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Volci (C)  Chaos_Spino

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Ridley and his Dino Friend

Ridley circled over the lava-cragged plains of the molten peninsula, searching for prey. He thought about catching a few members of the hairless sapient species who lived here, thought about it a lot. But he had been searching all afternoon, and was weary now, so he descended and perched upon a smoldering peak of charcoal-black rock that overlooked the ashen plains through the charred air, and caught his breath.

He had wrapped his wings around his snout and skeletal chest of pale lavender, and was snoozing, until a far off pattering roused him awake. He slowly fanned his wings out, and saw travelling from the horizon a theropod—a spinosaurus, in fact. This spino had a lava-orange segmented fan on his backside, M-shaped, the fan coursing from the place between his shoulders to the base of his tail. Sporting lava streams were his snout, the sides of his lengthy gullet, his flanks and all of his limbs, including his maced tail. Now, this appearance caught Ridley’s eye: It had a charm, the obsidian hide of the spinosaurus. That, and Ridley had a strong liking for dinosaurs.

This one was chuffing wearily, though, and his lengthy throat swayed from side to side with even more emphasis than his main body. He seemed fatigued, and that concerned Ridley. Why was the dinosaur afflicted in this way? Spiked tail lashing at the callused ground, Ridley smote the air with his wings and kicked off, and soon he was landing a stone’s throw ahead of the theropod, so as to not scare him off, should he be a finicky one.

The space dragon trumpeted a greeting call. “Traveler, are you okay? You’re not stepping in a straight line. Are you wanting some water? Or is there anything I could do to assist you?”

The hypo spino had clenched up his muscles and held still, unsure whether to attack or flee; the dragon who stood on two legs was only about a claw-span taller than him. He relaxed at the sound of Ridley’s voice, and the corners of his eyes crinkled with a lethargic gratitude.

“Thank you for the kind words. You’re a welcome sight.” Then, with one last sputter of breath, he collapsed where he stood then sighed happily, as though he had just relieved himself of a heavy travelling pack. The lava veins of the crisped loam sizzled around him. Ridley saw that he was holding his forepaws slanted, so that their scaly soles weren’t touching the molten earth.

Ridley gave a hiccup of motion when he observed this. “Traveller,” he said, tramping closer, “are your feet too hot? Could I help you reach the ocean to cool yourself? It’s just a mile off.”

“Heheh, you think a little bit of superheated rock can hurt me? And you may call me Volci.” Volci shook his head. “The ocean is where I’m headed, but I’m in no rush, you see. My feet are just numb from me walking for maybe two or three hours straight, and I need to not use them for transportation for a good while is all. A massage for my feet would be nice. I’ve heard of such things in the murmurs of strange creatures. I’ve seen them performed from afar. Oh, how nice a paw massage would be.”

“A paw massage!” Ridley exclaimed. It sounded like he’d been asked a question to which he knew the answer. “Call me Ridley, by the way.”

What Ridley did next was queer to Volci, but because the spino was a curious creature he paid close attention: The space dragon reached his claws behind the back of his skull and pushed a button that Ridley’s head obstructed from Volci’s view; and then Ridley began to shrink before the theropod’s very eyes. First, from the size shared between them of a common dragon; then, to the size of an elephant. Volci’s gaze kept going down and down, and Ridley’s size was soon notched to that of a human, but from there it dwindled still. Finally Ridley stood looking up at Volci, even though Volci was lying down; and his height was no more than twice the length of one of the spino’s paws.

“I can offer you such!” squeaked Ridley, and the sway of his tail suggested that he’d have great enthusiasm in doing so. “Just lift your right forepaw back up for me, and I’ll toil away to soothe that soreness of your sole.”

“You can do that?” The hypo spino appeared himself hypnotised by the miniature dragon’s form, partly by the fantastic shifting of size that Ridley had displayed. “This is really something. Let’s see what you can do, little guy.”

He lifted a three-taloned forepaw a few inches off the ground, and that allowed Ridley to prance underneath the paw and heft it a bit higher above his lithe little arms. Volci’s surprise from a small sapient creature pushing on his foot single handedly pampered him.

“You’re stronger than you look, I would think!”

Mini Ridley just chuckled, and inhaled the pleasant, earthy musk of the worn folds above him. The omnipresent smell of ash and smoke was imprinted on them, but so was the gentler toasty scent distinct to a dinosaur. He smiled and nuzzled into those creases of craggy scale. The feeling gave his nerve clusters a kindly message: Despite the bitter state of the Molteninsulan soil upon which the spino had been treading, his feet had thick enough hide to maintain an uncanny smoothness and softness, even though there could be felt some calluses here and there. Places closer to the heel, along with the tips of the digits, even had somewhat squishy flesh. Ridley rubbed his claws from the center of the foot out to the digits, humming. The talons opened up as he did his work; and all round him, the world took to quaking, the epicenter of the earthquake being the spino’s throat.

“Ya like that, big guy, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Could you shrink smaller, even?”

“If you won’t crush me, I’ll consider it!”

“Then consider it considerable.”

Volci felt his micro friend go still, then fidget underneath his sole for a second. The weight of the paw suddenly bore down on Ridley more than before—so much so, the tips of the claws perched upon the cragged ground, and Volci felt Ridley mumble an “Oof” underneath the canvas of scaly flesh.

“You alright, little one?”

“Y-yes,” came an even reedier voice. Capitalizing on his shrunken size, Ridley pushed his paws into the narrower furrows between the spino’s tough scales and kneaded into the vulnerable flesh. Tingles went to the very tip of Volci’s tail. Much of the physical malady from his walk was melting away already; and he found himself nodding toward sleep, the process enveiled him in such comfort.

No creature whose size equalled that of Volci’s could have replicated the thorough massage without small, professional tools and a magnifying glass. Ridley rolled his hands into those theropod trenches with seeming magical effect. Places that Volci had not even realized required therapeutic care, Ridley rubbed and groped; and after some time, the hypo spino could feel tiny nostril breaths of a muzzle facing his sole. The tender warmth of a slick tongue rolled over the flesh nearest his heel, then over his claws. The acupressure work of the sapient critter seemed to Volci quite miraculous. His paw felt so relaxed, so rejuvenated. He reckoned he could walk across Molteninsula again with just that one foot.

“Maybe do my other ones, too,” said the spino. He said it so lazily, so smoothly, a burst of chemicals inside of Ridley’s head said to the dragon, Mission Accomplished. He grinned, knowing that that was not quite true. He had reached a checkpoint in his giving of charity to Volci, aye, but there was more to be done.

So Ridley clambered up from underneath the limp and heavy sole, then skittered over to the second forepaw. He caressed and licked and pampered that paw all the same, while Volci smiled, his M-shaped fan fluttering slowly; and soon, he had a pair of paws out of which all the achiness and rigidity had evacuated. Ridley did not cease his assistance there: Afterward, he scrambled back to Volci’s hindpaws, which were larger, and tougher because they did the most strenuous walking. Volci would lift a hindpaw, allow Ridley to crawl underneath, then squish Ridley beneath each paw; in this way, Volci could role his heel, sole and claws over the dragon’s body and assist in his own massage while the dragon happily embraced the sides of the foot, wriggling and squirming and pecking a couple of kisses onto the claws here and there. When Ridley crept beneath that final foot, he kneaded deep into it using his muzzle; and the steady strokes eased Volci so much, he didn’t think he would ever reach the ocean with his current relaxedness.

At least, not until Ridley slackened and rested from his hybrid of fun and labor. He sighed between the dinosaur’s great, molten claws and nosed into them one last time. “How are you feeling, Volci? Are your feet any happier than before?”

“Yes,” Volci decided after a pause. “I did not know before that my paws could feel so content. And that feeling is rubbing off on me. I should thank you for showing me the joy of paw contentedness.”

“Ya know, you really need to get massaged more often! Is there anywhere else you’re feeling sore?”

“Perhaps,” said Volci. “When my feet hurt, I have this habit of clenching my teeth. I had been doing so for the length of my walk, earlier. I don’t expect you to rub my jowls, though. One could not be so trusting, although you did acquaint yourself with my claws without protesting.”

“Well, not only did I not protest—I offered! And lucky you, the maw of a charming predator such as yourself is one of my favorite places to enter, inhabit and explore.”

“You’re pulling my leg,” said Volci.

“I could do no such thing; my arms won’t reach quite that high at this size.”

“A fair point, little dragon. So, are you offering me something again? Could you truly give my mouth a massage from the inside?”

“You can count your spines on it!”

“I’d rather not,” said Volci, “as I have very many spines, and I would probably get bored by the time I counted to ten.”

“Well, I’ll do it anyway. There’s just one thing that I need to do beforehand.”

Ridley poked one of his size buttons; and with a “Woah,” Volci tumbled over, for the space dragon rose up from underneath his paw to be a similar height as the theropod. Ridley proffered a hand to help him up, and they hugged when they both stood.

“Before I hop inside your maw, I want to wash up, since I’ve been frolicking under your feet for the last half hour. The ocean’s what—a couple of miles away? Want to come with, or stay put until I get back?”

“If it were just me here, I would sleep the sun away. But I couldn’t make you travel an extra two miles, not after the friendliness you’ve shown me. I was headed that way for a gulp of saltwater, anyway.”

So they trekked across the molten plain, and meandered through a stout ravine; and the pass opened up to reveal the ocean beyond pale obsidian sands. Its waters were an inky black color but glistening nonetheless; and they were a joy to swim in and drink from, knew Ridley and Volci, for they were waters laden with volcanic minerals. Volci paced to the edge of the shore, tides lapping at his soothed toes, and he took laps of the saltwater, but abstained from swimming. Meanwhile, Ridley happily flew a storey up, then dipped into the ocean snout-first, and then swam and splashed and flapped and sprayed water. And from time to time he would dive up like a dolphin, his jumps doubly propelled by his sleek, pink-membraned bat wings. The first thing Ridley did when he was done swimming was shrink down and dive into an unsuspecting dino’s maw.

The last of things that Volci expected while he was taking a drink was for a fish to leap into his mouth. Or, at least, initially, he thought a fish had leapt into his mouth. But no, the creature whose spiked tail slithered its way into the theropod’s maw was the space dragon himself, the dragon shorter than any of Volci’s claws.

“You’ve got some impressive chops here. Getting enough calcium in your diet, I see. And plenty of protein, I can smell …” Ridley plodded down the length of the tongue, and splayed and fluttered his wings as he walked to keep his balance, because the slick, budded appendage wasn’t necessarily the most level or stable surface. Nor was it any easier to stay his balance when a large beast was breathing smoky barbecue breath against his body.

And yet, Ridley did not lose confidence as he strode forward, nor did he falter. The hypo spino had expressed that his jaws felt sore from clenching them, and so Ridley felt obligated to cross the oral serpent to reach the part of the cheeks where the joints lay underneath; and that he did.

Initially, Volci had the urge to ask a question. Is that you? he might have asked without the self-control that he possessed. Of course it was Ridley: Fish don’t have spiked tails, do they? Nor do they stagger along your tongue and stay upright, like a biped on a tightrope. And plus, if Volci were to speak, he sensed that Ridley would lose his balance from the flapping of his tongue, so he refrained from questioning. He stumbled a couple of paces away from the ebbing waters then rested his belly on the shore and closed a little his mouth, relaxing as Ridley hobbled to the back of his maw.

Warm hands pushed into the squishy cheek flesh, beneath which Volci’s jaw joints were feeling tense. The rhythm of Ridley’s rubs, coming and going as the tides ahead of him did, made Volci feel younger and safer: Ridley rocked and cradled his cheek flesh, and the drool splattered on the space dragon’s paws, lubricating the claws that now rolled and rubbed and appreciated the walls of the gargantuan, humid maw.

“Woah!”

Ridley backed away from the walls as the rippling folds of flesh stretched, and more light shined through from the ashen grey daylight of the Molteninsulan sky, for Ridley had incited a great yawn, along with a subtle tremor during which fogs of charry breath billowed along the furrowed canopy of the palate before rising through crags of teeth up into the outside world. The floor beneath his miniature soles caved, splaying like a lithe panther; and when the yawn ceased, the lower jaw intuitively smacked against the roof of the mouth, so that the tongue squished Ridley against the roof and rolled and back and forth, basting him in slather, the maw slathering more intensely. Ridley blushed, finding himself lying on his back; and he hugged the palate which had fallen upon him, rubbing into the small canyons and exploring the curvature. May as well while he was in this position, he figured.

Volci enjoyed grinding Ridley between his tongue and his palate for more reasons than one. The space dragon’s presence so intimately pressed between the flesh of his mouth was a fitting partner to the calm crashes of the waves ahead. That, and the exotic, somewhat salty flavor of the dragon made the dragon serve as a sort of lozenge for Volci’s throat, easing some of the soreness from the smoky atmosphere that Volci was not even previously aware of.

Although Ridley had never gotten around to rubbing the adjacent side of Volci’s cheek, Volci reckoned that there was no need for that, now: Just flexing his jaws over Ridley and suckling on the dragon had loosened the joints of his jaws, and Ridley’s mere presence slackened the other joints of his body, as well as the musculature of his rugged frame.

“Friend, how could I repay you for what you’ve done for me? And don’t say you don’t want anything. I insist; I’m indebted to you for all of the nice treatment you’ve given me.”

So, Ridley considered his options. Millions upon millions of different things were waiting to be spoken—but of course, he asked for something related to their sizeplay: “If you wouldn’t mind, then I wouldn’t mind playing with you beneath my own paws. Would that interest you?”

“That sounds like great, exotic fun, Ridley! But I’m not able to change my size like you are. I wouldn’t be able to shrink to such a critteresque size. I’m sorry, but I must decline because of my body’s limitations.”

A little laugh that was not Volci’s resonated from the spino’s mouth. “Silly, I’m not asking you to shrink yourself. I’m asking you only if you would like to find yourself under the soles of a giant me.”

“Oh? Is that what you’re asking? Why, then, yes! Gracious, how big are you going to get?”

A giddy little guffaw came from Ridley. The space dragon clambered down from the dino’s lip, dropped onto the beach then tapped the back of his head a few times. A dumbfounded look spread across Volci’s face, for the space dragon’s body expanded to the same size as his, and then double that; and then the hypo spino was wheeling around, and he clumsily scrambled away from a tidal wave—not a tidal wave of the sea, but of the growing draconic talons whose color was a marblish periwinkle, for each claw grew to the length of a hypo spino! Over the beach the overgrown Ridley reared his back, splayed his wings and roared—and the earthquake of sound certified that his kaiju stature was no illusion. He measured hundreds of feet tall; and the sea capered away in great wavelets from his resounding, booming snout.

Now, the sound—in addition to Volci’s clumsiness of the moment—catapulted the dino onto his back, upon which he lay a bit dizzily, looking up at the growing colossus that he was greatly relieved to call his friend.

“So this is what it’s like to be such a size,” exclaimed the hypo spino; and with a megalithic chuckle, Ridley nodded his head and lifted his foot closest to Volci.

Around the glistening scales of the leviathan paw, curtains of beach sand crumbled down, off on the sides and between the gorges of the claws. Volci’s heart thumped to the thrill of it all, while the canvas of the soles—composed of pastel greyish purple scales—beheld its myriad plate-like tiles above the dino, and the digits wiggled themselves at Volci, causing the interior muscles to flex and the wrinkles of scale to glimmer in the act. The dino’s nostrils flared, and Volci appreciated the clean, earthy, draconic musk of the paws, along with the overall scent of the gigantic male, which had strengthened. He grinned at the claws’ wiggly invitation, and then scampered between a duo of talons just in time for the foot to plant down and gift him with a friendly squish.

Reptilian purrs motored underneath the twiddling toes of giant Ridley. In a world of powerful body massages from a pair of godly, rolling digits Volci found himself. They squished his belly into the warm beach sands, crackling his back in a pleasing and not painful way. However, the amount of pressure placed upon Volci attested to Ridley’s skill and carefulness in the art of delivering therapy with his foot-paws. After just a few minutes of the execution of the positively tranquilizing art form, Volci had successfully vacated the physical plane and inhabited the sweet, Dionysian one. He clawed up clumps of beach sand as the motor of his throat descended in volume, for the speed of Ridley’s toe curlings had gently subsided.

Hawkishly, Ridley curled his three claws in toward the center of the triangle they formed: They plucked up the hypo spino by the flanks, and maintained their grasp as Ridley lifted and swiveled his foot, which allowed him to fetch up the dino in a forepaw. Held before the beakish curve of the dragon’s muzzle, Volci gazed into the great, golden eyes of his friend, shivering from the surrealty of their size difference. From above the platform of a draconic palm, a single claw levered down and stroked from Volci’s head down the spindly spine of his body and tail. Feeling the claw brush against his M-shaped back fan, Volci sunk down and hummed, his claws curling laxly around the ledges of the forepaw. Then, the dragon’s lengthy jaws yawned apart and showcased a potential bed upon which Volci could cuddle for a nap. The paw shifted close enough to the lip of the lower jaw for the spino to tense up in the hindquarters, then spring into the dragon’s mouth for the jaws to close upon him and award him his beauty rest. And so the spino cosied into the dragon’s tastebuds, while the overhang of teeth lowered to shade him, enshrouding him in the safety of the maw; then Ridley lounged himself against an oceanside cliff before which the beach was sprawled, kicking his legs into the ocean.

Together, the two settled, then napped sweetly and soundly; and after a couple of hours, the two were awakened by a monstrous snore from Ridley; and since they were awake, they decided to reverse their roles again for good time’s sake. Once the spino had been safely carried to the ground, Ridley shifted to the humble size of a prehistoric quadruped’s maw inhabitant. He hopped up then winged his way into Volci’s extended jaws, which delicately clicked shut to gutter away the light and immerse the dragon in that ambiance of serene, toasty breaths.

Yonder, over the ocean horizon, the sun crawled out of the turgid grey clouds; and the light receded from the charred land, making the air a wee less sultry. And once the shore was cool and shadowy, and the only external activity came from the assuringly constant ebbs of the waves, dragon and dinosaur were isolated together in an unruffled harmony. Their snores of sizes big and small were the embraces which filled their dreams with gladdening scenarios: visions of themselves playing and adventuring across the Molteninsulan terrain and beyond with their new friend. With each other.

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