Cedar was dead.

His legs ached from his mad sprint, and his lungs felt burnt and raw with ash and smoke. Screams rang in his ears, both that of the prey's shrieks of terror and the predator's war cries. The blasts disoriented him, and the dust blinded him. Had there not been two moons out that night, his escape would have been hopeless.

The muscles in his body ached like they never had before, as he continued his dash for safety, away from the barbarians that sought his head. Why, he didn't know, he didn't care, all he knew was they wanted to spill his blood and they wanted it badly.

He ran south, sparing not a thought for the others in his village. The enemy struck swiftly and brutally that night; his home was overwhelmed immediately. For all he knew, he was the only one left alive. But the other tribe, whoever they were, were not the kind to leave a job unfinished, and were following him with the express intent of tying up that one last loose thread.

On the horizon, he spotted the shape of the massive rainforest form, dense and black despite the light of the moons. He changed his mind on destination, and with it his course, running full-tilt to the rainforest to lose his pursuers.

Maybe they were gone, maybe they were right behind him. He couldn't risk a backward glance to check, lest one of their blood-stained spears be jabbed between his tired eyes. Better safe than sorry, he figured, as he kept moving to what would be his safe haven.

Even as he broke the tree line, his pace never faltered. His legs felt as though they were about to combust, but they kept pistoning forward despite it all. He weaved between trees and dodged low-hanging vines and branches. As he launched himself further and deeper into the rainforest, the moonlight struggled more and more to break the canopy above and light his path, eventually leaving him alone in the dark as he kept fleeing the apparent danger chasing him.

With his vision impaired from the lack of light, Cedar could not keep up the pace forever, as his foot caught on the root of one of many looming trees. He let out a startled yell as his stride was unexpectedly broken, and he fell to the ground. He tried in vain to raise his arms to soften his fall, still only hitting the ground flat on his face.

He laid there for a long moment, fearing that the barbarians may still be on his tail, that this small tumble was enough for them to finally catch up, of what they would do to him; fearing that a spear or sword may suddenly skewer the small of his back, or some rainforest creature would eat him alive. It was pitch black here, anything could come out at any moment and kill, kill, kill, kill, kill…

...And that moment never came.

His chest burnt out and his legs reeling in exhaustion, Cedar slowly managed to lift his head up just slightly from the dirt, enough to at least look around. It wasn't pitch dark, but light was scarce in this dense jungle. He could clearly see that there was nobody around, however; neither savages nor rainforest monsters.

He was completely alone and lost here.

He'd run so deep into the woods, he had no clue how to get back. Even if he did manage to find his way home, what home was there to return to? Who would be there to welcome him? A fellow survivor? One of those psychopaths who burned the whole place to the ground? He couldn't exactly fight them if that was the case. He was always scrawny, the runt of the bunch. It was a miracle he came this far anyway. Hell, after that sprint, he doubted he'd be able to run for a while; he felt numb, but wouldn't be surprised to later find he sprained his ankle or tore a muscle.

All there was to do was mourn.

And mourn he did.

As he moaned and sobbed into the dirt floor, he didn't care if his cries had him caught and killed. He'd lost so much in the span of a few hours, his own life would serve as only a small addition to the pile. His family, his home, his people, all reduced to piles of ash and gore.

The whole scenario made him think, why him? Why, of all the able-bodied and intelligent people in his small tribe, did he of all people survive? Maybe there was some bigger purpose to all this, like fate or destiny. Maybe it was as simple as he was the first to run.

Or maybe they were all fine, fended off the invasion, and he was the doomed one.

As his energy began to slowly return to him, he weakly grabbed onto a low hanging vine and tried to pull himself up, while grabbing at anything he could for support. After some trial, error, and a small handful of further faceplants, he eventually managed to stand upright, leaning his back up on a massive looming tree for support. Once he was finally on two legs, he had a glance around the vicinity.

It's dark. A small few rays manage to pierce the thick canopy of the dense rainforest, scarcely illuminating the area. Anything could jump out from five feet in front of him, and he'd never see it coming.

Deciding that he can't stay here much longer, Cedar wiped his face of tears and mud, only serving to smudge it. He took a step forward, and instantly collapsed into the ground. After pulling himself up and repeating this cycle a few times, he successfully took a few steps forward, aided only by the support of the strong vines draping down from above him. He crashed into the side of another tree, about a half dozen paces away from the previous one, but he still stood.

With this support, he slowly began the process of staggering his way through the shadowy rainforest. Having forgotten which way he came, he had no general direction in mind, aside from somewhere safe. Safer than here, at the very least.

As he was trudging through a more shaded section, behind the dark, hulking mass of a tree, something suddenly swept through the overgrowth nearby, and large, pounding footsteps echoed through the woods. Startled, Cedar's grip on the vine he was holding slipped, and he collapsed into the ground for the umpteenth time that night. Now in a stable position, he was paralyzed with fear; What was that noise? How close was it? Was it partial to eating him alive?

He scooted back further into the shadow of the tree. He couldn't run in his condition, but he could still hide. He carefully peeked out from the dark, and stared at where the noise had come from. It had not stopped since he had first heard it; in fact, it only grew more frequent, and ever louder.

As the noise level reached its apex, a massive figure came pushing through the foliage, and from it came rushing a massive Nightwing.

Cedar's breath hitched. He'd hardly seen many dragons before, and never from this close. More importantly, what was a Nightwing doing in the rainforest? Nobody knew exactly from where the species hailed - the topic was hotly debated among human scholars – but most agreed that the rainforest, of all places, wasn't a possibility.

So, why was it here? Interestingly enough, Cedar found himself staring at the dragon's face, yet only found an expression carved into it that almost seemed to mimic concern and fear.

As the titanic creature darted off in the opposite direction, Cedar was stuck on what to do. The thing could tear him to shreds in a split second if he was he caught. But some part of him, some curious and young side of his mind, told him to see what it was up to. Perhaps it had resources or shelter wherever it was going. Who knows; maybe it was on its way out of the forest, the same as he was.

But deeper down, some darker part of him whispered the real reason he wanted to follow. Everything and everyone he'd ever known and loved was gone, scorched from the face of the earth so quickly, as though all the things that made up his entire life were never there at all. He wasn't sure if he'd survive this, but to him, it didn't matter. In a certain sense, a part of had already withered away when the fires in his home broke out.

Cedar was already dead.

Shaking his head of such depressing thoughts, he started to limp his way after it, a newfound vigor in his movements. Doing his best to remain quiet, he kept a safe distance away from the Nightwing, hoping the faint sounds of him rustling through the grass wouldn't give him away. The dragon wasn't making things easy for him, however; it was constantly glancing around and over its shoulder, as though it were expecting to be followed. The fact that it was far larger than him and thus moved far faster didn't exactly help, either.

It eventually reached a large overgrowth that almost seemed to act as some kind of wall. The dragon took one last glance at its surroundings, with Cedar just barely managing to take cover behind a large shrub in time. The dragon raised its large talons and parted the vines, before stepping through. Cedar, his curiosity growing even further, began to quietly tread towards the wall, and stuck his head through to peek around.

The first thing that hit him was just how bright the clearing beyond was compared to the rest of the forest. A gaping hole in the canopy above let the full strength of the moonlight pierce the branches and coat the jungle floor. It was a beautiful sight for Cedar's young eyes to behold, but what shocked him most was what was in the middle of the clearing, currently bathing in the incandescence of the moon's rays.

A lone egg, smooth and glowing silver.

A number of thoughts hit Cedar's mind at once. The dragon he followed here, who was currently staring in awe at the egg, must have been its mother. He thought he saw a single tear drip from its – no, her, eye.

For another, he suddenly felt that he shouldn't be here; as if he was intruding on a sacred and personal ritual. Just gazing at the scene unfold before him made him feel unlawful, unholy, perverted. He almost turned to leave, but just as he was about to, his previous curiosity flared to life again, and it told him to stay. He felt wrong, but that part of him wanted him to observe.

An audible crack came from the egg and resonated through the clearing. Cedar flinched at the noise, which was soon followed by another, and another, until the shell of the egg shattered like glass into a thousand pieces.

Cedar gasped, and ducked his head down below the leaves. After taking a brief moment to collect himself, he, very slowly, inched the vines away from his vision to take another peek at the scene in the clearing.

Where the egg once stood was now a pile of broken shells and, in the middle, a lone hatchling, its scales sleek and ebony, gazing up in wonder at its mother and the two bright moons in the sky.

As he gazed at the newly hatched dragonet, he suddenly recalled something he heard in a lesson about dragons back in his tribe. He paid little mind to most of his other classes, but for some reason, anything involving dragons always had him snap into attention. Humans didn't know too much about dragons as a whole, but they had picked up a few details throughout time.

Male dragons tend to have more angular, boxy faces, while the females have more rounded and curved ones. Upon further examination of the two Nightwings, they both had curved faces.

So they're both females. A mother and her daughter, he thought.

The smaller Nightwing let out a soft squeak, and shook more of the shells off of her, her smaller wings unfurling as she stretched herself out. She turned her gaze upward again, towards the two great moons in the sky. She reached her talons upwards toward the sky, as if she were trying to pluck the moons right out of it. Cedar thought she almost would, until the mother wrapped her talons, gently, around the newborn and lifted her up.

She lifted her up at about eye level, as though to help the dragonet make that final reach for the moons, before bringing her down and holding her tight against her chest. The mother cooed soothingly into the child's ear, eliciting another squeak from the young one as she leaned to cuddle into her mother's loving embrace.

Cedar felt his heart tug at the cozy, affectionate display. His eyes, already wet from his own loss earlier that night, beginning to water faintly. A smile forced itself onto his face as he wiped the tears away. He pushed the vines back inwards as they were and stood up.

But just as he turned to leave, a loud, guttural roar cut through the forest. The air suddenly felt thick. The fear he didn't realize had faded away suddenly returned with a vengeance. It was deep, masculine, violent. He realized that it seemed to come from the other side of the clearing.

His breaths shortening, he quickly crouched back down and reopened his window between the vines. The Nightwing mother seemed to have heard it, too. She had her head up, looking around nervously in the direction of the roar. She glanced down at her newborn dragonet, who, strangely enough, was sound asleep in her arms, unfazed by the noise.

She whispered something into her ear, with a sense of urgency to it. The dragonet's tired eyes fluttered open as she looked up once more at her mother's face. The mother whispered again, as if to repeat herself.

"Awrk?" the newborn sounded, pure and innocent into her very soul.

The mother lifted the dragonet into her arms and moved her to a darker, more shadowy section of the clearing. She tucked her in a small crevice between a fallen log and some thicker ferns. The mother began to rip up other nearby foliage and covering her hidden corner with it. The dragonet let out a saddened squeak as she tried to push away from the cover and reach for the moonlight again. Her mother shook her head and pushed her back into the shadows.

Cedar dared to shift his position closer to the shadows.

The newborn lunged outward and caught her mother's claw in her talons. "Rrrrk?" she asked, looking up at her mother. "Arrwrk?"

The mother whispered something more to her child, sounding frightened. The entire time she spoke, her baby stared deep into her eyes; as though she could see past them and gain a deeper understanding. Strangely, the child began to step further into the corners, and pulled up a small pile of leaves around herself.

That was odd. One moment she's dying to get back in the light, and the next she's further hiding herself in the shadows. She just hatched before his eyes; dragons couldn't learn that quickly, could they?

Another roar tore through the forest, causing both Cedar and the mother to jump. It sounded closer. She whispered one final goodbye to her child, before unfurling her wings. Her tears hit the ground with a faint plop, as she lifted herself from the ground with a powerful flap, and took off in the direction of the roar.

As the sound of her wingbeats faded away, the forest was encased in a sudden and suffocating silence.

A cricket chirped in the distance.

A lizard scurried out of the shadows, across the clearing and back into the darkness.

Cedar shuffled a bit, rustling some leaves.

A jaguar roared from far away.

"Awrk?" A small, very small voice cried from the hollow.

Cedar's gut wrenched.

Some bird let out a caw not too far away.

The branches creaked under the weight of the massive vines.

A frog began to croak somewhere nearby.

"Awrk?" It was softer this time.

The rainforest only responded with more white noise.

Drips and drops could be faintly heard all around as rain began to fall.

A long, painful silence.

"...Mramhy?"

Cedar fell to his knees and began to cry. He wasn't sure what the context of the tearjerking situation was, but somehow, what happened resonated in him. Here she was, not two hours old and she was already left in the dark and the rain with nobody. Like him, she was lost and all alone.

He knew he had to stay away, lest he possibly get mauled by the newborn dragon who was still almost his full height, but some part of him wanted to approach the hatchling and give her a warm hug, to tell her that everything would be okay, that she didn't have to suffer alone like he was. He thought about how he wanted to let her cry as long as she needed into his shoulder, to keep her company and giver her comfort until – if – her mother returned.

As these thoughts passed through his head, he heard a shuffling from the fern where the dragonet was hiding. In a flash of panic, he ducked behind a tree, out of sight. When he did, he heard a soft peep from the fern and more rustling. After a moment of calming himself, he moved back out from behind the tree, and dared to stare directly into the fern where the young dragon was hiding.

And peering back at him were two bright, green eyes.

He couldn't look away. He saw her, she saw him.

She was laying down on her stomach, her head low, almost as though she were about to pounce forward, though more relaxed. Her eyes were filled with emotions he couldn't describe; some sense of wonder, a hint of fear, and yet maybe a slight glimpse of understanding. And as he stared, he felt that same feeling from before; as if she was looking past him, and could read his mind.

Carefully, he took a few tentative steps out from behind the tree, fully revealing his presence to the dragon. She hardly reacted besides turning her head to face him, her tail gently wagging, as though expecting something. He kept standing there awkwardly, not exactly sure what to do.

"Uh… h-hi."

"Rrk." At this, the young dragon suddenly stood up, leaves falling off her back. Cedar stumbled, landing flat on his back, scooting backward up against a nearby tree. Now that she knew he was here, he couldn't escape, dragons were far faster and stronger than humans, even newborns.

The dragon sensed his obvious fear and began a more slow approach, one small step at a time, curving around him rather than going head on. The two kept eye contact the entire time, until the Nightwing found herself at his side. Cedar watched her nervously. Slowly, ever so carefully, she bent her head down and gently nudged his arm with it. He lifted it away in response, allowing the dragon to move closer and rest her head in his lap, cuddling against him.

Cedar was at a loss for words. As slowly as she was, he moved his free hand downward, his fingers barely grazing over her smooth, newborn scales, before eventually caressing her head fully. A low purr vibrated from her throat. He began to calm down; so she didn't want to kill him, she just wanted some company.

He immediately felt guilty. He shouldn't have thought her a savage killer. It was in her eyes; she was pure, innocent, carefree, very little unlike any human child.

He leaned his head back against the tree, exhaustion beginning to overtake him…

...Only for a droplet of water to smack him in the nose.

Cedar awoke with a start; that's right, it was raining. More droplets began to hit him and the Nightwing, who lifted her head up in confusion as well. She gazed upward, taking in all the sensations of the rainfall. The soft patter on the ground and against the leaves, the sudden drop in temperature, the water hitting her scales and washing down them. Then, a droplet hit her on the snout, too, as she blinked and looked down.

Cedar couldn't help but chuckle just a bit at her innocence. She turned to look at him, confusion written across her face. They couldn't stay out here in this weather.

He pointed to the fern hollow her mother had made. "We can stay in there until the storm passes," he spoke. He didn't expect her to understand, but shockingly, she rose from his lap with a brief "Rruk!" and darted under the hollow tree.

It was strange, he realized, how she seemed to understand everything that was going through his mind. He never doubted that dragons were intelligent creatures; it was hard to, with their massive castles dotting the land. But nobody, dragon or no, could be that understanding. Could they?

He noticed the rain pick up, and he rose from the tree to take cover under the fern with the Nightwing.

Once he had crawled under and made himself comfortable, his new dragon friend picked up a small pile of leaves in her talons. Before he could ask what she was doing, she tossed the pile upward.

Before the leaves could fall, she quickly snuggled up against Cedar and got into a sleeping position as the leaves settled atop of them. "Rmmh," she insisted.

She's trying to keep me hidden as well as her, he realized, brushing a leaf off his face. He rested a hand on her head again, before leaning his head back against the side of the hollowed-out trunk.

Sleep took him not long after that.

Hi, it's Mr. Doesn't-Log-Into-His-Account-For-Months-Then-Suddenly-Drops-A-3k-Word-Chapter-With-No-Warning.

I'll be honest, I had the intention of never returning to writing again. My old works were lame and painful to read, and I just wanted to let this place die. Then a stupid story idea hits my brain, I'm in love with it and here we are.

I'm also feeling sick as of the time I'm writing this, so I'm sorry if that had any effect on this chapter.

Some info:

1) This story prompt may seem boring, but I think it's pretty interesting. One, Moon's personality could be different depending on that of the scavenger, her common interest with Winter could have them get along better, ect.

2) If, on the off-chance you may or may not have enjoyed my previous works on this site, I'm sorry but I doubt I will be continuing them. In fact, if you're reading this, they're deleted by now.

3) I can't actually say for sure what's going to happen in this story or how it'll unfold. I know Winter and Bandit will be important, but that's about it.

Please tell me in your review how I could improve, or what you'd like to eventually see from this story. Thank you, and I'll see you when, or if, I make another one of these things.

EDIT (March 5th, 2019): Wow, I'm honestly amazed on all the positive feedback, thank you all very much! I am sorry, due to unforeseen circumstances I will not be able to work on chapter 2 for at least the rest of this week. I will also be unable to respond to any reviews until I do. On the bright side, I'll be able to spend more time planning out that next chapter until I get the opportunity to finally write again. Thank you very much for your patience and support!