Wu: *recruits literal children, many of them with painful pasts, to battle murderous evil forces and their own family members*

Kids: *are now a trainwreck*

Wu: *surprised Pikachu face*


At dawn the next morning, Faith was still staring out the window. Her eyes were kept open by sheer force of will, but the connection between her retina and her brain had gone pretty sluggish. She stared for a full five seconds at the approaching smudge in the distance before she realized something was happening.

She fumbled for her spyglass, forcing herself to look even as she dreaded what she'd see. Everything inside her went tense and hard. Dragons. All of them. Five massive forms, and Firstbourne pacing in front, leading them towards the village.

They were all about to die.

Faith lowered the spyglass, gripping the windowsill to steady herself. She couldn't afford to panic. There was no conceivable reason why the full complement of dragons would peacefully approach their village—or at least, she couldn't think of any. But maybe there was something she hadn't thought of? After all, if they were going to attack, why would they wait for daylight? Why would they approach by ground? Why would they come so slowly, in plain sight?

Iron Baron would have shot first and asked questions later. Faith decided to gamble on the chance, even the tiniest chance, that the dragons weren't coming to rip them all to shreds. However remote that chance might seem. However absurd. They had promised Wu they would not be the first to attack.

And besides, she thought, with a bark of despairing laughter. If the dragons planned to kill them, shooting first would do nothing to save their lives. Maybe buy them an extra five minutes, tops.

The dragons were closer now. The other villagers must be noticing them now, even without spyglasses. Time to start leading.

Taking a deep breath, Faith stepped outside.

"Hunters!" she bellowed.

The Hunters assembled like they'd all been hiding just around the corner, waiting for her to call. Jet Jack and Chew Toy had gotten the warning out: everyone was carrying weapons. Gaunt, grim faces and sleepless eyes met Faith's gaze everywhere she turned. She knew they must have already hidden all their children away somewhere—anywhere they thought they might survive.

For a moment Faith scanned the massed faces, all waiting for her word. Patiently. Trustingly. They trusted her. Jet Jack was in front, all her baiting and snarking put aside, standing like she was ready to follow anywhere.

Faith sucked in yet another breath.

"We'll meet them outside the village wall!" she shouted, making sure everyone could hear. "I cannot stress enough the importance of NOT firing the first shot. We are—"

An angry babble rose from the crowd.

"Not defend ourselves?!"

"What next, should we stand still and let them broil us?"

"March out and throw ourselves into their jaws?!"

The shouts bordered on the hysterical. The Hunters were furious with the lust to live—to at least feel like they'd fought to live. Faith's own resolve faltered; she was a warrior herself. She set her teeth and raised her voice again.

"We defend ourselves! But only if they attack first."

"Why wait?!"

"Because we don't know they're coming to fight!" barked Faith. She struggled to remain the unshakable leader. She had to look like she was in control, like she deserved their trust.

"She's right," cut in Jet Jack. "Look, they're not charging, they're plodding. If they wanted to attack, they would already be in here ripping the roofs off our homes! You want to talk about throwing yourself into dragons' jaws? How about rushing out to anger dragons who might be coming here peacefully?"

A thousand crimson curses, Jet Jack. Every sassy comment, every thinly-veiled insult, every time Faith had wanted to pull out her own hair or wring Jet Jack's neck—all forgiven, right in this moment.

The Hunters mumbled uneasily, exchanging glances.

"Again!" said Faith. "I'm not saying we lie down and take it. I'm only saying we wait for them to start it. Once they attack, I will be first in line to carve a second sword out of Firstbourne's bones!"

Muffled cheers, snarls of appreciation. Energy pulsed through the Hunters as they regained shreds of desperate hope—hope they would live to see tomorrow. Empty, perhaps, but necessary in this moment.

Faith led them silently to the outskirts of the town. She had no idea if the Hunters would listen to her. Did they trust her enough to rein in their bloodlust and panicked battle frenzy? Would they wait for the dragons to attack first?

The dragons were already nearby. Equally silent, the reptilian phalanx stopped, facing the Hunters.

The two sides stared at each other, motionless. Breaths on both sides were measured, deliberate. Heads arched back. Eyes roved over the enemy. Minds flew back over decades of hating each other, maiming each other, killing each other, eating each other.

A passing breeze blew through the Hunters' spears, sounding like a muffled scream of tension.

Firstbourne's own resolve was faltering, like Faith's before her. She looked over these silent figures and felt nothing but white-hot contempt clawing up from her innards. And as she looked over their hearts, she saw nothing but waves of burning red, crackles of magenta—hate, hate, fear, hate, down to the last one of them. And into this seething mass of hatred she was supposed to deliver her baby?

She felt little Energy quiver against her tongue. Feeble, barely moving. Dying. She was going to die either way, wasn't she? But to witness her being ripped to pieces at the hands of these monsters . . .

. . . If she didn't move now, she never would. Even as her heart broke, she lowered her head slowly, deliberately, so it wouldn't be taken as a threat. She coughed Energy up onto the sand.

The Hunters, hardened savages though they were, reacted much as the ninja had.

"What is THAT?!" yelped Daddy No-Legs.

"Dragons eat their young?!"

"Is it dead?!"

Firstbourne stood crouched over her baby, tensed to protect her if need be. Her eyes flicked wildly from Hunter to Hunter, waiting for someone to strike.

Nobody did. They all stood frozen in shock, staring at the limp, slimy tangle of limbs. Energy twitched. Weakly she tried to lift her head.

"It's alive . . . " whispered Jet Jack.

Firstbourne's rage had drained away, leaving only exhaustion. Eyes glazed with shame and desperation, she nudged Energy towards the Hunters, whining—oh god, she was whining, keening like a hatchling, pleading for their help.

"Does she want us to take it?" asked Chew Toy, in the quietest voice Faith had ever heard him use.

"What is she doing?" said No-Legs.

All eyes were on Faith again. She took in the bowed form in front of her.

"I think her baby is sick," she said slowly. "And I think she is asking us for help."

She began to remove her weapons—also deliberately, making it clear she wasn't attacking.

"Are you sure about this?" Jet Jack's voice was strained. "It could be a trap. Maybe she wants you to come close so she can—"

"Then you'll succeed me," said Faith tartly. "You know what to do."

Jet Jack froze.

"I-I—"

Faith lowered the last of her weapons to the sand. Spreading her hands placatingly, she began to walk slowly towards Firstbourne and her baby. The Hunters watched, motionless, breathless. Behind Firstbourne the younger dragons shifted, twitched, lowered their heads in preparation in case they had to strike. Wind had her head down by her foreclaws, breathing heavily. It was a wonder she'd gotten this close in the first place.

Faith reached the hatchling. She held out her hands to Firstbourne, showing her flat palms. Firstbourne only looked at her silently.

Not taking her eyes off the dragon mother, Faith crouched down. Gingerly, hesitantly, she moved one hand to rest on the hatchling's back. Firstbourne still didn't move; only watched her closely.

Slightly reassured, Faith moved on to stroking the baby's back, marveling at the sleek scales. And at the unreal strangeness of it all—she had expected to fight to the death, and instead here she was, petting a hatchling. It was so small, so still. So helpless.

She began to carefully inspect the baby, always mindful of Firstbourne's eyes trained on her. There were certainly no injuries. No visible malformations. She had no idea how warm a dragon was supposed to be—could they even have fevers?

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking up to Firstbourne again. Firstbourne tilted her head and shook it, at a loss. Faith sighed in concession and pushed herself to her feet. Trying to ignore the fact that she was turning her back on a dragon, she looked to her Hunters. The choice needed to rest with them.

"She's come to us for help," she called. "What do you say? Do we help her?"

She expected an immediate negative response—just a few minutes ago these people had been raging about not firing the first shot. The Hunters were silent, however, contemplating.

"It's Christmas," said Chew Toy, out of nowhere.

"That is the kind of thing you're supposed to do for Christmas, isn't it?" said No-Legs slowly.

Murmurs from the other Hunters. Gradually they grew into a rumble of assent. One by one Hunters began to shed their weapons and come forward, gathering around the baby dragon. Firstbourne watched them all, still tense, but dizzy with disbelief. They were helping. They were going to try.

"We should start by keeping her warm," called Faith. "This cold can't be good for an infant. Tsippa, Arkade, you're in charge of the firewood. Firstbourne, with your permission, we're going to take the baby into the village. We have a fire pit there."

Firstbourne made no objection as Faith gathered Energy up into her arms, but it can't be said her mind was at ease. As she padded after the group of Hunters, she regained the presence of mind to use her heart-vision again.

She had to look three times before she believed it. The red had faded out. And never had she seen colors so noble in a Hunter's heart.


The Hunters built a roaring fire and placed Energy next to it, wrapped up in blankets. The baby squirmed, trying to scooch closer to the flames. The Hunters kept trying to figure out what was wrong, while Firstbourne twisted in despair at her muteness. For a moment she almost wished she had brought Wu to explain about the healing plant. What if the Hunters didn't figure it out on their own?

To her relief, however, Faith eventually settled back on her heels and took up discussion with Tsippa, the closest they had to a healer. She immediately advised them to use Healing Plant.

Which was its actual name, by the way. The Hunters didn't believe in giving things mysterious frilly names. They had Healing Plant, Sleeping Plant, Energy Plant, Poison Plant 1, Poison Plant 2, Poison Plant 3 . . . The guy who named Purple Moonruffle had been eating it.

At any rate. The Hunters dug into their stores without hesitation, pulling out all the Healing Plant they could find. Faith did hesitate a little, looking over the handfuls of dried leaves. This was a big risk—this plant had saved countless lives before. Supposing someone got injured before they could gather more?

Worse yet, it turned out there wasn't enough. Arkade, the math whiz, hefted Energy, estimated her weight, and calculated they would need twice as much Healing Plant in order to do any good.

"Could we even find any more growing, in this cold?" said Jet Jack.

"We won't know until we search," said Faith, standing up. "Can somebody stay to make sure the baby doesn't roll into the fire? The rest of us, split up and start searching."

Muzzle raised his hand, burbling.

"Yeah, he's good with kids," said Daddy No-Legs. "Let him stay."

Faith couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, but eventually she nodded. As the others geared up for an expedition, Muzzle plopped down next to the baby dragon and began to stroke her through the blankets, gabbling what might have been baby talk. Energy turned her head to watch him, her dull eyes brightening in curiosity.

Firstbourne stayed behind to watch her baby, but the other dragons followed the Hunters. Faith couldn't help eyeing the procession as they went. Never thought she'd see the day when dragons and her Hunters walked peacefully side-by-side.

Or far in the back, in some cases. Wind, Fire, and Earth kept a very respectful distance. Faith fought back a pang of guilt.


"That's it all right." Jet Jack lowered her spyglass, sighing. "Worst. Possible. Place."

It really was. They had finally found a large patch of Healing Plant, which liked to grow in shallow snatches of soil among rocks. However, the plant was growing in a crevice high up in a cliff wall. Worse yet, the cliff was part of the Howling Valley—a narrow corridor of stone where the wind gusts reached hundreds of miles an hour. Worse and worse yet, the winds got stronger higher up—exactly where the plant was growing.

"All right," said Faith. "The rest of you, keep searching, maybe there's another patch somewhere easier to reach. Meanwhile we'll see about getting this one."

Humans and dragons alike struggled their way into the Howling Valley, squinting up to the crevice where the plant grew. The dragons exchanged terse roars and bumped their noses together oddly, twisting their necks.

"They're testing who has the smallest snout," said Arkade above the wind.

They had to go back and forth a bit; Wind and Fire refused to come into the valley and come so close to the humans. Earth, the former Slab, at least approached, but he panted visibly and rolled his red eyes in agitation when anyone came too near. The Hunters tried not to look his way.

In the end Lightning won the small-snout contest. Boosting off the ground, he nearly flipped over backwards as the full force of the wind hit him. Sticking his head forward doggedly, he writhed his way upwards, his body contorting as if he were a massive fish swimming upstream.

He fought his way up to the crack in the cliff face, scrabbling for purchase with his claws. No matter how much he twisted his head and banged his snout against the rocks, the watchers below saw he couldn't get any of the plants. At last he gave up, defeated, and let the wind carry him off.

He returned, roaring morosely. The dragons looked to the Hunters expectantly.

"So, I guess one of us will have to climb up," said Jet Jack.

Faith grunted in assent. She looked around at her posse. Arkade with his heavy, unwieldy armor. Chew Toy vehemently uncoordinated. Jet Jack with her giant wind-catching wings. Daddy No-Legs . . . no.

And after all, she was the leader.

"I'll go," she said. "Give me a bag for the plants."

The others looked at her uncertainly, although clearly they all realized they couldn't make it themselves. Jet Jack popped off her visor and held it out to Faith.

"Take it, Chief. It'll keep the sand from blowing into your eyes."

Faith nodded her thanks, slipping the visor on. The bleak white morning became nighttime as the thin metal gave an odd dark sheen to her surroundings.

With a rolled-up burlap sack in her belt, she slowly began the climb. The stone was rough and cold under her fingers; the wind tore at her clothes, buffeting her until it felt like she was dealing with two gravities instead of one. Her left arm ended up doing most of the work, both holding her up and holding her against the wind. She was careful to only move one foot at a time, knowing that her toes lodged in the cliff face were the only thing keeping her from being blown diagonal and dragged away. Thank goodness for Jet Jack's visor; she could feel the windborne sand eating away at her face.

She started to feel tired, but she didn't dare stop to check her progress. It felt like she'd been climbing forever, but suppose she was only a few feet up? Better to just keep climbing till she reached the crevice.

The wind grew stronger. A particularly violent gust sprang up, and Faith hugged the cliff face, digging her fingers desperately into her current handholds.

Then the rock under her left hand broke away. She grabbed desperately for another hold, but it was too late—the entire cliff face crumbled out from underneath her, and suddenly there was nothing to hold, and—

Oh boy. She definitely wasn't just a few feet up.

"Faith!" Jet Jack was too late to catch her, but she was already there as the rubble was settling, sliding to her knees. The other Hunters also scrambled to gather around their leader, who was curled on her side amongst the rocks, twitching.

"Are you all right? What's broken? Is your head okay? Say something!"

Faith eventually heaved herself up on one elbow and gave a ragged gasp, as if she'd emerged from underwater.

"'m fine," she managed, wheezing. "Breath—knocked out of me."

Her breathing steadied, and she gradually moved to sit upright. Everything hurt right now, but miraculously nothing seemed to be broken. Once she trusted herself to talk, she looked up to start discussing a new plan—then stopped, startled. What was everyone looking at her like that for?

Hold up a sec. Were they worried? For a second she'd thought they were judging her for taking the fall so hard, but . . they almost looked frightened. They were honestly concerned that she'd been injured. Like they cared about her, not even as a leader, maybe, but as a person. Even as a friend.

She had no freaking clue how to respond to that.

"What?" she said roughly, because she didn't know what else to say. "You thought that fall would finish me or something? No such luck, I'm hard to kill."

She stood up, shaking gravel from her clothes with unnecessary vigor to avoid the others' eyes. She felt a little bad about brushing them off like this, but good grief, this was so uncomfortable, she couldn't keep sitting here at the bottom of Howling Valley having feelings, they had a job to do—

—An impossible job, by the way. She turned to look up at the cliff face again. There was a large crumbled area halfway up now, and who knew if there would be more handholds or unstable rock up there.

"You can't be thinking of trying again," said No-Legs. "It's a death trap, next time you might end up much worse."

"Could we use dynamite?" asked Chew Toy, a little too hopefully.

"Maybe I could build some kind of climbing system," offered Arkade.

"We don't have that kind of time," said Faith impatiently. "The baby dragon needs those plants fast."

"You can't go up there again, it's crazy!"

"Send Chew Toy, he's durable."

"Hey! Why, you—"

"Stop!" interrupted Jet Jack. "Look, the wind!"

They all paused. Slowly it dawned on them that the air around them had gone strangely still, no longer ripping at their hair and clothes. Next they realized that only two feet away the wind was still raging; they were standing at the calm center of a howling tornado. And finally they noticed a mottled white dragon standing nearby, her head held high, wind curling through her whiskers.

"I think she's offering to keep the wind off you," said Arkade.

"Would you do that?" Faith started towards Wind. Immediately the dragon's head dropped, her lips pulling back in a primal snarl, and the wind began to hit everyone full-force again. Fire and Earth were instantly at Wind's side, hissing and snapping around at everyone they saw, draping their wings protectively over their sister.

Faith stood still, blinking in confusion.

"Okay, so she'll keep you alive," said Jet Jack wryly. "Just don't get too close."

Faith took in the dragon's defensive posture and realized she was afraid. She hadn't known a dragon could look that close to a panic attack. But her eyes were resolute, and she stood her ground. She had a baby sister to save.

"Good enough for me," said Faith. She put up her hands placatingly and stepped back. "Nobody get close to her while I'm up there, all right? Unless you're really hungry to climb up the social ladder."

The joke got some disapproving growls.

Faith stepped up to the cliff face again. A shadow suddenly loomed over her, and she looked up to see Ice on her hind legs, craning her neck and blowing a stream of freezing air. A layer of ice formed over the damaged part of the cliff, complete with handholds.

"Appreciate it," said Faith.

It was a long and difficult climb, especially with all the new aches from falling. At first Wind was able to control the air around Faith perfectly: it was deathly still, except for a stiff breeze helping to pin her to the cliff wall. As Faith climbed higher and the wind grew stronger, Wind's job became much harder. She struggled, panting, straining, as her siblings churned around her, rumbling encouragement. Faith began to feel a significant breeze tugging her sideways off the cliff again. Gritting her teeth, she climbed onwards.

Her hands stuck to to the handholds as she crossed the icy section. Grit began to chew away at her face again. Better yet, a cloud slid over the sun. To most people the bleak morning only seemed a little dimmer, but to Faith, wearing a visor and in the shadow of the cliff, the whole world seemed to go dark. How the heck did Jet Jack function in this thing? At night and everything!

Cursing under her breath, Faith stopped climbing. She couldn't risk it blind, but the sand was too intense to remove the visor. She would have to wait for the sun to come out again. She thought she heard a commotion down below . . . the others must be wondering why she'd stopped. She tried not to think about Wind down there, struggling to control her element, slowly wearing down and losing power. If she lost her grip on the wind right now . . .

Suddenly Faith's surroundings lit up in searing, flickering light. Starting, she peered over her shoulder. Lightning was hovering just behind her, his small wings beating madly in the full force of the wind, his entire body crackling with arcs of electricity. He was already panting from fighting the wind, but he tossed his head at her vehemently, urging her to clamber on.

She did. An eternity later, her fingers found the edge of the crevice where the blasted Healing Plant was growing. The wind was really tearing at her now—she hated to think what it would be like without help from a Wind dragon. Bracing one arm inside the tiny space, she fished out her sack, clenched it in her teeth, and began to shovel Healing Plant into it by the fistful. Her muscles screamed for a rest; she tried not to think about the journey back down.

Somehow she managed to clear out all the plant and tie the sack shut. She tried to figure out how to carry it so it wouldn't catch the wind. On her belt or in her teeth? It was heavier than she'd expected . . .

A hoarse roar sounded behind her. She turned again, and now there was Fire, flailing against the hurricane-force winds. Although he was decidedly the best-suited dragon for flying, he still looked like he would be dashed against the cliff face any minute now. He roared again, stretching out his neck towards Faith.

Gritting her teeth, Faith stretched out her arm in return, holding out the sack of Healing Plant. It brushed his muzzle, but he didn't take it. His roar sounded a little frustrated now as he struggled to draw closer. It finally dawned on Faith: he was offering to carry her down.

Her first reaction was "hell no." Fire had been her very first catch as Heavy Metal. She had personally driven his head into the ground and tightened a chain around his jaws. He'd been enslaved by the Hunters for years after that. He would absolutely dump her straight off onto the stone fifty feet below. Besides, who wanted to take chances clinging to a dragon in tornado-grade winds, with no chains? That was son-of-the-First-Spinjitzu-Master stuff.

Oh cor. Wu, that little wretch. What would he do in this situation?

Sighing, Faith resigned herself to her death. She knew she'd never make the climb back down. Time to do all that trust stuff the ninja made such a big deal about.

Somehow she got onto Fire's back without plummeting to her death. Somehow she managed to find enough knobs and scales to cling to. Somehow they made it safely down to the ground.

Fire landed sloppily, while the Hunters cheered. Faith slid off his back a little faster than chill, but he ignored her. Instead he roared urgently to Wind, who was quivering and heaving for air, her head down and eyes squeezed shut with exertion. She blinked hazily at him, then sighed and relaxed. Screaming air rushed back into the canyon all at once. Wind collapsed, blood spurting from her nostrils.

Faith looked on in some horror—she had seen Hunters die that way—but luckily in Wind's case it seemed to just be a nosebleed. She nestled her chin into the ground, her sides heaving, and gazed with weary fondness at her siblings freaking out over her.

Faith didn't want to agitate her again, but she felt like she needed to acknowledge these heroics. She approached gingerly, watching Wind's reaction. The dragon's damp greenish eyes roved over her and fixed . . . but she didn't tense. Only blinked slowly, blowing out a long, tired breath.

Cautiously Faith reached up to place a hand on the dragon's muzzle, marveling at the pulse still pounding there.

"Brave girl," she murmured. Wind huffed.

"Look who's talkin'," said Jet Jack. Faith blinked, registered, then reddened.

"Don't you start, Jet Jack."

"Whaaaaat?" said Jet Jack sweetly. Faith sighed and swung the sack of Healing Plant over her shoulder before anyone else got any ideas. She'd never minded back when she was Heavy Metal, but compliments were a lot harder to take with the mask off.

"Come on, everyone. We've got a baby dragon to save!"

Earth stooped to slide his head under Wind's body, draping her over himself to carry her home. The other dragons trotted in an eager squadron around Faith, almost ignoring the other Hunters following as well.

"How you survive in this thing is beyond me," said Faith, pulling off the visor and holding it out to Jet Jack. Then she realized with a start that it was flecked with blood. Lifting a hand to her face, she felt rough, sand-blasted skin and trickles of sticky moisture.

"It's gotten me a couple of concussions," said Jet Jack, wiping the visor off on one of her eight shirts. "But at least I can still see."

"Mm . . . " Faith debated for a moment, then managed a gruff, "Thanks." It was a little outside of standard Hunter vocabulary, but Jet Jack only gave her a grin before popping the visor back on.


When they returned to the village, they were mildly dismayed to find that Muzzle was now under the blanket with the dragon, wrapped up tightly with Energy in his lap, chattering stories of charm and wonder. Energy was gazing up into his masked face with a sleepy kind of awe, while Firstbourne watched, rather perplexed.

"All right, we've got the plant!" called Faith, tossing down the sack. "We're going to need a lot more firewood."

The drama was far from over. The Healing Plant had to be processed for use, and there were different procedures for fresh versus dry leaves. The whole village got involved with cutting, heating, boiling, stirring, bringing water, keeping the fires lit. Then there was the question of convincing Energy to eat the medicine at all. She didn't even have an appetite for meat right now, let alone plants. The other dragons brought fresh prey by the brace, and the Hunters tried to conceal the thick Healing Plant paste inside it. Muzzle again proved valuable here, distracting Energy with chatter until she absent-mindedly ate what she was offered.

The whole process took the rest of the day. By evening, they had finally coaxed the last of the medicine down Energy's apathetic throat. Faith pushed loose hair from her eyes and looked tiredly up to Firstbourne.

"That's it," she said. "We've done all we can. It should start acting in two to four hours, then another ten hours or so for it to finish. In the meantime, there's nothing to do except keep her warm."

Firstbourne rumbled in acquiescence, looking mournfully down at Energy. The hatchling had fallen asleep, exhausted from all these strangers lifting her and prodding her and pushing strange-smelling food into her jaws. After a moment Firstbourne stepped over and took Energy into her mouth, preparing to go home. She dipped her head to the Hunters, then boosted away from the ground and took off. Her other children followed, some of them casting glances back to the village as they left.

Faith stood looking after them, her mind hazy with exhaustion. Around her, some of the Hunters began flopping down to rest among the chaos of cauldrons, grinding-stones, and firewood. Others joined Faith in watching the dragons leave.

No-Legs clicked up next to her.

"I think we did that right, didn't we?" he said. "The whole Christmas spirit thing."

"I think we did great," said Jet Jack, from atop a stack of firewood.

Faith hummed absently. Somehow, she felt no satisfaction; only a strange dread. There was no guarantee that the Healing Plant would help Energy at all. She might have an illness the plant didn't work on; perhaps the plant didn't work on dragons at all. Or perhaps she was too far gone already. There was a very high chance the hatchling would die anyway. And then . . . a very high chance Firstbourne would take her grief out on the Hunters who failed to save her.

She looked around at the others, all weary but content. Her heart bled at the thought of the risk they'd taken.

"Tell you what," she said quietly, wiping soot from her face. "We can forget rationing for a day. Tomorrow, you can have your Christmas."

Jet Jack and No-Legs turned to look at her, startled.

"You mean it?!"

"I mean it. You've all worked hard enough."

The two exchanged a delighted look and shot off, darting from Hunter to Hunter calling "Did you hear that? We're going to have Christmas!" Drowsy Hunters stirred from half-sleep, passing on the message, till the village seemed to echo with "Christmas?" "The real one?" "Tomorrow, for sure?" "We're having it!"

Faith sat down by the dying fire, holding out her arms to the warmth. She listened to the eager chatter rolling back and forth behind her, and tried to fight back the hollow feeling in her chest. Her eyelids were heavy after the previous sleepless night.

A shuffling step and the tapping of a cane came up next to her. She didn't look up, but she felt Redskull's quiet presence.

"You should be proud," he said at last.

Faith huffed lightly, a wry smile flickering across her face.

"You can't say I never change my mind."

Redskull chuckled. Faith leaned her elbows on her knees and stared into the embers, pulsing softly in the gathering twilight. The ripples of red and orange blurred across the backs of her eyes, the murmurs of her Hunters drifted around her, and eventually her eyelids slipped closed.


A/N: Was going to try alternating Hunters and ninja again, but it kinda broke up the flow. Next chapter is back to Ninjago!