February 28th, 1894 — The Kiln, Keeper’s Cottage

“No one’s seen Nigel,” Howell told Sandow, referring (obviously) to the dragon so named at the reserve. His tone was gruff with concern, his movements tensed as he pulled on his boots over an extra layer of socks. “He’s the last one unaccounted for.” There was only so far the dragons could get within the confines of the reservation, and they had pinned down the whereabouts and the wellbeing of the rest – some injuries; some distressed; no fatalities, only some crushed eggs – but Howell would not feel at ease again until he knew that Nigel was alright.

So he had knocked on Sandow’s bedframe as soon as it was light enough to try their chances outside again. The snow hadn’t let up yet, but Howell hadn’t slept properly since it’d started – and wouldn’t, until they made sure Nigel was safe. (Sandow had no self-preservation – so he was a liability outside alone, particularly in weather like this – but at least, unlike some of the other layabouts, he would not protest to coming out.)

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Raj Sandow/Tycho Dodonus

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   Nigel Yarwood

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Raj had grunted but not immediately risen when he of uncreative parents knocked on his bedframe. "Last I checked, he was still farting around Romania," he joked, knowing full well which Nigel the older man was on about. Sometimes Raj suspected that Dragon Nigel was the only one Howell actually cared about.

"Well, let's find your baby and get him safe," Raj said as he fully rose and pulled on his boots. The keepers cottage had been doing a piss poor job of keeping the cold out so he had slept fully dressed.

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   Howell Howell

Howell just looked at him with a heavy-browed glare, unamused by the joke. This was not the time for joking.

His mouth also twitched in a slight frown at your baby, but he didn’t protest, because at least Sandow was moving.

“He was last noted up on the west ridge,” Howell informed him, and there was something more restless, more worried than usual in his stance. “But that was before the snow started.” There were any number of natural caves he could have sheltered in, if Nigel had wanted to get away from the weather – but Howell was worried he’d tried to fly in it, and been injured and grounded by it. The rivers out that way were rocky, and now all frozen through. If Nigel had drowned in one of the Glen’s valley lakes, Howell didn’t know if he’d survive it.

Howell had gathered together a few things to help in the search. His wand, a lantern for them each in case it was hard to see them through the snow, some ropes and a dragon harness, a dragon-flute to whistle for him. A sheep’s head, in a sack over his shoulder, in case Nigel was hungry. Howell drew his scarf tighter around him as they stepped outside. “Is there anywhere you can think of that hasn’t been checked?”

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Raj nodded to show he was listening. He personally figured the dragon had to be okay. They didn't survive so long by being weak. Though granted the current weather was unusual.

As they stepped outside, he settled a pair of snow goggles over his eyes. "What about the expanse of caves near the river? The ones the dragons don't typically go near on a normal day?" His implication being that perhaps they had not been as looked into and perhaps the dragons presence had somehow been missed. Some were quite dark and they were only human, after all.

  

He supposed Sandow was right – they could have missed a dragon in the series of interconnecting caverns down along that way. It would make sense that they’d gone to shelter – unlike some, Nigel wasn’t stupid – but Howell’s worries would not be soothed yet. “We’ll start there,” he said, as they set off that way, although he was already worried about the dangers of it – he might know the Glen like the back of his hand, but he was no expert in this kind of weather.

There were ways he and Sandow could get injured – slip on a bit of ice and break a leg, lose their bearings if the blizzard started back up, get stranded somewhere – but Howell’s fears were unspooling in a different direction. “You don’t think the cave entrances have gotten blocked up by snow?” he said. “Or – if he squeezed in too far, and got stuck where it gets narrow?” This could be a bigger rescue operation even if they found him.

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The continuing onslaught of snowfall made it hard to see where he was going but he and Howell both knew the Glen. Could traverse it blindfolded, more than likely. He thought they would do all right.

"I think that is a possibility. We could try and melt through the snow or dig it out which might be the safer option." Even if a dragons hide was thicker and would be impervious to magic used to melting snow - it would still be something annoying to them. And an annoyed dragon was no ones friend. Except maybe Howells.

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   Howell Howell

“Worth the trying,” Howell agreed, picking up his pace as they got nearer the newly-frozen river that would lead them up to one of the (usually) more accessible mouths of the cavern system. “They’d be able to melt themselves out, if they were turned the right way around, so...” If there was one of their dragons trapped, it would be especially antsy if it couldn’t even see its exit.

“If it gets hairy in there,” Howell warned, before they went any further towards the cave mouth – they had guessed right, it was rendered almost invisible by the snowdrifts – “you’ll get out and send up the sparks for backup, and I’ll wait with it.” It was a given, but all the same: needed to be said. Contingencies.

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Raj nodded in agreement though right now, it felt like any snow they dug out would be immediately replaced by the continuing blizzard around them. No one had ever been able to accuse a dragonkeeper of being sane.

"Will they be able to see the sparks when we can barely see a couple of feet ahead of ourselves?" Raj pointed out dubiously.

  

No, Howell agreed darkly in his head. The real plan was that if things got hairy, he would stay, and Sandow should just get himself all the way out. Set off a caterwauling alarm, but mostly – survive. Howell wouldn’t be responsible for any keepers’ deaths on his watch. Nor would he forgive himself for a dragon’s.

But he wasn’t going to talk about worst cases, not now. Not when his sanity was barely hanging on by a thread, and he could feel his hands going numb through his gloves. “The snow’s gotta stop sometime,” he said stubbornly. “This ain’t normal.”

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Raj shivered as the blizzard kept going on around them. He could barely even hear what Howell was saying. "Suppose it is like this everywhere or just here?" It felt magical rather than completely natural. Especially with how the snow had not budged no matter what spell was thrown at it.

  

“Must be further out as well,” Howell said, having to raise his voice against the billowing of the snow. There had been a stranger stuck at the Smoke & Scale earlier. “Floo network’s gone haywire, I heard, even up in Hogsmeade.” And weather fronts didn’t usually hit Scotland and southern Wales in the same moment, as far as he knew – they usually drifted through, or settled slightly different in their hills. “Magical, you think?” Howell would have rather it’d been nature. He trusted nature more than magic, sometimes.

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"That is a large reach," Raj yelled back, getting a mouthful of snow for his trouble. He moved his balaclava more over his mouth and nose. "Has to be. Odd things always happen around this time of year." Usually it was all focused onto Hogsmeade though.

  

Howell was about to ask Sandow to repeat himself, because he hadn’t heard half of that last, but at that moment he must have walked over a patch of ice, frozen over rock, because he slipped, losing his balance in a place he had walked day and night for years, and tumbled backwards into the snowdrift, foot unnaturally twisted and backside smarting from the rocky ground underneath him. “For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled to himself, continuing with another string of expletives under his breath – to curse himself for his own stupidity.

He dragged himself up again with great effort and a grimace. He didn’t look down at his ankle-covered boot, half-buried in snow again. If he didn’t look, he could pretend it wasn’t broken. That was fine. They were so close to the caves now.

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Raj's eyes widened as Howell Howell tumbled backwards. He couldn't quite make out what was coming out of the others mouth but he imagined it was the type of words that would make a shy debutante blush. He worked to get closer to the other, the snow making it hard. "You did not get injured, did you?" Raj asked, trying to gauge what he could see. Hopefully it wasn't so bad that they would need to turn back because honestly, he had no idea where the keepers cottage was anymore.

  

“No,” Howell countered flatly, loud enough to be heard over the snow. “Keep moving, Sandow,” he added, through gritted teeth... only he hadn’t taken another step yet, because that would involve putting weight onto the probably-broken foot.

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Hmm. Howell Howell was being suspicious. Raj didn't think he was telling the truth. "You will be of no help to the dragon if you are also hurt," he pointed out as he kept moving, waiting to see what his boss would say now. Stubborn oaf.

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   Howell Howell