Rain seemed to fall more frequently in the South than it ever did back on Berk, though Dreamer didn't really mind it. The light misting he had woken to was cool and refreshing to fly in, perhaps a sign that the hot-season's grip was beginning to wane. It fell uniformly, so that when he took to the sky from the forest it created a startling sense of gravity, of uncountable raindrops all falling in perfect unison with the slight slant of the steady breeze.
He deliberately flew slower, Wanderer wordlessly matching his pace, so that he did not need to lid his eyes against it, his dragon physiology unbothered by the almost nonexistent impacts. The droplets even had a scouring effect on the air, cleansing it of dust and salt, but somehow bringing to life the scents of the forest. Even gliding several body-lengths above it, he could smell the leaves, bark, stalks, flowers, all of it, as if he had just walked into the most pristine glade in existence.
As they neared the Lightstrikers' nest, it was clear they did not share his appreciation. Very few were in the air, the ledges and shelves around the nest were even more sparsely populated than usual, and a small congregation huddled just inside the mouth of the cave. A congregation that grew as he and Wanderer approached, more white faces peering out and up at them.
A light roar brought his attention to two Lightstrikers flying up to meet them. "Nightstrikers," Rising greeted as she swung around and pulled up beside them, Breaker falling in alongside her. "I want talk. Come to my cave." She and Breaker then pulled ahead a little to lead them.
Dreamer glanced interest, confusion, at Wanderer, who looked just as clueless, as they followed her towards her cave up the mountain. He then stared, impressed, as Rising and her mate flew in perfect harmony, their wings beating synchronously and providing the same lift and propulsion, even the way their tails drifted and swayed in almost exactly the same way behind them. Now being more familiar with Lightstrikers, Dreamer was also struck by how large Breaker was for one, though he was still noticeably smaller than Dreamer himself; Lightstrikers were just smaller in general, it seemed.
The opening was a little narrow for even two, so Rising ducked and pulled ahead of her mate to enter ahead of him; he flew in with his nose practically touching her tail. Something about watching them gave Dreamer the impression of the many, many years they had been together.
He let Wanderer go first and ducked in behind him, flaring his wings and trotting to a halt, then shook himself off. The interior was more cavernous than he'd thought it would be, very wide and with thick, jagged pillars scattered throughout. "This nice cave," he warbled, flicking droplets of water from his wings. "You have this for being alpha?" It smelled strongly of only her and her mate… Very strongly.
"No," Breaker huffed, amused, and he and Rising nuzzled each other with deep purrs. "We dug this cave with our fire, our claws."
Impressed, Wanderer hummed, while Dreamer looked around with wide eyes. It must have taken years, constantly blasting and clawing out chunks of solid rock. Now that he was looking, he could see the smooth paths where they had dragged or rolled rocks through, further worn down by decades, maybe centuries of their claws. No wonder Breaker wasn't worried about her with her Nightstriker fixation…
"This our place," Rising purred, "but bring you here because I not want talk in rain. Not nice out there this light."
"This quite nice rain," Dreamer objected.
"I not like rain here when I hatched," Wanderer hummed, "but it much nicer than rain much far north." He and Dreamer both shuddered compulsively at that.
Rising rumbled, sitting on her haunches. "That what I want talk about. You have lived difficult lives." Dreamer shared a brief look with Wanderer, but neither of them argued; it was true. "You," she indicated to Dreamer, meeting his eyes, "were hurt much."
"Say what you are wanting," Wanderer growled, baring a few teeth, "if that not just making us feel bad."
Apologetic, Rising hummed quietly, dipping her head; Breaker wasn't getting involved, watching coolly and apparently unfazed by Wanderer's mild aggression. "Some in my pack have… bad thinking, after you fight our males. No Nightstriker ever fought so strongly before," she looked to Wanderer, "or so fiercely," to Dreamer. "You both very young, also we not see many Nightstrikers, none for much time. Many think our males are weak now. But they not, you just very strong." She pawed at the ground, quietly humming sympathy. "They need know how you so strong. Why you so fierce. Know… your strength is not all good. I not can tell you to do this, but I ask, please. Finding mate is… not easy for them already."
Dreamer felt himself drooping, and looked aside to Wanderer. The other Nightstriker was highly toned, rippling with muscle in all the places needed for strong flying and intense fighting. But also covered in 'scar-scales' as Rising had called them, trails of larger scales that protected places they had been hurt before, growing over their scars when they shed. Patterns over his face, shoulders, paws, down his back; it only seemed his chest was bare, but that featured faint lines instead, as such scales did not form there.
Their strength alone was not worth what they had been through. Dreamer himself would suffer it all again in a heartbeat for Wanderer and being a dragon and everything they had accomplished, but just their skill and strength alone, the only things evident by looking at them, was not worth it.
"We will tell them," Wanderer agreed. "Enough for understand," he added, glancing at Dreamer, who huffed agreement.
"Thank you," Rising hummed. Then she looked outside and huffed. "Good time for this, when raining. You not mind it, but most of this pack does."
Dreamer shrugged, then gestured outside. "We go now?"
"Yes," Rising agreed, and they all winged back out into the rain for the short dive down to the bottom caves.
Now that he knew how Rising and Breaker had made their cave, Dreamer wondered if this main cave had been dug out in a similar manner. The walls were nearly as rough and jagged, and it was too uniform and strangely shaped to be natural. Come to think of it, had the whole mountain been blasted out, over generations? That would explain its odd shape…
Wanderer pelted him with water as he vigorously shook himself, and he followed suit, eliciting various barks of alarm and annoyed growls from the females who had been quick in approaching. "Rising want us tell you about us," Wanderer warbled solemnly, sitting on his haunches.
"I will get others," Searching said hurriedly, beating the rush.
"Males also," Dreamer warbled to Racing, who was also nearby. She chuffed acknowledgement before swiftly trotting to the other side of the cave, further in.
The few remaining females made themselves comfortable, murmuring among themselves, except for two more who left to probably find their friends. They looked excited, eager. Dreamer wondered how they would take it.
Lightstrikers began to gather, so many to the point that Dreamer nudged Wanderer and they moved away from the edge of the cave to make more room; why they were all crammed into here instead of enjoying this light refreshing rain was something Dreamer didn't understand, but this was apparently more interesting than whatever else most of them had to do. Racing and Searching returned and made their way to the front, where they squeezed in among their friends, and room was made for Rising and Breaker to one side.
The better part of a hundred dragons were soon watching Dreamer and Wanderer expectantly, even while they talked and, in some cases, nuzzled and licked each other. Wanderer looked increasingly uncomfortable, shuffling his paws and his frills flattening back, though his ears remained wary. Public speaking, Dreamer thought to himself wryly, feeling similarly tense. Not something I ever thought I'd need as a dragon.
At least he knew how to handle it, in a sense, though he himself had never spoken publicly before either, at least not like this; just the occasional public shouting match with his sire. "We will tell you about our lives," he rumbled loudly, mentally walling himself off from the crowd and sort of speaking to himself. That was his own technique, the Viking approach was just to start talking and be loud about it, which wasn't bad advice in its own right. "I think you should say first," he said apologetically to Wanderer. "What happened to our family."
Wanderer blinked at him, his eyes narrowing in confusion for a heartbeat before he understood. "They were killed," he said simply, staring at Dreamer, and the mood in the cave plummeted faster than a dragon hit by a net. He then looked to the ground at his paws, running his claws along the rock. "That was in our fourth hot-season."
He spoke briefly of being lost, of being trapped by bad thoughts. Of having his tail injured, then fighting a dragon whose size was difficult to communicate, let alone comprehend. How he'd saved Dreamer from death, even as he himself was completely grounded. Surprisingly, he didn't struggle with the details, casually omitting anything too specific.
From there, the story came more easily. Dreamer had no memory, and Wanderer… Wrrr, Dreamer had never known how bad it had really been. He knew he'd gone hungry a lot, but he hadn't realised Wanderer had been on the brink of starvation himself. The horrified looks around them as they described hunting prey much larger than the both of them said it all. But they had become good at those hunts.
Then came the Long-Paw nest. Hearing a dragon describe the weird and wonderful contraptions Long-Paws used, such as a door, was amusing. Dreamer was able to add that he'd grown sick with the cold… and merged that into his subsequent illness that had further starved him.
The happy times were short-lived, at least the way they were telling it. They had certainly felt short-lived. He and Wanderer were attacked multiple times by members of the nest, until they were finally caught and split up. Dreamer explained how he was taken to Berserk, had his tail bound, and been hunted over and over and over again until he wanted to die; he had to remind himself, and their audience, that this was only his second hot-season in this body, barely more than a single year old. He stole fire and broke the binding on his tail, but not before it damaged him… He still had the slight kinks in the bones of his tail-fins to prove it. Luckily, he was rescued by their nest.
Wanderer went over his own traumatic experience, caught by a greedy Long-Paw who wanted to break him and use him to do bad things… and nearly succeeded. But he clawed back his thoughts and fought back. He still had the scars on his paws to prove it. After fighting his own way free, he was also rescued.
The cold-season was then spent healing Dreamer's tail, cooped up inside while the frozen wind howled. Wanderer described the cold by comparing the cold-season here to the start of the hot-season there; that was nice to know, that it did not get nearly so cold here.
But again, just as faces were starting to look relieved, Dreamer had to go into the nest giving them to the greedy Long-Paw, to Alvin. Again, they suffered and had to fight their way free, this time without help. Upon returning, they took the other wing-hunters and flew to another nest for a time. A nest with a bad alpha that had nearly killed Wanderer, badly clawing the length of his back.
So they returned again to the Long-Paw nest, only for that to get attacked again by Dagur. They fought back, and managed to capture him…
"You not killed him?" Rising asked sceptically, not the only one baring her teeth and growling under her breath. "You should have."
"Wrrr, maybe," Dreamer crooned smugly, giving her a cryptic look that had her glaring at him suspiciously.
Alvin had then struck again, both Wanderer and Dreamer getting caught up in a big fight between nests. They had needed to fight their way free again, and Wanderer proudly regaled the crowd with his account of flying Alvin high into the sky before using his first shot in his new body to blow him to pieces. That was far more appealing to their audience, who snarled and growled gleefully.
With their fire, and some young Long-Paws, they had then chased after some hunters they had heard about, engaging in a long and bloody war that dragged on through the following two warming-seasons, nearly two more years. Dreamer hadn't thought it would take long to tell, but he and Wanderer kept finding things to add. Finishing with that they turned Dagur around to use against the hunters had Rising staring at him in disbelief, which was amusing.
That led them to the ice nest, where they had stayed for a sky-ice-cycle or so… only for a Long-Paw to attack with another giant dragon. Dreamer was injured, Wanderer was being controlled… but yet again, they fought their way free.
"That was how I became alpha of that nest," Dreamer concluded grimly. "Many new wing-hunters, had been held prey by Long-Paws for much time. Not know how should behave."
"Then, we left," Wanderer finished up. "Not wanted that. So we flew here. Found you."
Dreamer pawed at the ground. On one paw, it felt… freeing, to tell his tale. To have his suffering validated, seeing and hearing the shocked, outraged, and often horrified Lightstrikers as he recounted his life; and that was just the dragon side. Perhaps, it was understandable that he might be a little messed up from it all. On the other paw, he only wanted understanding, if even that, not the pity some were bound to have for him.
"We needed fight all our lives," he mumbled. "Much strong, yes… We needed be strong. Or… we die."
He couldn't look at them. Going over all that had made him angry. What kind of fledglings could be expected to hunt for themselves and fight for their lives, over and over? All because of Long-Paws. A minority of them, perhaps, but at best most of them weren't bothered either way, and plenty were eager to hunt and slaughter dragons for fun.
Dreamer stood, and his tail lashed as he spun and stalked out into the rain, hoping it would cool off the frustration boiling under his scales. He didn't want pity, and he didn't want to be comforted by those just hoping to roll in the hay with him. Maybe Racing, if she didn't say anything, which he didn't think she would… He looked over his shoulder, briefly meeting her gaze and staring into her wide blue eyes for a heartbeat, before taking to the air.
Only one other flew out with him, Wanderer's strong and distinct wingstrokes beating a familiar rhythm. Perhaps that was for the best.
It was not the pleasantly warm breeze, nor the small-wing-prey twittering and chirping in the trees, that Wanderer first noticed as he roused. No, the first thing that grabbed his attention was just how sore he was.
Regret, he grumbled, stretching out on the branches he was lying across, and Dreamer groaned agreement.
At least he no longer felt a need to tear something to shreds. He'd never really sat down and thought about all the bad that had happened in his life, and in Dreamer's. They'd been forced to mature so quickly, to the point that females many cold-seasons older than him seemed like immature fledglings. That was certainly much of what was bothering him about this nest of Lightstrikers, but that was a problem with him, not them.
Still, taking out his frustrations on Dreamer, and Dreamer on him, had left them both with a lot of scrapes, bruises, and sore muscles. Better than letting it fester and rot into resentment, but he was regretting it now.
He stretched and stood on the branches, then gingerly climbed up the tree and forced himself to jump and catch the wind. Dreamer took his time following, but Wanderer was only flying slowly, just riding the breeze, and not even towards the Lightstriker nest. He didn't really want to face all that right now.
They flew in silence. Wanderer himself was feeling dull and apathetic, burned out from all the flying and running and fighting they'd done during the previous evening and night. It was also quite early, just before midday, but he didn't want to be lying around. He didn't want to be doing anything, but Sire had always said to go flying if he needed to clear his head, and it was helping-
Something swiftly cut across their flight, beneath them. Something fast and unseen. Wanderer growled under his breath and kept his eyes forward, hoping they'd go away…
"We missed you last light," a Lightstriker crooned as she seemed to materialise in the air, flying alongside him. "You only tell us about you then leave…"
"Not good memories," Dreamer growled.
"You live through much," she agreed, drifting closer. "But now you can have fun…"
Wanderer wasn't in the mood for this – she really should have been able to tell just by looking at him, given how stiffly and lazily he was flying – and met her eyes. She immediately startled and pulled back to a more respectable distance.
"Where we going?" she asked a short time later.
"Fish," Wanderer replied shortly, angling them for the sea.
"I can bring fish, if you want rest," she offered, lightly flicking her wings.
He didn't have the motivation to decline, or even figure out whether or not he should accept her offer. What did it matter anyway? He didn't really want to go fishing. Instead, he just made a vague, noncommittal noise-
"Wait for me at nest!" she exclaimed gleefully, taking long, powerful wingstrokes and pulling ahead. "I know where find good fish!" she called back.
He and Dreamer watched her go, as she flew quickly out towards the sea. This whole situation with this nest was irritating him more and more with every night, and he still could not say why, but at this moment it was particularly bad. Almost bad enough to put his tail to the whole place.
But that wasn't fair of him. They deserved a chance… which for some reason only made him even more irritable.
"I guess we go to their nest," Dreamer rumbled, adjusting their course. Wanderer wordlessly followed the new heading, lacking any motivation to argue. Perhaps he'd feel better with some fish and some rest. Hopefully the other females were not as oblivious as this one.
Dreamer himself seemed… not happy, but adjusted, maybe. Accepting. He was such an unbelievably strong person, and just his calm, collected gaze as they flew was inspiring. It made Wanderer feel a little better.
When they descended into the nest a short time later, landing on one of the ledges high up one of the sides of the nest, they were of course immediately joined by their usual entourage. Females flocked to them, assaulting him and Dreamer with questions and pointless pleasantries, but he cut them off with a short growl. "I want rest," he declared, dropping to his chest where he stood. "I maybe will join you later."
That was met by a chorus of disappointed sounds, but Dreamer was quick in reassuring them that he would do something suitably fun with them, as long as it was not too strenuous. He sounded so confident, so calm and sincere… And then, when the females started lifting their wings and flying from the shelf, he leaned in and spoke with worry and compassion. "I know it hurt… but holding that pain not will help." He then chuffed in reply something one of the females had asked him, and took off to fly with them.
Just as he had wanted, Wanderer was left alone to his thoughts. Not quite alone, he was in a lively nest of wing-hunters close enough to his own kind as to make no difference, but they felt distant, separated from him.
Holding onto his pain… Dreamer made it sound as if he had a choice. He did not choose to be hurt by this any more than by claws or teeth when they pierced his hide. As if he would choose to hurt.
A female landed on the ledge with him, his aggravation spiking – and not entirely receding when he spotted her holding the biggest fish he had ever seen, easily the size of one of his legs, reminding him he had sort of agreed to this. She trotted over and proudly placed it at his paws, then sat on her haunches, looking very pleased with herself.
Wanderer put his nose to it, a little curious if not all that hungry. "This is… very big fish," he admitted.
"Yes," she purred happily. "Not easy to find. We needed agree not bring this kind when… we last offer fish…" She at least had the decency to paw at the ground and look regretful about that poorly thought-through incident.
"Thank you," he mumbled, settling into his chest and half-heartedly taking a small bite. She purred at that and walked around-
"Not now," he warned, blocking her off with his wing as she tried to sidle up against him.
"I want help," she said quietly. "All you said last light, I… not can understand all you live through. But I want help."
He sighed and pawed at the fish. "I just want rest now. Maybe feel better later."
"Maybe you feel better under my wing?" she warbled hopefully, brushing against his wing-
"I said no!" he snarled, and she yelped as she scrambled off the ledge, her wings swiftly carrying her away.
He growled aimlessly, at himself, the empty ledge, whatever. He felt uncontrollably angry, a hot fire coursing through him, and seemingly of its own accord his paw lashed out and struck the fish, sending it skipping across the rock and straight off the edge.
A life-beat passed while he comprehended what had happened, an agonising throb burning in his paw. He'd caught his claws on the ground, the tips snagging on a slight bump but forced past it by the strength he'd put into it. Served him right for lashing out like that. And that female was probably feeling miserable now too, which he supposed was also his fault. Grrr…
He bit down on the paw, dulling the pain deep in his claws with more pain, and settled back down, trying to control himself. He didn't want to take out his frustrations on these Lightstrikers… but at the same time, she should have noticed how aggravated he was and given him space. He shouldn't have snarled at her, but she shouldn't have pushed him to.
The throbbing slowly subsided to a sharp ache, at which point he removed the paw from his teeth and gently touched it to the ground. It did not feel damaged, just very sore, so he turned his thoughts back to the female… realising that he couldn't remember which one it had been.
He growled under his breath and lay down on the warm rock, supposing he couldn't be annoyed with someone he couldn't identify.
But wasn't that part of the problem? He needed to know these females before he could even begin to decide which ones might be a suitable mate, but it was too much all at once. Or, perhaps, were none of them interesting enough to stand out?
The thought clawed at him, unwilling to leave his mind. He hated it. He hated how they fawned over him, and he hated-
Another set of wings flapped into a landing on his lonely ledge, and he snapped around to face the source, feeling nothing but sheer surprise.
"You Nightstriker!" the little Lightstriker fledgling barked happily, bounding up to him and then crouching just out of reach. She was tiny, not even the size of one of his legs, her voice sharp and shrill and her eyes wide and trusting. "We play!"
He stared at her, his raging, tumultuous thoughts suddenly frozen and quiet. "Why?"
"Sire say!" she chirped, bouncing from side to side, her little tail flicking around.
"Your sire tell you play with me?" he asked, very confused. There didn't seem to be any Lightstrikers watching…
She stared at him, humming thoughtfully. "No," she seemed to decide.
"Your sire not tell you play with me?"
"No," she confirmed, then growled, baring her tiny little teeth. "We play now!" She bounded forward and pounced his leg, growling as she bit and clawed at it.
"Wait," he rumbled, pushing her back and then twisting his paw free. "Why you want play?"
"Sire say!" she barked at him again, preparing for another pounce.
"No, wait," he said sternly, and her eyes went wide as they locked to his. "What Sire say?"
"He say…" She stared at him, her tail still flicking around. "Grrr, I want play!"
"What Sire say?" Wanderer repeated even more sternly.
The fledgling sat on her haunches, seeming to look thoughtful. "He say… females want play with you!" She jumped back into her playful crouch, front paws splayed wide, and happily bared her teeth. "Play!"
Wanderer blinked at her. "That not what your sire mean," he rumbled, looking around. "Where he is?"
"Not understand," she immediately replied, then whined piteously. "Plaaay!"
Wanderer huffed, he supposed she was a bit young to understand. "Not should play without your sire," he warned, standing and walking to the edge-
"No!" she barked, then ran up to him and stood on her hindlegs to put her tiny little paws on his shoulder. "Not call Sire!" she pleaded, eyes wide and wings held tightly to her sides. "I female! I can play with you!"
He stared at her, his mouth hanging open, momentarily struck speechless by her innocence and enthusiasm. "You not should play without your sire," he managed to repeat, then quickly inhaled and barked down into the nest, grabbing the attention of every Lightstriker in sight. Some of those gliding around drifted up, where they quickly spotted his guest, and one hastily dove back into the nest. The other two drifted over to nearby ledges where they sat down to watch. "I think your sire will come soon," he rumbled.
"Why you not play with me?" the little female whined, dropping to the ground and curling up by his paw to lay her head on her tail. Her wings were limp, ears and eyes downcast, and then she started whimpering in short sobs.
"I not say that," Wanderer hummed, feeling a tight tension in his chest start to relax. "But your sire should know you here."
"Not understand," she growled amidst her whimpers.
Wanderer wasn't sure what to say about that, but the hurried wingbeats ascending up the nest told him he didn't have to. The fledgling's ears flattened further, and then Wanderer took a few steps back as a male scrambled up over the edge.
He swiftly approached the fledgling with a low growl. "I say they not want play with you," he said sternly, quickly nosing her over. "Sorry," he then said to Wanderer, "she normally sleep now, not think you be here this early…"
"I say she not should play without her sire," Wanderer hummed, giving the male a significant look.
"Pouncing not should do that," the male growled in agreement, glaring down at his fledgling, then nudged her with a paw.
"Not understand," she growled.
"You understand," the male growled back, then sighed and looked up at Wanderer, who just shrugged. "Maybe, you can ask him…"
She perked at that, lifting her head and ears to stare hopefully at her sire-
"Next light," he said sternly. "If you are good. You did what I told you not to do, this light. Also you should be sleeping now."
Wanderer could just see the options working their way through the little female's mind as she considered how to react. "Yes," she reluctantly agreed, "I should sleep now… I will be good…"
"Yes," her sire hummed, and gave her a little nuzzle. "Go back to cave. I will come soon." The fledgling chirped acknowledgement and stood to jump out into the air, splaying her paws and flapping wildly and inefficiently. "You really not mind?" the male then asked Wanderer as they watched her clumsy descent.
Wanderer shrugged again. "She really want play with me," he chuckled.
"She hear females talking," the male groaned, pawing at his head. He then yawned widely. "She is clever, also very energetic…"
"Also not sleeping all night?" Wanderer guessed, then chuckled when the male just groaned again; that wasn't as much of an issue for Nightstriker nests. "We could come at night, when she wake. We awake anyway. Dreamer will much want play with her."
"He… is gentle?" the male asked, not looking entirely lucid.
"Very," Wanderer assured him.
"No, maybe…" The male shook his head and blinked heavily. "I will ask my mate. I need…" He pawed at the air towards the cave, then walked to the edge and just dropped right off it.
Wanderer watched him go, wondering if he really did want to play with a little fledgling. It would probably be very boring, but…
He huffed and settled back into his chest, once again alone with his thoughts. He felt… calmer, happier. Somehow, that innocent and admittedly quite cute little fledgling had cut that frustration right out of him. Not entirely, but he felt… much better. About everything.
So very innocent and happy… She hadn't lived through what he had, and hopefully never would. Just like all the other females in this nest. All the ones vying for his attention.
Such a simple shift in thinking changed his entire perspective on them. He had been thinking of them as immature, certainly compared to himself, but really, they just hadn't experienced the horrible things he had. They were innocent. Happy. Perhaps he did not entirely agree with how they nested – though he had to admit, it was very safe – but Rising had said they knew how Nightstrikers nested, and they clearly didn't have a problem with it.
A mate who was free of all those burdens, who still had much to learn about life, was a very appealing thought. One who could remind him to have fun, that some things did not need taking seriously. That wasn't to say he could accept someone immature… but they did not need to be as scarred as he himself was.
He took a deep breath, then rose to his paws and looked out over the nest. Dreamer and the females were nowhere to be seen, so he took to the air and drifted around the mountain to look for them. The slim white forms floating on the breeze around the nest suggested they were hanging around the beach.
The unmated males and females did seem to spend a fair amount of time there. Not that he could blame them, eagerly eyeing the warm, dry sand and imagining the calming sounds of the waves breaking on the surf as he watched them from afar.
He rolled and dove to speed over the remaining distance, swooping down past the cliff and kicking up sand as he backwinged into a landing. Dreamer happily trotted up to him and nuzzled him, though the females were rather more hesitant than usual. "You good?" Dreamer asked him.
"Yes," Wanderer rumbled, bumping heads with him, then took a step past him to address the Lightstrikers. "I not had good thinking earlier," he rumbled apologetically; he didn't want to apologise to the pushy female, and didn't know which one she was anyway, but he could admit he hadn't behaved very well. "I had… unexpected talk. Was helpful. Feel better now."
"Talking does help," Dreamer agreed, sitting in the sand.
"Not was that kind of talk," Wanderer snorted. "I tell you later."
Dreamer warbled curiously at that. "Small warning," he said quietly, "females are… very eager this light. All want show me what they do well…"
"We do thing now?" one of the females chirped hopefully as she tried across in front of them. "We should fly! I very good flier, I will catch you!"
"It like this since I got here," Dreamer mumbled.
Wanderer just huffed. "You rather I catch you?" The female's eyes went wide, and she dropped into a ready crouch. "I will wait four life-beats."
She was off, bounding across the sand and then flinging herself into the air, her sleek wings taking long, powerful strokes…
"Maybe I should wait eight life-beats," Wanderer rumbled as he watched her, ignoring the uncertain looks he was getting; they would get their turns.
"Branches need be not much bigger than ones burning," Dreamer explained, then grabbed the next branch in his teeth and stood on it to break it. "Not need be short," he said, then placed it on the little fire he had going, "but it get annoying if too big. Try keep fire size you want."
"Why need dead wood?" rumbled Kicker, one of the two observing males, as he pawed at the moderate pile of wood. "Harder to find, also not as much."
Dreamer purred, pleased he was asking questions; he was actually quite enjoying their company, they were very alert and observant. "Grass-colour branches not burn well. Makes much smoke, not burn as easily. But you can break some branches and leave them some time, then they will die and burn well…"
On second thought, perhaps teaching dragons to tear down a forest wasn't a great idea. "Maybe just not make fires often. Not want break too many trees."
The other male had been quiet so far, simply watching with a cool understanding. His name was a word Dreamer had never heard and didn't understand so well, meaning something like 'being there but not' which he thought of as Ghoster in Norse; he didn't need to think the name in Norse, but having a Norse equivalent helped him understand and remember it. It was apparently some specific term Lightstrikers used sometimes, anyway. "Our fire not like yours," he rumbled in a calm and relatively deep voice.
Dreamer chuffed, having been aware of that. "I can light in two ways… Wait, I not know if you have air-fire?" Ghoster and Kicker stared blankly at him. "Like this," he huffed, then shot a stream of fire at the flames, fanning them and turning the wood white-hot.
"We… not can do that," Kicker mumbled, staring at the fire. "Also I not think we can shoot fire that not explode."
Dreamer sat on his haunches to think. "Maybe if not shoot?" he asked, then worked his throat to dribble some plasma onto the sand between them where it burned a faint blue in the fading light of the sky-fire.
"Your fire weird," Kicker said bluntly, pawing at the little burning patch. He then opened his mouth-
Ghoster nudged Kicker's jaw with a wing, pointing it up and aside right before he let out a writhing gout of flame a body-length long. "What where you shoot," he said in a low growl.
"I not would have shot if you not did that," Kicker growled back, clawing at the sand under his paw. "Here, I try again," he added, opening his mouth at Ghoster-
"Enough," Dreamer growled, glaring at both males. "Green wood harder to burn, but it still will burn. You could burn all your forest away if you not careful. This not game."
Kicker grumbled and faced out towards the sea to try again. Ghoster just stared at Dreamer with that calm, observant gaze, then lightly shook his head, "Yes." He then walked around the fire – keeping his distance from Kicker, who seemed to be more blowing off some steam on the surf than trying to make an actual fire – and assembled a few little sticks and bits of bark from the small pile Dreamer had brought.
Dreamer purred as the Lightstriker carefully dripped only a spoonful of snarling, writhing fire onto the pile, instantly setting it alight and quickly burning down to a regular flame. "This is simple," Ghoster declared, then added a few more sticks using his teeth and crouched down to watch it closely, the flickering light reflecting off his bright blue eyes and sparkling over his white hide.
"You are simple," Kicker huffed, then scraped a pawful of twigs and bark from the pile and easily set light to it as well.
"Good," Dreamer chuffed, relieved he hadn't been wasting his time and theirs. "Best make fires away from things that can burn. But not bury in sand, that…" Actually, being generally fireproof, maybe it wasn't really a problem that it would keep burning; it wasn't as if it would injure anyone. "Best not," he decided anyway.
He watched the two males play with their fires for a little while, rearranging and pawing at the slowly-growing flames in between adding the occasional branches. "How old you are?" he suddenly asked, curious.
"Nine hot-seasons," Ghoster said without looking, and it took Dreamer a moment to work his way through the logic; the first hot-season was experienced before a year old, so that meant he would be nine years old some time before the next hot-season.
"Seventeen," Kicker waved dismissively, indicating a pawful of pawfuls and one.
Dreamer blinked at him. "Seventeen?" he repeated, and Kicker chuffed. "You still not have mate?"
The Lightstriker shrugged, using a claw to pick at a stick in his fire. "Not yet."
"...Why? If I can ask."
"You did ask," Kicker said wryly, giving him a confused look, then shrugged again. "It just not happen yet. Striker is older, he lived twenty-one hot-seasons."
"Now I know why he want us gone," Dreamer said dryly, shuffling a little closer to the fires; his own was starting to burn out, and theirs were starting to give off some nice warmth.
Ghoster huffed. "Not worry about him. We not mind."
Confusion, Dreamer growled. "Then why he challenge us?"
"Why you think he is Striker?" Kicker chuckled. "I kicked Dam while I was sleeping. But I also like fighting…" He trailed off, his ears falling a bit.
"Sorry… I not should fought you like that," Dreamer mumbled.
"I know why you fight like that now," Kicker mumbled back. "Maybe you should fight us more while here, learn to have fun with fighting."
Dreamer pawed at the sand. "I can have… Yes, you right…"
"But maybe not around females," Kicker added lightly as he delicately dropped a tiny twig from his claws into the middle of his merry fire.
"I think some females like male who can whine like hatchling," Ghoster rumbled levelly, and Kicker hissed warning at him.
"I not can say finding mate is easy," Dreamer conceded, heading off the potential argument. "We here… pawfuls of nights, now, but I still not remember all their names." Perhaps he should not be so critical of how long they were taking until he had been through the whole process himself.
"It different for you," Ghoster said, pawing at the flames and patting the glowing sticks within. "They not treat us like that. But I not know if that is easier. Did last Nightstrikers find mates here?"
"No," Kicker purred, staring off into the distance. "She was wild…" He snorted and gave his head a shake. "But some have." Hrrr, Rising had said it'd been a while, but that had to be at least four or five years ago assuming Ghoster might have been around but not paying attention at the time…
"You really not mind us being here?" Dreamer asked, still unsure that was really the case.
"Females will forget us while you here," Ghoster rumbled. "We also forget them some. We not need worry about that now, that is nice. When you leave, then all will feel new again. Is good."
"Even if we take pawfuls of hot-seasons?" Dreamer asked wryly, grinning at him.
Both males laughed. "You will want leave before cooling-season ends," Kicker chuckled, settling down next to his fire.
Dreamer nearly asked why, before remembering what happened to dragons in the cooling-season. Yeah… Probably best if they didn't hang around for that… "So which female you chasing?" he asked slyly, wriggling to shuffle the sand around and get comfortable.
"Shining," Kicker sighed happily, "long legs, longer tail, mmrrrr…"
"You can have her," Dreamer huffed, rolling his eyes.
Ghoster snorted. "If she can take her claws off Striker."
"Yes, but Striker hates her," Kicker said dismissively, and Dreamer's wings hit the sand as he stared incredulously at him. "But she makes him look good so he just flies with it."
Dreamer put a paw on his head. So the most desirable male and female in the pack both courted pretty much only each other, at least openly, solely because they both hated each other and never expected to end up together. "You should tell her that," he groaned.
"I do," Kicker huffed. "She just think I trying to court her." He hummed to himself. "She not wrong, but I not see why that make me wrong."
This all sounded like a horrible tangle of drama that Dreamer really wanted to step in and sort out, but on the other paw, didn't want to be anywhere near. He wanted to smack some sense into those two idiots and get this idiot courting someone with more depth than a tidal pool, but undoubtedly he'd just end up tangled up in it all himself. They'd sort themselves out eventually. Probably.
They sat in silence for a little while, the light having further faded while the sky-fire set, the three of them roughly arranged around the two fires and Dreamer's pile of charcoal. As with the females, the male Lightstrikers' hides glittered in the firelight, tiny little motes of light reflecting the dancing flames.
"Any female you chasing?" Kicker warbled playfully.
"He not need chase them," Ghoster pointed out, and Kicker directed a short growl at him.
"Racing, maybe," Dreamer admitted sheepishly.
Ghoster hummed thoughtfully. "She make you notice her, then you almost not see her for pawful of lights?" Dreamer blinked at him. "She thinks as fast as she runs. Maybe too fast. Or maybe you not think that bad thing." The nonchalant Lightstriker shrugged. "Everything she does has reasons. She wants you thinking about her. Later she will ask you to do small thing for her." He huffed. "That maybe works, but I think that… is too much thinking. Not should think about these things."
"I thought you just liked me," Kicker teased, flattening his ears and the few frills Lightstrikers had as he rocked his head.
"Any other male," Ghoster groaned flatly.
Their playful banter didn't do much to alleviate Dreamer's sinking heart. It was odd, he wanted an intelligent mate… but not one who manipulated him into being their mate. One who maybe could, but wouldn't.
He pawed at his head. Maybe I have too high standards… Then again, it wasn't as if he was wasting his youth or anything like that, he didn't have to settle as he would have needed to in his old life. And that was something he already knew… but it was still possible to be too critical.
He decided not to take Ghoster's warning to heart… but it still left its doubts.
Dreamer huffed, standing tall and squaring his shoulders. "I have plan," he said confidently.
"Again?" Wanderer asked, then yawned widely, still hanging upside-down from the tree they had slept in, wings wrapped tightly around his body and his head only about level with Dreamer's chest.
"I not can meet all at same time," Dreamer continued.
"You say that already," Wanderer rumbled, blinking and blearily staring out into the forest. "We should fish."
Dreamer ignored him. "Will meet all, but only one each light. Then I will have better idea."
Wanderer snorted. "You say that also."
"I did?"
"Yes." He let his tail slip from the branch and dropped to the leafy ground, landing smoothly. "Lights past."
Dreamer growled, "I still will do it." Starting with Racing. If he could pin her down; she was slippery.
Wanderer shrugged, then started cleaning his face. "Maybe we can hunt something here. Want land-prey. Some scents around."
"Wait, really?" Some land-prey would be nice… "Grrr, you distracting. All those females, but you thinking of food?"
"You not thinking of food?" He huffed. "You will always be small-"
"I not small," Dreamer growled.
"Always my little Dreamer. Need food for chase females."
Dreamer swatted at him, but Wanderer tackled him and rolled him onto his back. Dreamer kicked back, trying to shove him away, and managed to get a good kick into his attacker's flank to shove him back. He then fled up the nearest tree and threw himself into the air, easily catching the stiff wind and sighing happily. What a great day for flying… A few too many clouds, not quite enough sun – the cooling-season was slowly winning over the hot-season – but still feeling warm and pleasant; it was still much warmer than the height of Berk's summers.
His friend coasted up alongside him, also clearly enjoying the weather, and subtly angled them to the nearest stretch of coast. Granted, he hadn't really enjoyed a meal with the females yet, somehow there had always been something to come up. Except for that time he'd built a fire on the beach… and for some reason he hadn't thought to cook anything. Maybe that should be his next trick.
They flew swiftly, aided by the winds, and dove into the chill water. At least as the cooling-season took hold, the water was becoming progressively colder which, while not pleasant, was helping cool him off more effectively; it would be much easier to focus without that tension gripping his midsection and hindquarters all day and night. Their meal and flight back to land was uneventful, no surprise females sneaking up on them or anything.
After alighting on the clifftop and cleaning themselves off, finishing up the fiddly bits for each other, they took to the air again and angled lazily for the Lightstriker nest, just letting the wind carry them. Dreamer definitely saw himself flying for much of this light… hopefully with a companion. If he could only figure out how to ask one.
He groaned under his breath at himself. When put that way…
The mountain nest neared, and Dreamer shared a look with Wanderer as he noticed there weren't any Lightstrikers in the air-
"Come, quickly," a harried, disembodied voice demanded out of nowhere, almost startling Dreamer into colliding with Wanderer.
"Rising?" he warbled uncertainly, straining to hear the subtle cut of the wind over her wings and maybe figuring out where she was, but she was all but invisible to his eyes.
There was a chuff, and then wingbeats from just off where he'd thought she was. He shared another look with Wanderer, this one much more concerned, as he worked his wings for speed, following the sound of her flying ahead of them into the nest. As they passed over, he saw more Lightstrikers than usual crowding the ledges, likely the ones who were normally in the air.
And then they were swooping into Rising and Breaker's cave, finding the male sat waiting for them and Rising fading into view even as she trotted to a halt. "What is it?" Dreamer asked.
"Is what?" Rising asked tensely – Dreamer realised he'd asked a question that didn't make sense in Dragonese – then shook her head. "No, I- Rrrr, you say come to you if Long-Paws come here." Dreamer's eyes widened, and she looked pleadingly back at him. "They coming here."