(Short story and probably one of many. The Ra'zac are around twelve years old here.)
Dirt scuffled, beaks clacked; the darkness was getting thicker. In dying sunlight of Helgrind's shadow webbed contours, two spiny creatures crouched. They seemed to blend in seamlessly with the landscape, black as pitch and motionless but for the susurrated words clattering free of their jaws.
"Brother, are you sssure that Mother and Father are busy tonight?" the voice was feminine—if only just—and anxious in the gloom.
"Most certainly, Glint," her cohort answered with dim frustration. "You know, you fret far too much than is good for a young Ra'zac."
She kicked out at him in mock malice, the silver insignia on her cloak catching a wayward beam of watery light—the brief flash of illumination sputtered, and then disappeared into oblivion. "Tell me, when did you begin your metamorphosisss into my third parent?"
Upon her last syllable, the sun winked out of existence. An inky tide spilled over the rocky countryside, turning it into an unending acreage of concealed pitfalls and teetering rockslides. The siblings were not very much concerned with this transition though. Even as they gazed down upon their territory, the oculars in their attuned skulls were flickering to life. They would have any trouble navigating this spiteful terrain tonight, no sir.
The abhorrent illumination of daytime had finally been extinguished; it was time to move.
As they rose to creep down from their perch, Guile seemed to mull over Glint's question with absurd gravity. Just as his Hatchmate was fully prepared to strike him down out of sheer irritation, he gave a long sigh and threw up his hands in defeat. "My ascension into guardianship is likely a result of your painfully obvious immaturity." before she could object, he went on.
The Ra'zac draped a shelled arm around her shoulders and flung the other one skyward, as if consumed by his early night sermon. "You've alwaysss needed sssomeone who could break the rulesss with you, but also keep you sssafe. Can you think of a time when your devastatingly handsome brother hasss not come to your aid or provided sssufficient entertainment?"
"Devastatingly handsome, huh?" she shucked his touch off easily, causing him to stumble. "Galbatorix be praised, have you ever looked in a mirror?"
The male regained his balance with little more than a twist of his gait. "Why yesss, I actually have! Its name is Danger Glint. She'sss my identical twin, in cassse you've forgotten."
With that, she gave a low growl of anger and moved to claw him. Faced with the sudden attack, her comrade flinched and began to crouch in preparation for a brawl. His measures were in vain though, for after a moment's hesitation, she lowered her hand and frowned off into the distance. "Was that supposed to be a compliment or another one of your corny jokes?"
"Why not both?"
Glint merely grunted, her mood still simmering as always.
After a moment of mutual expectancy, the pair seemed to opt out of conversation entirely. Words drained from their throats and more attention was paid to the way they leapt and scrambled over the tricky ground. More than once they had to help each other across a particularly treacherous pit of sand or jutting crop of granite, working more as one being than two to traverse each obstacle.
Nearly thirty minutes of pulling, pushing, and dragging one another passed before earth began to get flatter. Dras Leona's sticky auburn glow clotted a thick, inflammatory line of torch fire upon the horizon ahead. They were getting closer to the intended target.
"Are we keeping ssscore tonight?" Glint broke the silence of their dual dirt trudging, glancing over at her placid company with interest.
"Only if you want to."
"I guesss not; let'sss just have fun thisss time." She tilted her head, beak jutting in an alarmingly pouty manner. "We alwaysss end up fighting at the end of the game whenever we tally up."
Guile only tsked, grabbing her hand and lacing his fingers through hers. "You've been acting so ssspoiled these past few eventidesss! Mother would lash you for sssuch bratty behavior."
"You gonna go whining to her and tattle on me?"
"Of courssse not." He broke into a run, dragging the smaller Ra'zac after him and toward the city limits. "What would I tell the King and hisss advisersss when you don't show up for your training? Uhh, sssorry sssir but Danger Glint is currently detained on account of her ugly punishment wounds."
The female did little but chuckle darkly, kicking up sand as she was towed toward the back of a dilapidated hut. The dingy yellow mud of its daubed surface flaked under her touch as she crouched down beside it; she leaned up against Guile's back, craning to see into one of the many ratways that ran through the town. "I want to go north thisss time."
"Do as you please, nothing shall change the fact that I will rein sssupreme."
"Hatchmate," she whined, bringing a fist down on his shoulder. "I sssaid no ssscore keeping!"
He turned and patted her head in a frustratingly gentle manner. "Far too easy, sssister, far too easy to anger."
She veritably trembled with the scope of her frustration, but only fetched away from him and threw up her hood. "Fine, be that way; I'll sssee you in a while."
"Good luck!"
"You," she turned on a heel and pointed one sharp finger at him. "Shut it."
He watched with amusement as she grumbled and melted away into the shadows, drawing his own cowl and scarf over his head.
Only when Glint's scent was no more than a faint thing to be put at the back of his mind did he creep out from around the shack and survey his rout with a glimmering, hidden gaze. This particular pathway was well beaten by tiny pads, both human and rodent. Many nights had brought him child flesh if he was patient, but this time he'd come to Dras Leona for a different reason.
Far off, a dog barked and Guile grinned.
Digging the toes of his boots into the ground, he set off at a low and brisk trot. The night was warm and the fetid smell of the city was heavy in the air. The Ra'zac sniffed the decaying breeze pensively from time to time, rooting out the scent of canine from all the garbage and offal. Latching onto the odor of an old hound, he followed it with diligent tolerance through the twists and turns of the various back alleys. It wasn't long before a sandy creature emerged in his line of sight, rooting forlornly through a warped wooden bucket of refuse.
The creature's flanks were ratty, spine jutting, and ribs a cascade of protruding bars. Its back legs couldn't even support the extra weight when Guile leapt upon it from his little corner, digging in with his claws and beak. Giving a bray of shock and pain, the elderly mutt turned to sink his teeth into the Ra'zac's shoulder only to break several off upon the hard carapace beneath.
The male tasted death and despair upon his barbed tongue as he ravaged up his prey's side, turning the soft gut inside out with his spurred heels and dragging swollen lines of laceration down its shoulders. He made it last, he made it stretch out into the wicked dark depths where blood wasn't just liquid but a drug, charging up his vision with crimson.
The dog was dead for a long while before the narcotic effect of the kill wore off of Guile. With a satisfied snort, he pulled himself away from the sloppy puddle of entrails and fur. Of course he wouldn't bother taking so much as a single bite from the pool; dog flesh was downright nasty.
Somewhere off in the distance, a chorus of barks, whines, and unearthly shrieks issued. It was easy to discern the fact that Glint must have gotten into a full out murder match against one of the many packs that roamed the city.
Racing toward that god awful racket made the Ra'zac's head light, heart hammer. There were few things that could beat hound hunting with his devil of a sister. He only hoped that he could reach her in time to nab a few for himself.