The humans didn't move for a long time.
Eventually, one of them stepped forward and approached me cautiously, every step like a scared animal that would take off at any sign of danger. He raised one hand, palm outward, a gesture that is, apparently, universal for greeting no matter the world. He started speaking in a language similar to Finnish from my old world and a dash of Sámi.
I didn't understand a single word. The only reason I even recognized it as Finnish is because I had taken a vacation to Finland a long time ago, decades now. While the Sámi was due to taking one of their reindeer rides for tourists.
Unable to answer, I rose slowly and turned my head towards the man. Now with a chance to observe them more closely I could see the long dark hair tucked under the hood with full beards for the older men among them, if I had to describe them to an earthling I would say they are similar to the Inuit.
How to communicate…
Watching the human grow more and more talkative as time went by, probably due to not being barbecued yet, I settled on trying universal gestures. Obvious if you think about it.
First I raised my claw, which shut the man up immediately as he jumped back in fright. Then I pointed at him before also gesturing to the other people behind him in a circular motion. Finally, I opened my claws and waved "come on" while half turning towards the exit.
The man was confused at first, but then one of the women shouted something to him and his eyes lit up. Turning back to me he nodded his head vigorously before making his way back to the group.
Fast hands gathered bundles and bodies started shifting as the strong picked up children and the elderly moved forward. The sleds were pulled collectively and the group of people, once ready, quieted down while staring at me. The gazes of people who had put blind trust in a total unknown.
Snorting at their looks, I turned and starting walking forward. Little known fact about dragons, we can walk on all four but we are not really built to do it for a long time.
This became very evident as we crossed the harsh terrain towards my basin. My occasional stumbling would stir murmurs from the gaggle, but I persisted, more out of pride than actual wish to work hard.
The slope into the basin gave us slight pause as it was too steep for the sleds to be safely brought down. The ridge narrowed into a cut of stone where snow gathered unevenly, hard-packed in some places and hollow in others.
Behind me I could hear the soft scrape of wood and the short, sharp commands the man barked to keep the group moving. As exhausted as I was, they had been on the run for a while, from what I could tell, and then had to also make this trek.
Turning back to them I started gesturing back and forth until I conveyed that I would lower the sleds and the elderly myself. They seemed to appreciate that if their happy murmuring and smiles were any indication.
I crouched low and extended my claws carefully towards the nearest sled. The men hesitated for a second, overcoming the instinctual fear, before lifting the front runners and sliding it onto the front of my claw. The weight was not much compared to my size, but the balance was awkward especially since the twist to holding my claws out like this was not natural and caused intense pain in my wing joint.
Wood and bone creaked as I slowly lifted it and turned, easing my way down the slope. The snow shifted under my weight, and I had to use my tail to grip rocks in order to keep from sliding too quickly. Step by step, I lowered it until I reached the bottom and placed it down on a flat rock near a vent.
The process took the rest of the day and the final human, the leader, didn't gather at the bottom until the sun was well gone. The elderly were heavier than I expected, wrapped tightly in layers of fur and hide.
One old woman clutched a carved bone charm to her chest as I lowered her, eyes never leaving my face, until I set her down gently onto stable ground. As I pulled away, she reached out a hand as if to touch my claw, then thought better of it and withdrew.
The strong men spread out first, checking the basin walls and scanning the ridges, while the women cleared snow from the ground near the vents, exposing dark stone beneath. Children were guided toward the warmest patches, hands held close to the rising steam.
Tools came out of bundles, poles were planted into cracks, and hides were stretched then secured with practiced motions. This was not their first relocation, I could see.
One of the men approached a vent and held his hands above it, fingers flexing in disbelief at the steady heat. He shouted excitedly to the others and many people shouted back in excitement, all their heads then turned towards me.
I did not react as I moved toward my storage cave, I was feeling very hungry and I wanted to show them where I kept the food.
Behind me the camp began to take shape as they worked quietly, with little shouting or wasted movement. A trench was dug near one vent to trap excess water if I had to guess and a shallow pit was carved to hold a small fire.
The food I brought back was received thankfully and then portioned carefully between them. The young got the most, followed by the hunters, then the women, and finally the elderly.
The man who had first spoken to me approached me while they ate, once everyone had settled down, stopping several paces away. He gestured broadly to the basin, tracing a vague line in the air as if indicating the direction, they came from, then placed his hand flat against his chest and bowed slightly.
I tilted my head.
He repeated the motion and then pointed towards the southeast, his face tightening as he spoke. He mimed something chasing and then cut down with his arm imitating a sword slash. Orcs.
I gave a low rumble in my chest and turned my head to the southeast. He followed my gaze and nodded. We understood each other well enough.
As night blanketed the basin, small fires were lit near the vents as wisps of smoke rose with the updraft. The people gathered around and I watched as one of the elders started telling a story with intense words and grand gestures.
They were not prey. Not soldiers. Just people trying to survive.
The basin no longer felt empty.
A child edged closer to my perch and crouched, studying my claws as they lay against the stone. Slowly, she reached out to feel them while glancing at my head nervously. I kept facing the fire pretending not to see her silly antics.
A sharp hiss interrupted her fun as a woman, glancing at me nervously, gestured for her to come back. As the girl unwillingly returned, I shifted to a more comfortable position for sleep.
As the night carried on, the fires started dying out and the majority started falling asleep in their tents and bedrolls. A few men stayed awake, guarding the only entrance into the basin.
My eyelids grew heavy and the world started to drift into a soft blur. I felt at peace. I felt at home.