Awareness...
Thump-thump thump-thump
Sensation…
Thump-thump thump-thump
Warmth…
Thump-thump thump-thump
Movement? A steady swaying. Slight occasional pressure. Sleep.
More pressure, closer, firmer, cramped. A brief wriggle – better, comfort.
Thump-thump thump-thump thump-thump
Awake again. Chest aching.
Thump-thump thump-thump
Need… something. Anything. Stop the burning.
Thump-thump thump-thump
Movement, pressure – push back. No, not back. Out. Push out.
A sudden release – cold! An involuntary breath, the burning fades. More breaths. Warmth from within fighting off the cold. An unfamiliar sense – dim light assaulting new eyes as they blearily force themselves open and closed. A cry from within, an echo from without.
Another ache, lower this time. Hungry. Instincts take charge and nostrils flare. Something… edible. Bits disappear between sharp teeth. Content. A warm, comfortable, leathery wall to rest against. Sleep.
Chirp
What? Something nudged his face, and he woke to find a dark face with big green eyes filling his vision. He shakily rose to his paws, and the eyes followed. Chirp! A tongue assaulted him and knocked him over again. He chirped back, purring and relaxing into the attention.
Hungry. He rose to his paws to follow his nose again and tore apart meat and fat to placate his growling stomach.
Sated and exhausted, he found a leathery black nook and went back to sleep.
Sleeping, eating, building strength. Dark to light to dark.
He woke to light spilling from the horizon to feel something else, something new – curiosity. He stared at his paws and forearms. He smelled them. Something moved in his peripheral and he lunged for it, but it slipped away. He stretched the limbs protruding from his back and sniffed them too.
Sound caught his attention, another like him was standing, facing the light and flexing wings. He approached the other and sniffed, which caused it to jump, which caused him to jump. It chirped and cooed and danced around him, so he playfully lunged at it. They wrestled until they couldn't move from exhaustion, and then simply lay next to each other listening to their panting.
He crooned happily and felt the other sidle up to him, where they stayed until they caught their breath.
Hungry. The other seemed to agree, together they found their meal and tore away the unappetisingly fuzzy layer to consume their fill. The meals were starting to smell wrong, but they still filled his belly. He fought off the wave of drowsiness and returned to exploring, running his nose along the cold ground and pushing it into cracks in the wall. He sniffed the small trickle of water they'd been lapping at for drink and took in the myriad of smells from outside, all familiar now but still mysterious.
Another movement in his peripheral, but it again slipped away when he lunged for it. He kept up the chase, trying to catch this thing that seemed intent on taunting him from behind, but it was very fast. He held still in a low crouch, waiting for it to reappear…
A different movement caught his attention, a small black thing meandering along the ground, and he crept up to stare at it with wide eyes. It was a little smaller than his paw, and had a rounded black shell and lots of spindly little legs to carry it. It scuttled this way and that seemingly without direction. He poked the scuttling-thing with a claw and it tried to scurry away, but he was much faster! He put himself in front of it and growled, delighting in how it ran away from him.
It scuttled towards the light outside and he again got in its way, but rather than turn around, it climbed onto his foreleg. He panicked and flicked it off, then leaped over and batted it for good measure. It stopped scuttling. Morosely, he sniffed at it; the shell was now cracked, and the legs twitched and waved uselessly. The now not-scuttling-thing actually smelled somewhat tasty, and it disappeared between his teeth.
His tiredness very suddenly caught up with him and he just dropped where he stood, curling up a little and drifting straight off to sleep.
He never saw the forlorn look that had been following him.
"Play!" He bounded to catch up to the other-like-him and lunged at it, but it sidestepped and let him crash into the course sand. "Play?" The other just trudged along, its head low and only occasionally glancing around.
He gave up and fell in behind. They had been walking through sand and undergrowth for much of the dark and he was hungry and weary, but stronger than that was his boredom. Everything was waterlogged from the rain during the light, which gave them plenty of fresh little puddles to drink from, but muffled and confused the surrounding smells which he quickly lost interest in. Everything just smelled wet.
Water that smelled thickly of salt washed up to his paws and left a dark stain on the sand after receding. Movement caught his eye – a bubble? He tilted his head and moved closer to investigate, sniffing curiously at the sand. There was something there…
He clawed at the spot until he unearthed the source, a green scuttling-thing about the size of his head and with many legs. It righted itself and waved a pair of limbs in the air at him. He walked around it for a different angle, but it kept turning to face him.
He sat back on his haunches and raised his forelegs in imitation. The scuttling thing didn't react. Confused, he dropped back down and reached out to touch one of the limbs, but jumped back with a yip when the thing lunged at him.
The other was next to him moments later, and the thing reared a little higher to encompass them both in its waving. The other backed up, then leaped into the air and brought its weight down on the thing to split it open with a sickening crack.
He shied at the sudden violence, but then the smells hit his nose and he was drawn in to share, licking the meat out of the hard shell and crunching up the smaller pieces. They both licked their chops and sniffed for scraps. Maybe there are more?
Eyes sharp, he padded along the water's edge and watched the sand when the waves receded. There! He barked and bounded to the bubble, then stepped over and sat behind it. The other followed him and they stared until another bubble surfaced.
"That!" he shouted happily. The other tilted its head at him, but understood as soon as the next scuttling-thing was dug up.
Looking between the thing and the other, who looked at him expectantly, he realised that he would need to get this one himself if he wanted to eat. Alright then… He backed up and crouched low, eyeing his prey warily as the other warbled encouragement.
He sprung into the air, but misjudged the consistency of the sand and pitched a little to the side to only land a glancing blow. The scuttling thing immediately reached up-
Pain erupted in his foreleg, and the other's tail waved in great amusement as he yipped and thrashed, sending the thing skidding across the sand. He licked at the pain; while it didn't appear to be really hurt, it seemed to confirm the hurt to his mind and the pain receded.
A growl rose unbidden in his throat at the scuttling thing. One of its limbs and some of its legs were splayed uselessly, and he lamented not realising about the pincers before. This time he got a little running start, so the sand didn't surprise him, and successfully crushed the thing.
The other roared with him at his success, and he was left to enjoy it by himself. When he finished and caught up, the other was just finishing off another.
They resumed walking, keeping an eye out for more bubbles whenever they walked on sand, until finally the other seemed to find what it was looking for. Up a short rise on a small beach was a cave, smaller than their last, with good shelter and a rivulet of clear fresh water that ran down near one side.
Too exhausted to explore and overwhelmed from the night's journey, they collapsed in a pile together, and succumbed to sleep.
His head was tilted in confusion. The other was sat on its haunches, gesturing to itself and making peculiar sounds.
"Wanderer. Wanderer."
He didn't understand, and repeated the sounds. "Wanadarr?"
The other perked happily and patted its chest. "Wanderer."
He patted his chest and repeated, "Wander."
The other huffed, swiping a paw to the side, then stepped forward to put its nose to his shoulder. "Dreamer."
Dreamer understood, if not the meaning of the words themselves. He patted his own chest, "Dreamer," then the other's chest, "Wanderer."
Wanderer tackled him with a happy roar and they tumbled around the floor of their den. Dreamer broke free and shook himself. He wanted to know more! He bounded over to the water and pointed at it.
Gurgle. "Water."
He was so excited that by the time he learned the next thing he'd forgotten the last, but Wanderer seemed happy to humour him and he got better at repeating the sounds. He was trying to ask what the scuttling things were when Wanderer padded up and just solemnly leaned against him.
Dreamer wasn't sure what to make of it, especially after Wanderer started warbling and mumbling incomprehensibly, but caught his mood and draped a wing over him. He was strange, this other… Er…
"Dreamer this, Wanderer this?"
Wanderer chuffed then made some sounds, and Dreamer made certain to commit them to memory.
This other Nightstriker was a strange one.
Dreamer was hungry. Again. Or, perhaps, still? He couldn't remember not being hungry as he prowled the beach for more scuttling-things, but he'd hunted them out many, many nights ago and now rarely found more. Every night, Wanderer flapped and scrambled his way up the cliff to disappear over it and would often return with food, but not enough.
The embers of the sky-fire were beginning to light the sky above, so Dreamer dejectedly returned to the den. On his way he saw Wanderer glide in and wait for him, and as he got closer he could see he was holding something in his mouth.
Wanderer set down the rock-like objects and gestured to them. "Egg." He pressed down on one and it cracked open, spilling its gooey contents onto the smooth stone.
The smell was amazing, and Dreamer desperately lapped it all up and made short work of the second.
While he was doing that, Wanderer was sniffing at his body and wing joints, but politely waited until the eggs were gone before batting him about the head. "Wings!" He stretched his own wings and flapped a few times to demonstrate.
"Hungry!" Dreamer snapped back at him. The eggs had taken the edge off though, so he dutifully stretched out his wings and made slow flapping motions. What used to tire him in moments was slowly getting easier, and he did enjoy feeling the air beneath them. If he closed his eyes he could almost expect to just float away on the light breeze…
With a satisfied huff, Wanderer padded off to get a drink and then splayed out in the middle of the den. Dreamer joined him when he couldn't keep his wings up any longer, and the two lazily tried to bite each other's legs in a mock fight. It ended when Wanderer, the slightly larger Nightstriker, dropped his weight over Dreamer, who decided he no longer wanted to move anyway. The weight was comfortable and warm, and quickly lulled him to sleep.
He was hungry the next night too, and spent much of it gnawing on a piece of driftwood that he'd dragged out of the rain, but the night after that Wanderer proudly carried in a plump wing-prey and announced it was all for Dreamer. Staring at the generous meal with his mouth watering, Dreamer couldn't remember the last time he'd seen so much food. Actually, he couldn't remember much of anything right now, the tantalising scent of fresh blood was filling his head.
He ripped away feathers with teeth and claws in a messy haste and tore off large lumps of meat, almost choking a few times. The wing-prey was huge, but by the time he was done all that remained was some of the larger bones and the feathery skin. He was busy scraping off the last morsels of fat when Wanderer returned; Dreamer hadn't even noticed him leave.
"Wanderer!" He hastily licked his claws clean and bounded to the other Nightstriker. "Teach fly!" His wings snapped out and gave a hard flap, which sent him staggering back a few paces.
Wanderer perked and hummed happily. "Wings, then sleep, then fly."
"Fly! Fly! Fly!" Dreamer shouted with his wings as he chirped and bounced around the den.
He got a little lesson on the ground while he exercised, Wanderer nudging his wings, tail, tailfins, and sub-wings into position, then had him relax and return to the position over and over and over until he was ready to collapse. The sky-fire was flying when they succumbed to slumber in a warm, purring heap.
First to rise was Dreamer, feeling energetic and strangely not at all hungry. He nuzzled and licked Wanderer, then barrelled over him when there was no response. "Hey! Fly!"
Wanderer groaned when sharp teeth bit into his ear, then groggily rolled to look outside. "No. Fly when… dark…" The last words were slow and lethargic as he nodded off again.
With an indignant huff, Dreamer thoroughly stretched all his joints, and then took to pacing at the mouth of the den. He had so much energy but if he burned it all now he wouldn't be able to fly later. He willed himself to patience, leaning on the hunter instincts buried within him, and focused on the wind caressing his head.
The water sloshed and burbled as little waves rolled up over the sand, and the darkening sky held only light clouds that promised no rain. What will it be like, to soar through those white towers? A pawful of wing-prey passed overhead, returning from sea presumably towards their nests above. Nests that, in the dark, would be filled with meat and maybe eggs. Though he was still full, Dreamer's mouth watered.
The gentle decline stretched out in front of him in the low light. He looked down. He looked at his wings. He looked down again. There was maybe two or three body-lengths of rock, then a gentler decline of sand. Am I really going to do this?
He was a little startled when a light gust caressed his open wings. Giddiness rose in his chest, and before he could have second thoughts he took a running start and bounded into the air. He held his legs as if to keep running down the rock, just in case, but the ground just fell away below.
This was nothing like exercising, his wings strained to hold his weight and every twitch of every muscle shook him in the air. He fought to keep as still as possible, and too late saw the ground rising to meet him. His forelegs were still stretched out, but he was pitched too far forward and face-planted into the loose sand. It didn't abate his excitement – the wind had carried him! He did a little prance in celebration on the beach before running back up to try again.
This time he tucked his legs in after jumping, and made it a little further before nosediving again for another face full of bitter sand. Now he understood what he was doing wrong. On the third attempt he tilted his tail up a little bit, feeling it adjust his pitch. He made it much further, but when he landed he still fell forward into the sand. Maybe his legs needed to get stronger?
Wanderer finally emerged as the embers of the sky-fire burned out, blearily rubbing his eyes and cleaning his face, just as Dreamer was getting comfortable enough to make slight turns by adjusting his tail. Already bounding back up, Dreamer tackled him with a playful growl.
He nipped and batted at Wanderer while he had the advantage, then disengaged as the sleepy Nightstriker came to his wits. Wanderer shook himself, then tasted the air with his nose and eyed Dreamer suspiciously.
Dreamer bounced excitedly a few times and then bounded into the air, a little shaky in his glide but much smoother than his first run, though he still ended up in the sand. He returned to an excited, approving Wanderer.
"See." Wanderer jumped out and flapped for a little altitude, then slowly coasted back to the den. Right before he hit the ground, he tilted his tail to pitch back and flared his wings to catch the air. His back legs took the brunt of his remaining momentum and his front legs soaked up the rest.
Dreamer slumped. That was so easy; here he'd been eating sand for nothing. He immediately leapt off the rock again – he didn't quite pitch back far enough on his first attempt, and it was jarring, but he kept his head off the ground. Yes! He did another celebratory dance before trotting back up.
The next task was to learn how to turn; belatedly, Dreamer realised it wouldn't do well to fly out to sea with no way back. Thankfully, a simple turn was very easy, all he had to do was adjust his wingtips to tilt and his wings reflexively pitched back for height to leave him in a graceful bank. Unfortunately, between the slight loss of momentum and the new angle of the slope, he found the ground a lot faster and couldn't level out in time. His rear end spun as he touched down and threw him onto his back.
He grumbled at the amused chortling coming from above as he shook sand out of his ears, and made his way back up.
To do more he needed altitude. Wanderer had him start gliding, then do a single gentle flap just to see how it felt. He wobbled wildly in the air and the little lift he managed was lost by the time he got his wings back into position, but he landed without incident. He was much more confident on his second attempt and actually accomplished a little height.
However, while the stints of gliding had set a pleasant burn into his wings, flapping quickly drained his strength. Dreamer had one last try left, in which he was determined to make a last leap of progress. He bounded into the air, flapped with all his strength, and then again – with a start, he suddenly found himself above the water, much sooner than he'd expected.
He somehow committed to both a third flap and a turn at the same time. Both actions separately would have seen him back safe and dry, but he failed to combine the two and rolled into the water with a panicked cry. It wasn't deep and he was able to quickly scramble to his paws, spluttering, but salt stung in his nose and the water was cold! He'd also landed on his foreleg, which ached a bit.
Clearly concerned, but not enough to get wet himself, Wanderer was pacing along the waterline. When he was sure Dreamer wasn't hurt, he started bouncing and they shared a little celebration prance.
"Tired," Dreamer huffed, and made his way back up with Wanderer at his side. He flopped just barely inside the mouth of the den, then stretched out and purred as a firm tongue assaulted his aching muscles.
Wanderer paid particular attention to his painfully sore shoulders, wings, and tail, and enough over the rest of him to clear the salt off. Dreamer was reduced to a rumbling puddle on the cool rock, vaguely aware of an affectionate nuzzle and a quiet flap before being left alone.
He felt really, really good. The burn in his muscles had simmered down to a warm, comforting ache, and his scales felt clean and cool. His mind seemed to be sliding around his head, like the ground was floating away…
Dreamer groggily blinked himself awake to the early onset of hunger; he must have dozed off. It was still dark, and there was no telling how long he'd been out. He stretched and considered going flying again but settled with just slowly flapping his wings without getting up. He wasn't sore, but the weariness was yet to wear off.
He purred loudly to the empty den. With a treatment like that before the sky-fire flew, he would sleep like a rock. His chest tightened as he realised Wanderer wasn't sleeping properly; he would occasionally thrash himself awake or keen in his sleep, and then drag himself up when the sky-fire burned out.
Then his heart sank as he then realised how much Wanderer had done for him, was doing for him, and Dreamer hadn't really contributed anything. Wanderer was perfectly capable of surviving on his own, Dreamer would last as long as his last meal. Yes, he was learning to fly so they could hunt together, but actually flying was still a ways off and then Wanderer would have to teach him hunting too.
He had a lot to think about.
The sky outside the den was quite blue by the time Wanderer returned, empty-pawed. Dreamer gave him a warm welcome anyway, purring and nuzzling into his neck and chin, but Wanderer shied away. Not discouraged, Dreamer wrapped his forelegs around the Nightstriker's neck and pulled him to the ground, rubbing into him and purring louder.
Wanderer put up with the treatment for a little while, but then pushed him off and ambled over to the water. After a quick drink, he lay down again a short distance away, resting his head on his paws with his wings tucked to his sides.
Dreamer wasn't giving up. He padded over and put his nose to work; Wanderer smelled strongly of exertion, foliage, dirt, and a single furred creature he must have caught and eaten. Dreamer pushed down the pang of hunger that cried in his stomach, and licked at his friend starting on his back between his wings.
Shrugging him off, Wanderer warned him away with an annoyed bark, but Dreamer just batted his head a few times. "Stupid," he muttered at him, and kept licking.
There were no further complaints as he did his best to reciprocate, feeling the tension melt under his tongue, and a low purr gradually reached his ears. When Dreamer finished with his back and wings, a small nudge was all that was required to roll Wanderer bonelessly onto his side so the rest of him could be reached.
Dreamer stepped back and smirked at the Nightstriker before him, now completely relaxed and with purrs sliding into the rhythm of sleep. He curled up between the splayed legs, and Wanderer curled around him. They both slept soundly that night.
Muscles tense, long silent breaths, staying perfectly still and blending into the shadows of the ferns bobbing in the light breeze. Dreamer's claws gripped the loamy ground, his hungry eyes locked onto the target, a hairy, stocky land-prey foraging in the dirt. Some of these land-prey had long, dangerous tusks, but this one had short blunt nubs, though being bigger than even Wanderer it still posed significant threat.
Ears automatically made minute adjustments to keep track of the other land-prey in the area; if one stumbled on the him, the whole pack would charge and the Nightstrikers would go hungry again. It was surprisingly difficult to catch wing-prey, the trees protected their nests and perches, and even the young were now nimble enough to dart to safety.
Dreamer hadn't eaten in two nights, but the aches and weariness expected from such had vanished in the hunt and were replaced with an intense focus and hyper-awareness. If these land-prey could be taken down, he and Wanderer would eat much better, and his body seemed to know it.
Even with his excellent night vision and hearing, Dreamer had no warning when a shadow crashed into the quarry from above, but wasted no time in bolting out from under the ferns. Sound erupted from the forest as the rest of the rest of the prey-pack fled from the warning, danger shouts of the land-prey. Perfect.
It only took him two leaps to reach the thrashing quarry. It was rearing back to try to reach the assailant on its back, but Wanderer had clamped his teeth down on the back of its thick neck and dug his claws in firmly. Dreamer was under it in an instant, and the world slowed down. He could see the land-prey preparing to roll onto its assailant, saw Wanderer's claws pull at the shaggy beast to better expose its neck.
Dreamer was moving without thought, clamping his teeth down on the bared throat – this time, on their third attempt at this hunt, his teeth found purchase and shredded through the flesh, and the taste of blood blossomed in his mouth through the dirty fur. With a twist, using the momentum from his lunge, the flesh in his mouth tore free and the land-prey's startled bellow cut off.
Though it had seemed longer, the whole attack was over in heartbeats, and the two found themselves staring at – for the first time ever – more food than they could both possibly eat. Dreamer spat out the lump of fur, and they tore the meal apart in a bloody frenzy.
Dreamer ate until he physically could not eat any more. The meat was tough and dense, and felt unusually heavy in his belly, but it was glorious to finally be sated. Right now, he felt as if he needed to sleep for a week and that he would never eat again.
He forced down one last bite and stepped back with a groan, then fell over laughing. Wanderer looked like he'd been dipped in red, in the dim light Dreamer could just barely see it glistening all over his face, halfway up his forelegs and halfway down his chest. His distended belly just topped it off.
In his haste to feed, Dreamer was probably a similar sight, if not worse, and he could feel leaves and grass sticking to him which only made him laugh harder. Wanderer was choking down a last bite when he looked over – but instead of amusement, his features turned to panic.
His laughter abruptly cutting off, Dreamer approached and crooned uncertainly. His friend – now frantically cleaning himself – was highly distressed, which was uncharacteristic. When he met no objection, Dreamer licked at the places harder to reach until Wanderer was a shiny black Nightstriker again. He then just sat there, staring forward and taking long, shaky breaths, while Dreamer cleaned himself.
It didn't feel safe to hang around a fresh kill for too long, they'd had run-ins with hunter-packs and were both now too heavy to easily escape to the air. Dreamer tugged and barked at Wanderer until he started moving, and they made their way back – on paws – to their beach. It was unfortunately a bit too far to drag the rest of the carcass with them, but right now they were fed and would soon be safe. They would fly future winds when they came.
When they were safely hidden from the rising sky-fire in their den, Wanderer nudged Dreamer onto his side and nuzzled into him with purrs and croons. Dreamer was too drowsy to do more than relax into the attention, and a few licks under his jaw sent him rolling into a deep, relaxed sleep.
The sky-fire was far from the water when they woke the next morning, but even despite their long much-food-sleep, that was how it was now. It flew a long path through the sky, and then the next fire would kindle and fly before the embers of the last one died off. The Nightstrikers had to make do with twilight and shadows until the nights returned. Even the clouds seemed to have deserted them.
With no need to eat after the previous meal, the two just played in the sand and water. Dreamer dug a hole and hid in it until Wanderer barked in alarm, then leapt from it and tackled him. Well, tried to, the other Nightstriker was half again as big and only staggered. But Dreamer was faster! He leapt from the retaliation and zipped around the shore, Wanderer playfully snapping at his tail but not able to actually catch him.
He just could not be matched in agility or acceleration. Dreamer angled to his left and let his paws sink into the sand for traction, then threw himself in the complete opposite direction. His pursuer had angled to cut him off but was left scrabbling over himself trying to turn around.
The second time Wanderer was ready, so Dreamer followed through on the turn and left him behind again. He laughed, this was too easy for a game. Wings snapped open and he leaped into the air, here he still had his agility but Wanderer was a much better flyer. They soared and whirled and rode updrafts from where the warm light hit the rocks, but their meal was still heavy in their bellies and they quickly tired.
Dreamer swooped back into their den, panting heavily, and padded over to the trickle of water-
His tongue brushed the damp, grainy bottom of the groove, and he blinked uncomprehendingly. He looked up and down the tiny channel, unable to fathom what he was seeing, and what it meant. Their only source of water was now little more than a damp streak, completely incapable of sustaining them.
Green eyes met green eyes in concern. "Water near?" Dreamer asked, already knowing the answer.
"No," Wanderer scraped.
The two turned back to the damp groove in the rock and stared blankly. Dreamer could already feel his mouth drying out.
They would need to find a new den.
Wanderer was clearly very unhappy about this. Their little beach was safe, but without water it was just as useless to them as to anything else. They couldn't stay.
Anxiety rose in Dreamer's chest as they departed their den, and it wasn't until they were gliding low over the trees that he worked out why. Wanderer was always so confident, so sure, even when they were weak from hunger he always seemed to know what to do. Now, he smelled of and held himself with uncertainty and tension, and that was very worrying to Dreamer.
They glided inland over the treetops. With the water in the ground apparently having dried up, their only hope was that some was caught in a pool somewhere and that meant they had to leave the coast. Wanderer led him through a gap in the foliage and to the ground to walk. The uncertainty had drained from his scent, but the tension was still there. Dreamer wasn't sure that boded well.
Almost-night fell and they were able to move a bit faster. Dreamer finally worked out they were tracking the stocky prey-pack, but in the wrong direction. Of course, prey needed water too. He started to feel useless again and nudged Wanderer's flank, making to follow a branch in the trail.
"No, danger," Wanderer growled quietly, brooking no argument, and Dreamer slumped and fell in behind. Thankfully, the reverse-trail shortly led to a shallow and muddy pool that tasted flat and dirty, but it was a relief on the tongue. But it too would soon dry up, even if they could stand to live on it, so they moved on.
Needing to rest with the sky-fire rising, they found a hollow in the gnarly roots of a big tree to snuggle up under; there was no play-fighting for grooming rights tonight. Dreamer's anxiety kept him from completely falling asleep, he was still aware of every sound and smell, but the time passed quickly and he 'woke' feeling reasonably rested.
As the sky-fire burned to embers in the distant water and they were on their third prey-trail, Wanderer became infected with uncertainty again. The prey in this area were roaming far for meagre sips of water here and there, but most of it was drying up. Dreamer nudged Wanderer's flank and shook his wings out, "Fly?"
Wanderer warbled cautiously, and they took to the air.
The light was low, but their black figures would be easily visible against the sky and Dreamer felt very exposed, so they did their best to hug the foliage as they weaved between the pointy treetops. No fancy moves tonight, they flew efficiently, quietly, and solemnly, though it was refreshing to be back in the cool air. He could almost forget about his parched throat.
For what felt like the first time, Dreamer actually looked at his surroundings. Ahead rose an unfathomably high mountain, most of it sheer and bare but with many forested flats nearer its base. About halfway up it connected to a smaller mountain to the south with a bridge of rock, and there was a third peak beyond that in the distance. From their low altitude Dreamer couldn't get much of an idea of the layout of the land, but it was very clearly a mess of cliffs and slopes and almost completely covered in vegetation. Not all of it was jagged though, he could see places that had been worn down over time by the flow of water into winding valleys.
Water… If they followed a valley they had a better chance of coming across trapped water. He coasted up alongside Wanderer and brushed his wing to get his attention. "Water go down. Follow down." He gestured a path down the nearest valley.
He thought he caught a low growl over the air, but wasn't sure, and they angled downwards. It took the remainder of the almost-night to clear the valley, there were several smooth rock bowls but none with any water left in them. Most had smelled of various land-prey and the largest had reeked of land-hunters, but all the scents were old and they didn't encounter anything.
They took shelter to almost-sleep in a low overhang of rock they could just squeeze under. They would need to sleep properly in a few nights, but they could keep going like this for now.
Between the walking and flying, their enormous meal was now dwindling and the familiar onset of hunger was scratching at Dreamer's belly. He could tell Wanderer was feeling it too by his heightened alertness and the way his nose tasted the air as they crawled out from the rock; they would now need to look for food as well as water.
Nervously, they took to the air again. Dreamer felt terribly visible and exposed in the bright light, but they had to keep moving, so he flew as low as he could and clenched his teeth at the scrapes his wingtips accumulated.
Some way down the next valley they came across a small pool, but Wanderer told him to stay back. Dreamer was desperately thirsty, but obediently waited and rested while the sky-fire fell in its flight, staring at the water and fighting down needy whimpers. Just before it touched the water, a tall land-prey with spindly legs and a long muzzle cautiously approached from downwind; Wanderer had cleverly placed them above and aside it, so they wouldn't be sniffed out.
The land-prey was big and looked very fast, but they had to try. Just as they separated, circling their quarry in either direction, it gave a low bark and kept vigil while a much smaller one emerged from the foliage towards the water. Dreamer didn't need to confirm the change of target.
Quickly and silently, he stalked through the shadows until he was almost upwind of the quarry, where he coiled under a broad fern and waited. When it finished drinking it nosed at the bigger one, which then took its own cautious drink.
An amorphous black shape emerged from behind it. Wanderer would aim to chase the prey towards the trap, though if he could take it down himself then even better. But the smaller land-prey noticed the threat with a jump and a surprised noise, and both land-prey bolted away – towards Dreamer.
Dreamer waited for just the right moment to launch himself from hiding, deftly avoiding the larger land-prey which continued going past him. Their quarry angled away, but he easily caught up and leapt high – its belly was as high as Dreamer's back – to successfully sink his claws into its flanks and his teeth into its rump.
Their quarry bucked and stumbled – then pain erupted in Dreamer's chest, and he was thrown back. He hit the ground and rolled to a halt, struggling for breath and whimpering as the pursuit disappeared into the trees.
He lay like that until a worried warble sounded and a gentle nose inspected him. Groaning, he leaned so he could inspect his hurt with one eye, and found he was missing bunches of tiny scales from his chest. He didn't get much of a chance to look, as the hurt was quickly covered by a wet, soothing tongue, though it pulled some loose scales free with twitches of pain.
Wanderer murmured reassuringly and alternated between fussing over him and pacing for threats until the pain subsided enough that Dreamer could get a drink. After slaking his thirst, he warbled enquiringly and Wanderer replied with a low negative; they would need to hunt again.
Dreamer's claws were still covered in blood, and he raised them to his nose. When Wanderer ambled over, Dreamer held them out for him to sniff too – the prey was hurt and bleeding, they might still eat.
The blood trail indicated that the prey had run for a distance but quickly slowed down, and they followed inexorably through dense undergrowth and down steep slopes. Dreamer's hurt hampered their progress and his recovery had given it a head start, but its hurt was worse. They would catch up.
The pain subsided as the light faded, and they moved faster as their quarry moved slower. Now that they were in their element they loped silently through the low light in high spirits and with intense focus – both were shattered when the scents of a hunter-pack overlapped the trail.
The two padded to a halt and stared at each other. Dreamer could feel the disappointment and discouragement on his features, just as he could see it on Wanderer; they would not be the predators to eat this meal.
Wanderer turned to the south, his body language a confused turmoil and his scent laden with anxiety. Under his breath he was alternately hissing about water, food, safety, and danger. There were a few strange and unreadable glances at Dreamer too.
This went on until Dreamer sidled up and nuzzled his neck with his own, "Trust you." He could feel Wanderer settle into a sort of grim resolution as he came to a decision.
Up into the air they went, Dreamer's chest loudly complaining its pain to him again with the exertion, and they flew south.