The snow gradually receded from the mountain and its surroundings, allowing Wanderer a better look at the land beneath. It had a nice variety of environments, rocky cliffs leading down to long stretches of rough hilly fields and forests of spindly trees that were currently bare of leaves. Much of it was streaked with water, all converging on the river either directly or through the big lake at the bottom of the valley. There was prey to chase and an abundance of fresh water with fish to catch in it. This was, for all intents and purposes, absolutely perfect.

So why did he feel so reluctant to claim it? He could only think that this was one last lingering effect of the bad thoughts forced on him by that stupid queen. They of course had not been allowed their own territory then, and she'd had no intention of ever releasing any of them from her claws. Annoyingly, this wasn't something he could just shake off, it was a perpetual disbelief that he even could have territory.

A growl rumbled from his throat while he stared down over the land from the cave that was now their den. This was his territory, his and Dreamer's. He just needed to tell himself that until he believed it. Also, at some point, he needed to fly out and determine the boundaries of… their territory, how much of this land he considered his and whether there were any other Nightstrikers nearby. He'd thought he'd smelled… something… but no, as far as he could tell, this was unclaimed, there was nobody else here, and if there was then certainly someone would have come to warn them off or at least greet them while they'd feasted on all the fish swimming up the river.

Honestly, they had done little but eat and lie around for pawfuls of nights now. It was difficult not to, with how scarce prey had been in the cold-season; while it had never become desperate, they needed to build up some weight again after that. And the torrent of fish was slowing down, so they had to make the most of it.

He yawned, then scratched at his shoulder, claws catching on the frayed hide hanging off it. If it wasn't a den before, it certainly was now, his scent thoroughly permeating it. His and Dreamer's, though when their hide was clawed up like this there was almost no difference.

Dreamer warbled thoughtfully from his back in the middle of the den, using his teeth to peel a strip of hide from his foreleg. "This not much bad," he remarked. "Was bad when we fledglings, but now… feels maybe nice."

Huff. "That because I here for do this." He walked over to Dreamer, who then whimpered as he dragged his claws down the length of his torso, over the thick almost-shed hide. What was a lot of effort to do alone was a paltry task with assistance, and now that they weren't growing significantly with each cold-season it wasn't such a terribly uncomfortable process.

Not alone… He dropped a shoulder to lie on his back, next to his Dreamer. He still had some problems, Dreamer still had some problems, but he would never be alone again.


Dreamer had to admit, while he drifted over the mountain, he didn't really know what to do with territory once he had it. He knew a fair bit about housekeeping; plugging holes in the walls and roof, removing ash from the fireplace, occasionally oiling the hinges of doors and windows, cutting wood, keeping the food stocked, and a hundred other details that made themselves apparent when they weren't done.

But life as a dragon was not like life as a human. He didn't have hinges or a fireplace or floors or anything like that to need maintenance, the most they'd needed to do was collect their shed hides in a pile. Wanderer had wanted to just toss them out of the den, but Dreamer hadn't been able to bring himself to do it for some reason. For now, they were keeping them at the back until the first rain, to at least think about.

Perhaps his reservations on just throwing them out stemmed from what Viggo had been able to do with them. His hide had been used against him, in a roundabout way, so now he was wary of what happened with it. He'd probably end up burying it. Which seemed a shame, because it was Night Fury hide, but he was literally covered in it anyway.

He huffed into the wind blowing over the mountain range, his mountain range, and flapped a few times to build up some of the height and speed he'd lost in his daydreaming. The snow now only capped the north side of the mountain, the opposite side to their den, and even that noticeably receded with every new night. The extreme rush of water had subsided mostly into a single river from the lake, one that no longer had masses of fish swimming up it but did still host a variety of prey that seemed to take a more permanent residence.

Food wouldn't be a problem regardless. During their explorations last night, Wanderer had found a herd of land-prey, things that looked a bit like yaks but smaller and with much less fur. They had been in one of the forests a little way downstream, where the trees and a quirk of the shape of the land provided some shelter. Two Nightstrikers could probably survive off them indefinitely, even if there were no fish.

So water and food were not problems, and maintained themselves. Their den, a rough hole with a wide but not particularly tall mouth halfway up the mountain, was already comfortable and did not require heating. The entirety of their territory was just nature, raw and pure; though if he found any of those stupid stinging plants he was burning them out of existence.

Something caught his eye while he floated on the wind, suddenly demanding all of his attention – at the base of the northern side of the mountain shone a dim light, a faint glow against the dark rock. While he was vaguely aware of things existing in nature that could make light, other than dragons of course, he was very aware of what it was likely to be.

And it did not take more than a few moments of looking to pick out the patterns in the field around it, notice the unnaturally straight treeline where the forest had been cut back, and the uniform shapes up against the foot of the mountain that were the source of the glow. Their territory was clearly not as uninhabited as they had thought.

Dreamer folded his wings and dove, feeling a wide range of things that he wasn't ready to put names to yet. Before he could do that, he had to understand what this was.

The village was not large, by the standards of this land, maybe the size of Berk. Looked a bit like Berk too, structures built up the slope and spilling out over the flat ground below it… Actually, now that he was closer, maybe this was three or four times that size; it was tricky to compare when it wasn't its own island.

He slowed his descent well above the Long-Paw nest, extending his wings to drift on the wind – which was much warmer, at this lower altitude – and looked down on the low, rugged buildings and twisting paths. No, not paths… What had Johann called them? Roads, or something like that. He could see carts, obviously well-used given the state of them and the roads, strewn in front of and between buildings, and also congregated around a cave at the base of the slope. Some were even still trundling along, pulled by horses, while people milled around by torchlight.

The buildings themselves were interesting, built out of stone. Most looked constructed, but some smaller ones appeared to have been carved, the rock around and inside them hewn away. Between that and the cave, Dreamer surmised this was a mining settlement of some sort. A wide structure loomed at the top of it all, at the highest point of the nest, built at an angle upon the slope of the mountain. It looked grand, with large pillars, ornate trims, and a big front door, though some parts seemed to still be under construction.

As with many Long-Paw nests here, there was the central nest and then fields stretching off in all directions, though with the exception of up the mountain behind it in this case. Wells had been dug in the nest, and what looked like a few more dotted the fields. Most structures were ambiguous, but there was clearly a section for work buildings with more space and often open walls, and near that was what looked like a market. A wall was being built around it all, still far from completion.

So many things, all needed just to survive. Dreamer tossed his head, snorting out the faint scents that were floating up to him. It looked harmless enough, just a regular Long-Paw nest… not that he was much of an expert on them in this area to say.

He needed to tell Wanderer… but compared to him, Dreamer probably was an expert. Hrrr… What, exactly, was the threat?

Angling his wings, he banked out over the fields to get a different perspective. Looking at it from afar, it was clear why they had built here – the mountain protected them from almost half of any direction of attack. Behind them, the rock rose sharply, neglecting to provide any sort of path for an enemy to attack from, which they were clearly expecting if they were building a wall.

But that same slope divided them from his and Wanderer's den. The mountain range was not particularly tall for a mountain, but it was narrow and steep, particularly on this side. A slope some distance to the west could feasibly be climbed, but Dreamer happened to know that over that way was steep on the other side.

So there was no way for them to cross the mountain, to his den, lake, river, and prey, at least not in any number to pose any concerns. They were separated by maybe a mile of solid rock, and situated twice that far along the range. He had considered this side of the mountain his territory, and he still could, but honestly there wasn't really anything here that was not on the other side.

As for the people themselves… He drifted lower, back towards the nest, to get a better look. He had a feeling he would see more during the light, which of course carried the likelihood they would then see him in return, but their general demeanours did not shout 'dragon hunters' at him. He could see young following some of the adults as they travelled the roads. Most of the people looked tired, though a few were certainly drunk, but they lacked a certain confidence, the swagger of dragon hunters. They seemed harmless enough. And as he neared, a strange sound drifted up on the wind, a smooth melodic hum that regularly changed pitch, one that was calm and peaceful.

No, they appeared to be no threat whatsoever. The only issue was a little unease that they were chipping away at his mountain and taking his materials from it – whether that be iron or gold or whatever – but it wasn't as if he was doing anything with it himself. It was just the principle of the thing, even though they had clearly been here first.

But that thought was irrational, so he put it aside and focused on what really mattered. It was good to be aware they were here, but they were clearly no threat, so he beat his wings and began an arduous climb back over the mountain to report to his friend. He would live and let live, they couldn't get to him and he was going to stay well away from them.


The gentle light of the late spring afternoon spilled out over the fields and forests, a wonderful backdrop to the melody humming from the rock walls and down the streets. Dreamer lounged on a flat stone rooftop, basking in the lingering rays peeking around the slight curve of the mountain while he listened to the man play.

It was unlike anything else he'd heard. The strange sound, like the hum of a bowstring that seemed to fade in and out at will, had held in Dreamer's mind, eventually piquing his curiosity enough to chance another visit.

After all, it was fairly simple to swoop down with the slope of the mountain from the west, almost entirely hidden by the big building at the top of the village, and then navigate a path of alleys and shadows to reach this spot; it was nice to have some use for all the sneaking around he'd done fighting Viggo's hunters. Here, he was almost directly above the musician, in the light of the sky-fire, and against a somewhat taller building that hid him from anyone further up the nest. The only way it could be any better was if he could do away with the stink of Long-Paws, but that came with the territory.

This light, the music bouncing down the streets evoked feelings of grandeur, a slow but mighty build. And as it reached its zenith, it fell into a lively rhythm that any Viking would have appreciated as a backdrop to at least a moderate conquest. Dreamer quietly hummed appreciation, quashing his desire to try howling along – inconspicuity aside, he had no idea if Nightstrikers could sing, and absolutely no confidence to find out.

The song trailed off into a slow, sombre tune, the aftermath of the battle, and Dreamer whined under his breath as he stretched out on his side. This man really got it, understood that the glory of marching to a big and noble battle only left death and devastation in its wake. For all the enthusiasm for dragon training, for all the excitement of the raid, counting the dead and evaluating the damage was always a dark and sober duty, and the music captured that perfectly.

It trailed off with a slightly uplifting, almost hopeful rise. Wonderful… Who was this man, to play such music seemingly every light for the people of this nest? Was this common for this land? And what was it he was playing? Dreamer had only risked a look once, and knew he had a worn, bedraggled appearance with matted hair and dirty clothes, a little at odds with the people around him. He seemed to play by rubbing a stick against a thin, strangely shaped box held to his chest, producing an unfathomable result.

Between the mystery and the music, Dreamer was pulled back here every few nights. It was becoming riskier with the encroaching hot-season, but he could visit a few more times to listen; worst case scenario, they spotted him and he left, these people were barely a danger to themselves.

With the conclusion of the main song, Dreamer listened absently to the little songs he occasionally played, each only a pawful of life-beats long, until dusk began to give way to night. With the first of the sky-sparks, he rolled to his paws, yawned widely, and silently took flight.

The bustle of the nest faded into the wind behind him as he ascended, keeping close to the mountain and the wind blowing up it. By the time he reached the peak, night had well and truly fallen, bathing the land below in a pale light. His territory stretched out before him, the river flowing steadily into the distance, everything peaceful and tranquil and his, a concept that was only just beginning to sink in. It made him feel mature and responsible in a wholesome and satisfying way, even if he usually just felt like the kid who had claimed the loft.

He descended about halfway back down before barking at the top of his lungs, then pricked his ears for the reply; while he knew Wanderer always responded immediately, a pawful of life-beats passed before the faint response came from a field somewhere further down the river, a quirk of sound over distance.

It felt right, flying over his territory, satisfying in a way that Dragon's Nest had never been. Though to be fair, he had barely been adolescent back then, or a 'fireling' as it was known for Nightstrikers. Really, the whole maturity process was just very different for Nightstrikers, even compared to other dragons. He remembered these strange and wild urges, but it came so much earlier in Long-Paws. Or… later, if just counting the number of years involved. Earlier if taking into account Long-Paws' comparatively slow development.

A dark shape resolved in the field below, and Dreamer shook the thoughts from his head and rolled to swoop down on him-

His senses were assaulted the moment he touched the tall grass, and he reflexively snapped out his wings against the wind. Slowing so drastically sent him careening out of control, and moments later he had dropped to crash into the field, where he tumbled to a halt.

Not that he cared – he was more interested in the sweet aroma wafting from the grass, and rubbing his scales against it, which tumbling through it in the crash had contributed to so that was all well and good. Did it still count as a crash if it was better than not crashing? That had been a perfect landing, in his opinion. He purred at his good thinking and rolled onto his back, flaring his wings and writhing happily.

Something crashed through the field towards him, a small spike of adrenaline washing the fog from his mind to recognise Wanderer a moment before he lunged from the grass. "Dreeaamer," he yowled happily, jumping on top of him, then recoiled a little. "You smell like Long-Paw," he grumbled, licking at random.

"I hear good thing," Dreamer chirped, patting Wanderer's head. But his hindlegs were getting squashed, so he also tried to push him off. "Made me happy. Want do thing. Grrr, I hunt you. Get off."

"Not can hunt me if I still cleaning you," Wanderer growled, hastening his attempt to rid Dreamer of the apparently offensive scent.

Dreamer huffed, then scented his foreleg… Hrrr, yes, that did smell pretty bad, actually, He started chewing the paw-

Then yelped and wheezed as Wanderer bit his leg and leapt off, disappearing into the grass. "I get you for that!" Dreamer screeched furiously, flinging himself upright and throwing himself into the chase.


Dripping wet but cool and refreshed, Dreamer walked out of the lake and shook himself off. The hot-season was bringing with it longer lights, the sky-fire rising earlier and setting later, but he didn't really mind that, not here. They were well protected by the lay of the land, and the warm light felt nice on his scales.

Particularly after a dip in the cool lake. He held up a foreleg and started licking the water off it, purring quietly at the gentle light warming his back. Wanderer was probably asleep already, he seemed to be in a phase of waking up early, while Dreamer enjoyed feeling drowsy with this warmth. It was too tempting to just fall asleep here, but he wasn't quite that brazen; perhaps one light.

He was meticulous in his task, both because it kept him awake and because it was an excuse to stay up a little longer. By the time he was contorting around to reach his back – something that suddenly struck him as odd and somewhat amusing, to be able to lick his own back – it had already mostly baked dry. Hrrr, the weather was already somewhat warmer than it had ever been on Berk, but he didn't know how warm it would get.

Although, perhaps Wanderer was not asleep after all. Dreamer huffed, spotting the green eyes watching him from the nearby forest. What was-

He tensed so quickly he flipped himself clear of the ground and somehow landed on his paws, staring wide-eyed into the forest. Nothing. Only the trees, and a few shrubs wavering in the breeze. Had he imagined those acid green eyes, a slightly different shape and shade to the ones he knew so well? Or… had he really just seen…

He warbled wariness to himself and slowly walked towards the forest, eyes and ears sharp. Branches rubbed together in a few places, taking his attention anew each time in his hyper-focus, while the leaves rustled and the water gurgled where it flowed into the river.

The wind blew from behind him, carrying away any scents, but he had reached the treeline and would soon know, would be able to relax and write this off as his imagination…

His eyes dilated and a chill ran down his back as he reached the place, warm with a familiar and yet totally new scent, enrapturing for what it was almost as much as for how it seemed to cling to everything, so perfect and pure and feminine. He felt his legs go weak and didn't fight it, collapsing into the warm grass with a happy growl and then rolling to press his nose back to it.

Wanderer should know about this. His eyes flicked open, and then he scrambled to his paws and threw himself into the air, beating his wings with abandon to hasten to their den.

Questions flooded his mind, but he didn't even know enough to know what questions to ask. Shouldn't she have roared or something? Or was this normal? Perhaps males claimed territory and females roamed. He didn't know anything, and it was just bad luck he'd fumbled the encounter instead of having the more experienced Nightstriker there to handle it.

"Wanderer!" he barked, careening into the den and stumbling to a halt.

In an instant, Wanderer was alert and on his paws, crouched aggressively and baring his teeth – perhaps waking him by recklessly flying inside with a loud bark had not been intelligent. Really, he should have roared from halfway, or maybe even from the lake itself…

"What?" Wanderer barked impatiently, then narrowed his eyes at Dreamer. "Why you drooling?"

Why am I what? Dreamer blinked, then licked at the wetness clinging to his face. Stupid blasted instincts.

Wanderer growled, swiftly prowled towards the entrance to the den, took a quick scent of Dreamer on his way past, then froze in his tracks. He rounded on Dreamer, scenting over his shoulder and head… then raised a paw and whacked him with it. "Stupid!" he barked. "Why you here? Grrr, show me!"

Dreamer barked affirmative and flung himself out of the den, folding his wings into a steep dive towards the lake. A minute later, he hit the ground running and led Wanderer to where he'd seen her, then backed up to observe.

"She probably gone now," Wanderer huffed, scenting at the ground, drawn to where Dreamer assumed she'd been lying. Probably… watching him. It was a little creepy when he thought about it like that. Then Wanderer rolled in the grass, much as he had; it was good to know it was apparently some instinct or something, rather than just letting his urges get the better of him, as well as how silly it looked to an observer.

Wanderer jumped to his paws and started following the trail, nose avidly sweeping the ground. Dreamer followed behind, drawn to where her paws had carefully touched exposed tree roots and soft grass to move silently and swiftly. Grrr, why had he hesitated? He should have… done something. Chased her? This was why he wanted Wanderer to take the lead, he was so far out of his depth, needing an example to follow.

The trail led far, until it disappeared by a gap in the foliage. Was it his imagination, or was the scent stronger here, as if she had lingered? Wanderer flapped up into the air, and Dreamer followed to wheel around above the forest, scanning the sky. But she was gone; there was no tracking her through the air.

Wanderer keened quietly, and Dreamer echoed him. He really was stupid, to fly in the opposite direction like that. "Maybe she nests near?" he offered; maybe there was a way to make up for it, if they could find her.

"Maybe," Wanderer agreed. "We can search some. I not want sleep now." He then enthusiastically beat his wings and leaned into the wind. Dreamer almost split off to look in another direction, but on second thought, pulled up beside his friend, who didn't argue; the last thing he needed was to be caught out alone with her again.


Wanderer glanced across at his friend-mate as they flew, letting his attention drift from their searching. For the last pawful of nights, since their… visitor, Dreamer had been simultaneously clingy and withdrawn, almost solemn.

Though, that was understandable, in some ways. He had been surprised with the encounter and followed his first instinct to get help, while the mysterious female just slipped away. He blamed himself for it, in all likelihood, while realistically it was more complicated than that.

Wanderer churred uneasily to himself. Why hadn't this female announced herself? And if she had done this now, had he not been imagining things back when the snow had started to melt? That trace of scent, so faint it may not have been there at all… He wished he could give Dreamer all the answers, but he didn't know himself. This didn't fall into his understanding of how it all worked. They made a hopeless pair, but hopefully, between them, they could figure it out. How difficult could it be?

Surely not as difficult as finding her again. They were far from their den now, over unfamiliar land, hunting for her territory. She was mature, that was clear from the scent she had left, mature and alone, so it seemed likely she had territory nearby. But that could be anywhere within a night's flying or further, in any direction. Regardless, it was good to get an understanding of what was around their own territory, find any potential threats or competition.

"Why Long-Paws not nest on our river?" he asked curiously. They weren't going to, he wouldn't let them, but it was strange they hadn't already; they had claimed almost every other river and lake.

Dreamer blinked, snapping out of the daze he was in, and turned his head to look down the trail of water below. "Hrrr, not know. They do have nests, far along, but not here. Was thinking maybe too much water in river for warming-season, but maybe other reason."

Too much water sounded like a silly reason, but they were very silly creatures.

The flight lapsed into silence again until some time later, broken by Dreamer humming warily to himself. Wanderer followed his gaze, seeing the ground littered with the pointy things that Long-Paws sometimes used as dens. "Nest?" he asked; but that didn't seem right.

"No," Dreamer huffed, then paused to stare at the odd sight for pawfuls of life-beats. "Probably attacking other nest. They have rock-throwing-things." He dragged his gaze away to stare forwards, frills tense and a glint of teeth showing.

"She probably not nest here then," Wanderer said pragmatically, both to take Dreamer's mind off it and because it was true; the few good territories around here were already claimed by Long-Paws. He banked around, back towards their territory, and Dreamer followed. If they set a good pace, they might even make it back to their den before light.

A flash of movement caught his eye, below them, going in the other direction – after a moment to register, Wanderer dropped a wing to roll and not just dive but actually fly downwards for an exhilarating moment, picking up speed towards the forest below to reverse his direction and pulling up just barely shy of the trees. The shadow was flapping hard, ahead of him now, but he was a strong flier.

Whoever this was, had they been following him and Dreamer? He growled, resolving to catch up to them just to get some answers if nothing else. But they were fast, and the lead was not narrowing nearly as quickly as he would have liked.

As the three of them shot through the air, Dreamer's wingbeats a short distance behind, Wanderer noticed they were following in a gentle arc. This other Nightstriker was angling towards a nearby mountain, by his guess, taking the turn slowly.

He growled – if that's where they were going, they were probably going to get there first. He pushed his wings into flying faster, burning much more energy for a little more speed, straight towards it to cut them off. He could beat them there, or follow wherever else they went. They weren't getting away. They seemed to realise this, straightening their flight and levelling their wings, before sharply angling away.

Wanderer snarled, banking after them – but overcorrected to the feint as their flight suddenly snapped back to the mountain.

He hadn't lost much, but at these speeds, tiny details were everything. His wings already ached from the effort, and they'd clawed back some of their lead, so he eased off for the long flight and matched their pace. Even if they made it ahead of him, he would follow until they collapsed from exhaustion; he was strong, and tired of being toyed with.

Dreamer pulled up beside him, eyes wide but focused. "Is her?" he asked, and Wanderer grunted neutrally; he assumed it was, but he didn't know for sure.

She was aiming for a very particular place in the mountain, just above halfway up. There was a Long-Paw nest set into the base of it, but that seemed irrelevant. What was more important was the dark alcove that resolved in the distance, exactly where she was headed. "She know this place," he barked, flapping for speed again; he wasn't going to catch her, not now, but something told him the closer he could get the better.

Dreamer fell in behind but otherwise kept up while they all hurtled towards the rock beginning to loom over them. The shadow ahead vanished into the cave, flying straight into it, and Wanderer grit his teeth, then unleashed a sound-sight bark right before flying into it himself; the Long-Paws below them could burn, for all he cared right now.

The sheer wall of the cliff flashed in his mind, followed by an intricate cave network burrowed into it; she definitely knew what she was doing. He hit the short ledge running, fire screeching in his mouth to reveal the way towards the blurry shape ahead.

But these caves were unfamiliar, and there were splits almost every body-length in every direction, some needing to be jumped over. He could see her echo, and occasionally smell her now too, the same female as before, but she knew exactly where she was going. He did not, and the moment's hesitation at each turn left him further and further behind.

She suddenly vanished into something that was not there, leaping into a nothingness in the side of the tunnel – it took him a moment to realise it was outside, she'd led them around in a loop! He hesitated again, navigating the sheer multitude of paths in his mind to figure out the way, then raced through the turns and burst into a tunnel with a collapsed wall through which the night shone.

Frustration, he roared at the empty sky, trailing off into forlorn. She could be anywhere. Why was she hiding and running, like the other Nightstrikers had as he'd flown through their territory? It made him feel… broken, as if he was missing his tail-fin again but it was crippling his life instead of his flight. He slowly sank to his haunches, panting heavily, then whimpered to himself.

Sympathy, friend-mate, Dreamer crooned, nuzzling up against him, and Wanderer leaned into him. Broken, maybe, but not alone, not completely, never that. Gratitude, he purred back.

They sat there, staring out over the forest below with a hollow hope she would show herself again while they caught their breath. But Wanderer knew she was too careful for that. She would wait and watch, probably fly away the next night, or even during the light while he and Dreamer were likely to be sleeping. That could be either side of the mountain, and if she was careful, flying low to the ground, they weren't likely to see her from even this high up let alone from the peak.

"I will hunt," Dreamer announced, though he sounded weary. "Sky-fire will kindle soon, maybe should sleep here."

"We tired," Wanderer agreed. "I will hunt also." After all that chasing, he needed to catch something. "Maybe… she still is here. Can look next night, she will be tired also…"

"Not worry," Dreamer purred, rubbing up against him. "She find us two times already. I not know what she doing… but I think we will see her again. If not…" He snorted disdainfully. "Not want meet someone who not will even talk with us."

Wanderer purred, liking that way of thinking about it. Dreamer definitely had a talent for seeing things in the best way… even if he sometimes saw things in the worst way. Every flight had its updrafts and turbulence, he supposed. At least they were there to cover each other's weaknesses, so that the turbulence was not so bad. "We should hunt now, while still night," he rumbled, then hopped from the cave to look for prey, and Dreamer barked gleefully as he followed.


A couple of weeks passed with no sign of the elusive visitor, though Dreamer thought about her often. What did she want? And then why did she flee? It was a most perplexing puzzle, one with many missing pieces and not much of a picture to guess at.

He sighed, yawned, then stared blankly at the upside-down forest. His plan to nap hadn't gone so well, his mind refusing to slow down, though hanging from a tree by his tail was a pleasant way to relax. Things had become exciting for a while, with lots of flying and chasing, so he was appreciating the calm again now, the quiet.

With another yawn, he slipped from the branch and stretched out, arching his back, and lazily set off in the direction of the lake. A morning snack, then maybe he'd find Wanderer to do something mild, not too strenuous, before calling it a light and going to sleep for real. That sounded like a good idea… He felt too lethargic for-

He tensed with a short inhale at the distinct shape just within the treeline, then instinctively ducked as the unfamiliar Nightstriker's ear flicked his way a moment before her head swivelled to look. He was mostly hidden by a tree and the leafy vines wrapped around it, and with any luck…

The small part of her he could see through the leaves did not move, and he didn't hear anything. Tentatively, silently, he repositioned to get a better look, edging around the foliage.

She lay by a thick tree, peering around it at the lake. The first difference he noticed was her smooth back, devoid of the fins he and Wanderer had. Her ears were also slightly thinner, and… something about the shape of her hips was just wonderfully feminine. Her wings were tucked to her sides while she lay there, watching. Waiting… for him or Wanderer. Her long tail rested on the ground behind her, the tip flexing back and forth, the patient hunter.

Wrrr, she could not complain if he watched her in turn, surely. He wanted to go get Wanderer, and he would, but first he was going to observe for a bit just in case he alerted her by leaving.

Nothing changed for a long while, during which time Dreamer just took in her features. He could see the silhouette of her frills against the morning light over the lake, twitching with the sounds of the forest, and she occasionally moved her head a little to show him different angles. The trailing edge of her tail-fins were jagged, not smooth like the Lightstrikers', and he thought he could see the same of her folded wings. She looked relaxed, but her paws were under her, ready to move at an instant's notice. Overall, she looked strong and healthy, from what he could see of her.

He ducked down a little as her ear flicked again, but her attention turned up, towards the canopy. She tracked something moving, Dreamer soon noticing the butterfly flitting around with its chaotic movements. The female warily looked around, her piercing green gaze passing almost right over Dreamer where he hid, before turning her head back to the butterfly and standing without a sound.

She reared up and pawed at it, watching as it flitted around her claws. She glanced around again, then leapt around it, swiping all around the hapless insect but not actually hitting it, just letting it flail in the displaced air. It flew almost right at her, and she flinched away and fell onto her back in the grass, where she lay, her chest rising and falling with her breaths. The butterfly then landed on one of her outstretched paws.

Dreamer stared, transfixed… then blinked, and took the moment to slowly back away, while she had her guard down a little. He picked up the pace as he made distance, remaining as silent as he possibly could, until he was loping through the woods to leap off a rock and through a clearing in the canopy.

Once airborne, he immediately looked to where the female was hiding. No sign of her from here, of course, but with the rising sky-fire she would not easily escape by air, and they could track her on the ground. But she didn't yet have any reason to think anything was amiss…

Dreamer barked casually, a short sound conveying no urgency, but a note higher than usual. Wanderer did not keep him waiting long, flying down from the mountain and pulling up next to him, eyeing him warily. "Not look now," Dreamer hummed, "but she is here. Where she was watching when she first come here."

Wanderer's eyes widened, understanding and appreciation flicking through his gaze, which then hardened.

No further words were needed. Dreamer led him out over the forest a ways, just in case she was watching, before swooping down and skimming the treetops back to the clearing to drop into it and land in a run. He'd kept an eye out, she hadn't flown yet, and with any luck…

He slowed as they neared, sensing Wanderer beside him but unable to hear him. She was downwind of the lake again, which happened to mean they were downwind of her, so she had no way of knowing they were creeping up on her.

Dreamer stifled his inhale this time, upon seeing her again. She was back to watching the lake, patient and still. Though Dreamer still didn't know what it was she was actually hunting.

Wanderer exhaled quietly, his wide eyes on her, then gestured with his snout and began silently stalking around her. Dreamer caught the hint, falling into their old hunting routine and quietly circling around the other way, letting his friend take the lead.

A twig snapped behind him, which he was certain was intentional, and he met her gaze coolly as she spun around, glancing between the two males partially encircling her. Wary, she growled, backing out of the treeline, towards the lake.

It took all of Dreamer's control to keep moving slowly and surely. Internally, he was terrified of messing things up again – here was a wild Nightstriker, the second he had ever seen, and a female at that. Her eyes were a slightly deeper shade, a little more rounded at the edges, gaze darting between him and Wanderer with every heartbeat. Her teeth weren't bared, but she remained carefully poised, alert and prepared. Even if he knew what to say, he was entirely uncertain that anything he tried to say would even be coherent, besides which Wanderer was also remaining silent.

He and Wanderer matched her steps, until all three of them were out in the open. It felt almost as if they were cornering her, but she had been spying on them multiple times, following them, so it felt justified.

The female huffed quietly, then spread her wings and leapt into the air; not hurrying, not fleeing, just as if taking flight because she felt like it. Dreamer shared a look with his friend, then followed her up, ascending steadily into the bright morning sky.

A shiver worked its way down his back as he watched her, and she watched him and Wanderer, all circling and weaving around each other as they ascended to the clouds. She was not fleeing, she was… testing them, or something, an opening move of introduction. There was a hallow static in the air, an instinctive taboo against interrupting the steady rhythm of their wingbeats while they flew.

She levelled off, Dreamer fumbling his flight a bit so that he did not overshoot, and they hovered there in a circle for a few wingbeats, high above the ground. Then, with a flourish, the female rolled her body into a dive, and Dreamer could only follow suit with enthusiasm, purring under his breath as she slowed for a moment to allow them to catch up.

Her sub-wings tensed, and Dreamer angled his own, adding to the chorus of screeches as they hurtled towards the ground. He kept his gaze on her, ready to follow whatever she did next, while she stared at the both of them, her expression unreadable.

She brought them down to the coarse, rocky sand by the river, landing with strong, fluid strokes of her wings before carefully sitting on her haunches. Wanderer landed in front of her, a few body-lengths away, and Dreamer landed a short distance behind him; he didn't entirely feel part of this, he only wanted to observe, but at the same time it didn't feel right to be any further away right now. Silence prevailed while they all sat there and stared expectantly at each other.

Just before it started getting awkward, the female huffed, sitting a little taller and proudly lifting her head. With a swift and smooth motion, she stood and turned to the side, flaring her wings out in front of herself, then lifted them straight up and pranced around in a circle, light and nimble on her paws. She then lay on her chest, staring confidently at Wanderer, expectation heavy in her gaze.

Wanderer hesitated… then looked over his shoulder at Dreamer, eyes wide and uncertain.

What are you looking at me for!? With a horrible sinking feeling, Dreamer realised Wanderer probably knew as much – or rather, as little – as he did.

Wrrr… If in doubt, mimic. He tipped his snout towards her and flicked his wings, just do what she did. Wanderer warbled confidence, turning back to her and lifting his wings… then flapped them once and sat there.

Dreamer put a paw over his face, hoping not to hear her flying away. It wasn't as if he was one to criticise behaviour around females, but still. When he chanced a peek, Wanderer was staring helplessly back at him again, and the female was licking her chest, ignoring them.

It didn't seem that difficult. Dreamer glanced at her, took a deep breath, then turned and flared his wings out in front of himself before stretching them straight up and slowly turning a full circle. He didn't quite prance as she had, he could show he was light on his paws but had more strength to demonstrate in a powerful stride. That was what this was, of course, demonstrating wingspan, showing himself off. He felt exposed without his wings covering his sides, laid bare in an exhilarating way-

He finished his circle and startled to find her eyes locked to him and alight with interest as she prowled straight past Wanderer, who was still staring helplessly. Noooo no no no, not me, go for him! Dreamer backed up a step, desperately trying to redirect her attention without her noticing, as hopeless as that was.

Wanderer suddenly leapt away, towards the forest, which only distracted her for a moment. She walked right up to Dreamer, leaning in to scent him, and he hesitantly scented her in reply, just to be polite. He already knew her scent, of course, but here it was so strong, so warm, so fresh, and she was so close…

Both of them turned with their ears up as there was a crack from the trees, and Wanderer came bounding out a moment later with a long branch in his mouth and a gleeful expression on his face that was simultaneously reassuring and concerning. He bounded out over the coarse not-sand and drove the end of the stick into it, then started dragging.

No way… Dreamer stared, dumbfounded, as Wanderer bounded around the shore, dragging his stick with him and occasionally patting down places with his paws and tail. He was finished remarkably quickly, standing off to the side and tossing the stick away to look over his work with a satisfied huff. Impressed as he was, Dreamer put his paw over his face again with a quiet groan; we did this totally backwards.

Curiosity, interest, the female warbled, and Dreamer sighed relief as she walked away from him to inspect the drawing. A Nightstriker face was not an easy first drawing, and he'd made a passable attempt, it was easily recognisable. Impressed, the female crooned, walking around it towards Wanderer, and then Dreamer sighed again as she exchanged scents with him too.

She took a sudden step back. "You are," she said slowly, turning to include Dreamer in the statement as she shattered the sacred silence, "blood-kin…"

Wanderer flinched. "Yes," he reluctantly agreed. "But we have been through much. Fought together much. For much time," he stared at Dreamer, "we only have each other."

The female's tail flexed back and forth as she regarded them, and then she took a deep breath and sighed. "Maybe that not matter," she said quietly, "I not seen other Nightstrikers for four cold-seasons…"

"We fly through territory of some," Dreamer said sadly, "but they not answer us…" But to be completely alone for four years? That had to be awful, and didn't instil confidence in the strength of their species. "I am Dreamer," he introduced himself, now that they were talking civilly and to move them away from that dreadfully depressing topic.

"Wanderer," his friend introduced himself, flaring his wings a little.

"I am…" She paused for a thoughtful moment. "Fleeting," she seemed to decide; he couldn't precisely translate the name to Norse, but it was close enough.

"You are swift," Dreamer agreed, thinking wryly of how she'd shown up only to flee. "You have territory near?"

"I not have territory," Fleeting declared. "I did, but… was lonely…" Her ears drooped with that… then swept back, her eyes narrowing on Dreamer and Wanderer. "You interest me, but you are strange. I need to think." With that, she leapt across the beach and out over the river to take wing, then sharply banked around and quickly disappeared from sight over the trees. She would be easy to follow in the bright morning light, but they let her go.

Dreamer gazed after her, an odd mix of elation, anticipation, and dreadful worry all making him tense and jittery. He almost jumped when the ground crunched under Wanderer's paws as he walked over, also staring at the blue sky with tense wings. "She will come back," Dreamer hummed confidently. She was too curious not to.

"Yes," Wanderer agreed, then yawned. "Is very late, should try sleeping… but…"

"Yes, after that, I not know if I can sleep… We found another Nightstriker… Female Nightstriker… Wrrr, she found us. But she not see other Nightstrikers for much time. I…"

Understanding, Wanderer crooned. "I not like that also… I not want think we maybe not find others…" He sighed, nervously shaking out his wings. "Come, try sleep. I will groom you." He glanced after her one more time while Dreamer purred at that thought. "I hope she will be good mate for us." He took off in the direction of their den while Dreamer chuffed agreement, stretching his own wings-

Before tripping over his own paws and nearly landing on his face. "Wait, what!?"


Wanderer yelped as sharp claws dug into the base of his tail and leg, dragging him down to hit the ground before he could get any lift; for how loose this not-sand was, it still made for a very hard surface to land on.

He wheezed, stunned, then flinched from the bark in his ear. "What I do?" he asked groggily, trying to blink away the spots over his vision, then pushed himself to his paws and gave his head a shake.

Dreamer was staring at him with wide, wild eyes, body tense, ears and frills twitching erratically and tail lashing behind him. "For us?" he barked.

"Yes…?" Wanderer rumbled, pawing at his head and wondering how hard he'd hit it. "We are friend-mates. Nest together." What exactly was the fuss over? His thoughts were slow to come, partly for all the revelations he had just experienced, partly for all the excitement of this morning, and partly because it was getting very late.

"I not know we looking for mate for us!" Dreamer barked hysterically. "I thought we looking for you! Why you not tell me!?"

Wanderer pawed at his ear, then at Dreamer, who swatted him away. "I need also explain night comes when sky-fire falls?" he asked dryly. "We nest like Long-Paws."

"Long-Paws not nest like this!" Dreamer almost screeched, and Wanderer growled warning at him; getting hysterical wasn't helping anyone. "Only one sire, one dam," Dreamer said at a more reasonable volume, though not much calmer. "Not… more!"

"No," Wanderer disagreed slowly, "I smell more mates on many Long-Paws in your nest." Come to think of it though, there had been a fair few with only one as well, he just hadn't thought anything of it. Building a nest could take time.

"That not…" Dreamer growled, then started pacing. "Sometimes, if not enough males, they maybe… have more than one female. After that bad nest attacked, they needed do that, needed… make more for nest. But that not is normal." He glanced at Wanderer, then winced, probably seeing the next objection in his expression. "Some females… also males… not stay with their mate. Might… mate with others. Grrr, they not should do that."

"I surprised they can do that!" Wanderer couldn't even comprehend mating with someone who was not his mate. How did that even work? "Long-Paws very strange."

"Maybe," Dreamer huffed. "But you always say your sire, dam! How many you had?"

Wanderer winced a little. "Not… think like that. Two males were my sire, three females were my dam. I had good family…" Dreamer still looked confused and scared, so Wanderer huffed and shuffled on his haunches to get comfortable. "Not worry," he crooned soothingly, "is good thing. When we need hatch again, we always will have sire, also dam. Also can be hatchling with other hatchling for play with, even if no eggs.

"What Sire say, hrrr… Is… also good for mixing blood… but I not really know what he means. But is good for have hatchlings with different mates." Really, it was stymying them to share the same body, but he wasn't giving Dreamer up for anything, and his instincts weren't protesting. "Hrrr, also I not want try taking female alone in cooling-season. Females… need much attention." Somehow, Dreamer's eyes got even wider at that.

Wanderer tossed his head with a huff. "Maybe you thinking like Lightstrikers, I think they only have one mate. I not like their way, our way better. What Rising would do if Breaker get hurt, need hatch again?" He honestly didn't know the answer to that. Would she hatch again with him? And who looked after them? Or did they not mind waiting for each other to mature again? It was very uncomfortable to think about.

Wrrr, Dreamer was doing his Dreamer thing again, standing there in a daze. "You thinking too much," Wanderer growled, swatting at him. "Come, try sleep. You maybe feel better next night." Either way, Wanderer was going to get him back for dragging him out of the air like that. He took a tentative step towards their den, then leapt up into the air, and Dreamer stiffly followed behind.