Some days were good. Seersha would climb out of bed, walk out into the sunlight, and feel almost content in himself. Feel okay. Other times he had to drag himself from murky dreams he couldn’t remember; ones that left their grimey handprints all over his mind. Smears of the dark, snippets of the past. They’d taint him no matter what he was doing, a prickling sense of wrongness and anxiety just under the skin. He’d jump at shadows, and flinch to sounds that weren’t there.

Today was one of those days.

Clutching the bag of groceries he’d been asked to get by his troupe leader, Seersha ground his teeth at the sluggish pace of the crowd. His chest was tight, his heart a thick thudding against his rib cage. An anxiety attack was lingering the distance, he could feel it. All he had to do was get home. Nothing would happen. He was safe. If only the cart blocking the road ahead would hurry.

”Wait”. Seersha paused, titling his head to turn his ear towards the sound. “You!” He flinched and, realizing it was right behind him, looked back.

There was a huge manakete right behind him, coming right at him, coming to pin and tear and --

Seersha made a choked gasp, whipping full around to face the threat. His wings, small things that hadn’t yet grown much, snapped open to mantle around his shoulders in an attempt to make him look bigger. The slit pupils of his eyes were blown out in fear, his clawed hands clutching convulsively at his own arms and drawing blood. He looked around frantically - behind him the cart still blocked the path, and on either side buildings had drawn in close as a bottleneck.
He needed an escape - any escape! Seersha snarled, a guttural sound that would have terrified him if he hadn’t been filled to the brim with it already. He swiped an arm forward; a raking of his claws.

And there it was! A small gap right next to the other manakete; one he could just fit through!
….
If he were still 5’ and eighty pounds. But in that moment, in that blister of panic, he was still the 5’ weakling from before. Was still smaller than the man before him.

Seersha lunged forward, twisting his body try and cram through.

But there were points of collision, and most importantly the curve of his horn tip fell into the curve of the other dragon’s horn, hooking them cheek to cheek as he barreled by to the right.

(Hope this was okay! Let me know if Cass would have moved his head too fast for the chance of their horns to get tangled and I’ll change it to him just crashing his side into him! Also I tend to go for short posts in action sequences, so I hope that'll be okay if it goes that way! )

This was not the quick escape Seersha had in mind. With the adrenaline flooding his system and making him quiver in the numb-tingling of panic, he initially didn’t comprehend what had happened. He assumed his horn had just withstood a blow aimed to the side of his head, and reverberation that rattled his teeth was evidence. But as he continued to bull forward a few steps, the crowd parting around him like a school of confused fish in the face of a shark, he could feel a force pulling his head backwards and down. Seersha tried to raise to his full height to scope out another escape, but there was something weighing him.

His horn was a handle, yet again. The other manakete was grabbing it and yanking back - he couldn’t ecaspe, couldn’t escape--

But then he was free, and his brain sluggishly processed seeing the other manakete pull their locked horns apart from the corner of his eye. Seersha faced him so his back wouldn’t be exposed. A crowd had formed a small ring around the pair, probably anticipating a fight that might be entertaining. He’d have to knock people over to get out, but then that still left a clog of people behind them to--

“I just wanted to talk!”

Seersha flinched away from the yell, taking in the fighting stance of the other, and the bubble of his resistance popped and melted into despair. Unbidden, he made a long low sound, a whimpering keen that seemed bizarre and uncomfortable coming from someone his size and build. He tucked his wings against his back tightly, curled his tail between his legs, and went to his knees. Eyes listless and looking at the ground he titled his head to bare his throat to the other manakete. It was a process he’d done many times in his life. Showing his tribe’s signals of defeat; of submission.

“Do what you will.” He said dully in the dragontongue of his clan, a short and hissing language.

It was mortifying. It always was. He would bristle in shame at all the eyes of the crowd on him if all his emotions hadn’t been scorched out by the adrenaline.

“That’s it?” He heard someone say, distantly, from the crowd. A boo from another direction, picked up by another few people, robbed of their impromptu entertainment.

Seersha watched the other manakete approach in the corner of his eye, and his body tensed like a bow’s drawstring pulled tight. There was a little ripping sound at the sleeve of one bicep, but he didn’t have time to worry about it at the moment. He nodded at the question of if he understood, eyes still down and to the side.

please get up.

At the tone, Seersha moved to hastily obey, pushing himself off of his knees and onto his feet. His tail swept back behind him, and he would have grimaced at the slick feel of mud on scales if he’d had more attention to spare. However, in the process of getting up, he lurched to a stop as he saw the other manakete give him space and kneel down himself. In confusion, he paused, still squatting. Was this a trap? Seersha had yielded, he had no right to rise if the other was sitting.

“My name is Seersha. I am…” He paused, not knowing what he was supposed to say. “Nervous.” He blanched at the slip up. “Now tribeless.” He quickly said instead, reluctant to speak his ex-tribe’s name in case there’d been bad blood between them and whatever tribe the manakete in front of him came from.

“Oh, move it yer two. Yor blockin' all the bleedin' traffic wiv yor bulks.” A merchant said from behind Seersha, her arms full of bags of flour.