Sorry for taking a while with getting this one out. I've been relatively busy with school and I also had trouble naming some of the characters here. If anyone has any name suggestions I'd love to here them. Don't hesitate to give me names that could be common to made-up, I need every kind for the future. Thanks and please review.

Chapter 4

Two Years Later…

I looked at my two siblings and sighed, they were hopeless in their training, any plane could see that. Blitz shook his head as we watched them tussle pointlessly over each other. I looked at Blitz in a sort of 'I'm so sorry you have to deal with this' look. The corners of his mouth started to turn up in a bit of a smile, "You were just as bad."

I turned to Finbar and Azarias with a smile, "You two have to open your jaws more. A bigger bite is a deadlier bite."

Finbar gave a sharp toothed smile up at me. Regan, sitting bored behind me, rolled his eyes. Father came up to us from behind. "I know how much you love this," he said sarcastically, "so I'll let you go on a hunt." We gave him pained looks as our own hunger was almost unbearable. The pack had not eaten well for two months now and our sister, Kataleen, was too weak to train. Father gave us a disappointed look, "Look, we need you to do this." There was a tired twang to his voice that made him sound ill, "There isn't enough food to go around."

I found that it was hard to think about the pack as my hunger kept gnawing at my tank. Regan didn't look any better off. He looked at me with a sort of panting, ragged, breath. The pack couldn't go on for much longer like this. Twolegs were a threat more than ever, showing up around every corner, every tree. Patrols were being sent out less and less and when patrols failed, hunts failed. Deer and cow were hard to come by. The trees below us seemed a maze, a lifeless sea of green, the sky a world of endless blue. We turned slightly to the left to see a few strong looking deer, their tails high and ears pricked for danger. Regan flicked his rudder, wobbling in the air, for me to move in closer. This would be a quick hunt if everything ran smoothly. I lowered myself until every leaf on every tree was visible. I looked up to see Regan flying high above me, a speck of silver and red in the sky.

I startled the deer into running to Regan, who picked them off one by one. When every deer was dead we set our tires down heavily in a field. Regan panted but smiled with eyes bright at our accomplishment. "Roven," he said, "Do you think it would be a crime to eat now. We can't hunt any longer on empty tanks."

"I…" I couldn't argue with him as my tank growled its complaints, "I suppose not." Regan dug his teeth into a deer and I joined him. The warm blood trickled down my throat, soothing it tremendously but I instantly felt guilty. I had disobeyed one of the first rules I'd been taught: the pack comes first, no matter what it requires, hunger, your life, anything. I forced the thought away and finished the deer as quickly as possible. I was about to gather the others to bring back to camp when I heard a snap. It sounded more like metal clicking into place or the sound a plane's flaps when one slammed them down suddenly.

I immediately looked up at the sky for an answer, searching for a streak of silver in the painted blue. I spotted none so I turned my head to Regan. His eyes were fixed on a different part of the forest where an oak stood. I shivered as I took a deep breath to smell the air. My wings tightened when the unmistakable scent of twolegs overwhelmed me. Another click ensued and a ragged twoleg stepped out, the fur atop his head a dark brown like that of a grizzly. He carried with him a long stick, a weapon. This creature pointed it threateningly at us, waving it back and forth like a snake focused on his prey, ready and waiting to strike. He spoke one word and a dark shadowy plane like figure rolled out of the forest. The plane's scent was hidden by the reek of the twoleg but so familiar, too familiar. "You two will be out of my way by the time this day ends," a voice snarled from behind the trees. A single shot sent Regan collapsing to the ground, oil streaking down his neck in a black river. I took off as fast as I possibly could, more shots ensuing. I rolled and dodged them as best as I could. Only one hit me on my right elevator. I shrieked but continued on, trying to get away as fast as possible.

I turned back to look to see if anyone was pursing me. No one was. Only Regan, whose eyes were swirling with terrible pain, was following, leaving a streak of black oil in his flight path. I decreased my speed considerably so that I was flying alongside him. He looked at me with concern, "Are you okay?"

I looked back at my tail. A small hole punctured just above my elevator and oil was leaking out from it. It stung but I could think it was nothing compared to Regan's wound. I nodded a bit, "I'm fine, I'll live but you, you are injured badly, Regan. You need to get back to camp as fast as possible."

Regan grimaced, "I'm fine." I decided arguing was pointless so I turned my attention to getting back to camp. I spotted it just as my tail began to cramp up and lock. Perfect timing, I thought as my tail complained as I lowered my nose to land. Regan and I landed heavily and as for my landing, not the most gracefully. Conleth was out carrying a deer in his jaws. He looked genuinely concerned when he looked at us. Regan gave a look of disgust at the deputy as he gawped at his wound.

"What happened?" the plane asked, shock and fear evident in his voice.

"We ran into a twoleg," I explained, "He shot us with his stick."

Conleth left at the word 'twoleg' to tell Father. I went to follow but Regan only stood gasping in the entryway. I turned to him, concerned for his health. He glanced gratefully at me as I tried to support him as he rolled forward. "Thanks," but that one word was more a ragged, exhale of breath than a sound. I tried to hurry him into the infirmary. Elsayah was there to greet us, her face twisting into a distorted look of concern, disgust and pity as we came in. She hurried over to the opposite side to gather a few deer and cow pelts and stuff them in a corner for Regan to lie upon. He collapsed thankfully onto the soft fur and skin. Elsayah twisted a deer hide after dipping it in the pool and placed it over his neck, washing off the oil that had gathered and dribbled down his side. Regan inhaled sharply but Elsayah didn't give any word to what she was doing. Concern and dread were in her eyes as she worked. A few times she shooed me away to fetch other healers. I didn't like where this was going as three more planes gathered into the infirmary.

I was driving briskly down one of the tunnels leading to the royal family's dens when I heard both Kadesh's and Mother's voices raised and yelling at each other. Conleth's voice boomed through the walls as well. It didn't take much to hear them as they argued over what the pack should do next. "First prey, now members!" Father growled menacingly to no one in particular. Conleth gave an angry roar of agreement. "Those twolegs must be stopped at all costs."

Kadesh's voice, softer than the two male planes', cut through the yelling like a small but deadly blade. "We'll fight if they come closer but not yet. Let's not make rash decisions concerning the twolegs and their weapons."

Just then Blitz rolled past me, eyes troubled and jaws clenched. He hardly acknowledged that I was there and he flew past me and into the room where the argument of the royals was taking place. I know not what Blitz said but whatever it was made everyone go quiet. A sort of still shock rippled in the air at Blitz's news. Mother began to whimper then growl until Kadesh came to rub her wing over her comfortingly. I could hear her soft voice calming Mother down. Blitz brushed past me once more, this time there were slight tears in his eyes. I followed him, he didn't respond. "Blitz, what happened?"

Blitz turned with his teeth bared, "The twolegs took Feyra! They took her pack! All that's left of 'em is an empty camp," he shrunk until he looked like a hatchling about to cry, "They're gone, Feyra's gone." He took a breath, "And yer brother, he's hurt badly." Blitz didn't meet my eyes as he said his next sentence, "Regan might die."

Something in me snapped, he couldn't be dying, he just couldn't. There was no way that my own brother would leave me alone. I pushed past Blitz and headed to the infirmary where Regan lay. What met my eyes was terribly shocking to me. Regan, looking ready for anything this morning, now lay defeated and weak from the wound in his neck. The light blue healer who had cured our wounds after our first hunt came up to us, eyes round. "His neck is still bleeding and we can't stop it. He's lost so much oil… too much oil," her eyes went distant for a moment, "Your brother actually took on several shots, all in the neck. Any one of them under a normal circumstance could be fatal but all together… there's little hope left."

I rolled slowly up to Regan. He was asleep and unconscious. A thick deer hide was wrapped around his neck and over part of his nose, his breathing was labored and raspy, and his entire body was slightly pale, showing the loss of oil. I pressed my nose to his, fear for him welling inside my tank, disbelief and denial in my head. The pack had a taken a hard blow today. To my surprise, Regan stirred, his wings shuddering as he raised his head slightly to look at me. "Roven? What happened, did you teach that twoleg a lesson he'll never forget?" He almost chuckled to himself, "I took quite a few blows today haven't I? I can feel it. How bad is it?"

"Bad," I said, unwilling to say more.

Regan looked me down, his gaze resting on my injured tail. I'd almost forgotten about it in all the chaos. "You never got your tail checked out did you?"

"No," I answered numbly.

Regan looked concerned, "What happened that got you so worked up?" I couldn't meet his eyes. Regan gave me a confused look, "It's okay. You can tell me. I'm your brother."

"No, it's nothing," I lied. "I'm just worked up because you're hurt."

Regan laughed weakly, "Then you really are worked up over nothing."

I couldn't keep the truth away from him as he looked up at me with his brilliant blue eyes. I fumbled over my next words, "Okay, you said I could tell you anything," Regan nodded, "and there's something I do need to tell you. You are… you are… you're going to… maybe… die."

I watched my brother's expression turn from that of horror to that of denial, "I'm fine, you know that. Look at me, Roven," he fumed, "I won't give up my life like Lockjaw did. I'll fight my own body if I have to, I'll face Greatwings if I have to." His voice was heavy with seriousness. Something about his dead tone made me shiver.

"I hope you're right," I said, "because I can't go on without you."

Just then a nurse shooed me away, "He needs rest and you need to get that tail wrapped up." I didn't protest as she called over Elsayah to have my tail checked. Elsayah chewed some leaves to a pulp and placed them on my tail. They soothed the stinging, scratching, gravel like pain as she grabbed a cow hide and wrapped it around my tail. She then told me not to fly for the next day and shoved me off. I could see fear in her eyes, a fear that made dread creep up my back. These were dark times.

I reached my den to see Mother crouching in her corner, her windscreen glossy. She looked defeated. I rolled up to her, slipping my nose over hers. She welcomed the hug gladly. "Your sister is very ill," she whimpered, "and Regan is injured. Do you know how he is?"

I lifted my head to look Mother in the eye, "You haven't seen him?"

She shook her head, "How could I? Twolegs are all over the place, riding in cars with more weapons and hiding in the forest, waiting for their chance to strike."

I shuttered at the news. "Regan says he'll be fine. He just needs rest." Mother gave me a look that said she didn't believe me but cast it aside. She huddled up to me that night before Father came in, his giant form weak and feeble from lack of prey and the stress grating on his spirit. He was no longer fit to be leader but these days no plane would be.

I visited Regan a day later and had my tail redressed as well. Regan looked better, the color had returned to his markings, but he sounded worse; his breathing was ragged, scratchy, and shallow and his voice was all but gone. He assured me he'd be fine and that this was only a side effect of the medicine the healers had given him. Whitefern also told me the same, assuring me he'd be fine. I wanted to believe it, I wanted to know that was the case but I couldn't. I'd seen the look of fear beyond Whitefern's eyes, I also knew that Regan was, I hate to say, a hard headed and stubborn plane at certain times, anyone who's anyone that met him knew that.

A week passed and Regan was still holding up to his injuries. The red, blue, and silver plane began to recover. His wound had closed and was beginning to heal. It was a great day when Whitefern and Elsayah both assured me that he'd be fine. I breathed a prayer of thanks to Greatwings that he was going to make it.

Meanwhile Regan's recovery, the pack had taken terrible blows from the twolegs. A total of four planes had been taken, each seeming to disappear off the face of the earth. As for our prey we had very little. The unfortunates of our pack were growing thin, several of the elders were very ill as well. Father had gone so far as to decree that every plane in the pack shall get an even and fair portion of prey. No plane goes unfed and no plane goes without at least a small ration of prey. There was no longer a pecking order to the way we ate. If anyone were to be caught eating more prey than another they'd have to go without food for a day. This was how far we had to go.

Kataleen was only growing weaker as the days went by until she was nothing but a shadow, an almost lifeless shadow. She was clinging to life each minute. Every day we thought she was going to die, every day waiting for her to shudder as she took her last breath, wishing for her to suffer no longer. Finally that day came. Every one of us was glad for her as her suffering had ended. The only ceremony we had for her was a quick prayer of thanks and sadness to Greatwings for her death. It was terrible for everyone.

Every day brought a new challenge to face: twolegs, lack of prey, other packs trespassing to find prey. We all were working overtime to feed the pack. Father was beginning to lose hope as was the rest of the pack. We came to know and call this period the hunger days.

Notes:

If anyone forgot Whitefern is a healer about two years younger than Roven and Regan. Planes mature, like animals, in a shorter time although often live longer due to the fact they were originally man made.

I realize that I'm introducing a lot of characters at once but some of them will play a larger role later on.