of trees at her back kept that all away, even as the grey heads of buildings tried to peek over it. The only place it was all shut away.

People passed by her as she reveled, humans on either side of her. They didn't pay her much mind, mostly distracted by phones or dogs or what-have-you. Honestly, she didn't care. The only thing she cared about was beyond that horizon. Because today wasn't just a chance to get away from the smoke and the noise and the work and the feeling small. Today, her dragon was coming.

Summer let her arms fall and brought her head down to look at the lapping water. In and out. In and out. Day after day. She stepped into it, letting the rhythm lick over the fur of her ankles. It was as warm as an ocean this far north got, which is to say, only barely more tolerable than an icebath, but there was still a delirious joy in the frigid rush.

She walked out further–with the tide so high, she could go a good ways before the water was even above her knees. But Summer didn't intend on walking that far right now–as much as she loved to swim, she needed her strength for later. But just a littleways out into the water graffiti-covered concrete rose above the surface, which would make a peaceful spot to wait. She hiked up the satchel on her shoulder to ford the short trench that dropped before the structure. Seaweed mingled loosely around her.

One hand on the top of the wall, one on a stone sticking free, she hauled herself out of the water and braced one hoof against a crater in the stone. She hung there for a moment, making sure her footing was solid against the slip of damp hooves, then vaulted herself to the top. She wiped her hands on her now-dripping trunks, then set the pack down against a pillar. The structure always reminded her of a fort, four-walled with a gap facing out to sea. It was in surprisingly good condition for having been battered by the waves since even before her parents got here.

From her bag, she withdrew a can of crushed pineapple, a checkered bandanna, and a stuffed moose. Letting her legs dangle off the side of the structure, she set the moose by her hip, spread the kerchief over her lap, and cracked the lid of the can. She took a sip of the sweet, biting juice. "We got ourselves a regular picnic here, 'ey Sel?"

The moose, being stuffed, had nothing to say.

Summer took another longing look over the sea. She could see it now, a distant black smudge with colorful pebbles upon its back. A container ship, heading past their little island to bigger places. If everything went through, where she'd be sleeping tonight. Her first sleep off the island. A joyful little shiver went through her at the thought.

She chewed thoughtfully on the chunky part of her pineapple. The rough rock beneath her was very noticeable through wet shorts. She cast a look back at the beach, people still out a'wandering, then turned back to the sea. And it was then that she saw a flash of gold.

Summer blinked and set the can to the side, leaning forward urgently, cupping her hands around her eyes in a desperate attempt to get any better vision. And then she saw it again–tiny, but distinct even among the burning sun, a darker shape winging its way away from the ship. She leaned back, relief flooding through her from worry she didn't know she'd been holding. The sun soaked warm into her heart.

It took awhile, like a long while, for the shape to make much progress. The sun sank behind it, touching the waves before the wings were even double the size. Summer finished her picnic and was left with nothing but sitting. The cement grew colder; the spray of the waves bit just a little bit deeper. And still the shape grew closer.

The sun was half-set, turning the sea and sky a radiant canvas of red-gold. Summer could see the other face now, breathing heavy, eyes set with determination. Those beautifully curled horns, like ram's, all sparkling in the last light of the day. Summer stood on the wall, careful of her balance, and waved her arms.

"Hey. Hey! Gold! Gold! Can you hear me!"

The dragon flapped and panted–the sound of her wingbeats now close enough to be audible over the rushing water and cawing gulls–but didn't respond. Perhaps a hopeful insisting, but Summer thought she saw her speed up.

The sun set. Stars wiggled their heads out across the sky. The beach was still bathed in half-light from the bright moon and city lights just beyond the trees, reflecting down from the oncoming clouds. A smile broke out across the dragon's face too as she covered the last hundred meters then finally swooped down to land on the left wall.

"Hah ... hah ... hey, Summer!" Gold called. "Sorry, just ... gimme a minute!"

"No problem." Summer bent down and rifled through her bag again. She came up with a second can of pineapple. She held it out. "Eh?"

Gold nodded, and Summer tossed it to her. The dragon caught it in her jaws, crushed it with one smooth bite, and spit out the crumpled metal. She swallowed, and smiled over at the deer-woman. "Thank you."

Summer came over and put a hand to the dragon's warm, rough cheek. "Hey."

"Hey."

They stood there for a minute, just ... seeing eachother. It had been weeks that felt like months or maybe eternity. But now the eternity closed in, settling its jaws around this one moment, the pulse of Gold's breath just out of rhythm with the beat that ran through Summer's hand. Gold's snout dipped a fraction of an inch and Summer rushed in, wrapping her arms around the dragon sinewy neck, burying her snout in her shoulder. She smelled like salt covering spice, metal under waves. Gold made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a choke.

After another long moment, cold wind buffeted into their sides, and Gold stumbled on the crumbling rock. Summer finally let her go, and stood facing her again.

"Are we all set?" Summer asked

"We are." Gold nodded. "I'm, uh, not really sure how I managed it, but we do have transit ... 'posed to get into Go-Home Bay in a couple days."

"And from there, the stars." Summer said, casting a glance back at her bag, which contained, among other essentials, her life savings. A modest sum, especially considering the years it took, but hopefully enough to book them transport and find a home on the other end. She looked up at the glittering sky. Her parents had come from there–they told her, sometimes, of a land of free-flowing form, of wide pastures and great forests. They never told her why they left. But with Gold, she was going to find out, and find a home–no matter what it took. She walked back and hefted the bag.

Then, finally, Summer lowered her eyes once more to her dragon. "Recovered?"

"Eh-heh mostly. Probably. Either way, I can't stand on this stupid toothspur much longer."

Summer snorted. "Alright, prissy-claws, let's get out of here."

Gold shook her head. "Every day, I regret being born without hooves." She lowered herself to the stone so Summer could climb on her back. Once she had, the dragon launched herself into the cooling air. Her wings beat furiously, and Summer held her breath–Gold hadn't flown much with her, certainly not after such a long day, would it be too much? But over the beach, Gold finally caught a glide, pumping them up high enough to coast over the trees before sliding around a u-turn.

A verse that her father sang came to her lips as the sand turned to sea:

"Let the autumn winds dry my bones,

let them like sand wash away.

Let the leaves come, and then they'll go,

now that summer's gone away."

"Hah." Gold laughed under her, the sound rumbling up through her legs. "They'll never see your bones."

"No. No, they won't." Summer glanced back at the island, where both her parents' bones had dried. Lights glimmered back at her, still watching out. "Do you think it's true what they say, that if you look back at the island as you leave, you're fated to return?"

Gold shook her shoulders, throwing Summer forward. "Don't think so."

"Neither do I." Summer murmured into Gold's warm neck, and that to her was a promise.