"Time to wake up!" sang Sard cheerfully, pouncing on Ozone's back.
He blinked blearily awake and shoved her off with as much coordination as he could muster so early in the morning. He then closed his eyes again, hearing her snicker to herself in self-satisfaction as she went over to wake up Buzzard.
"Don't you dare—" Buzzard started to growl, having been woken by Sard's assault on Ozone, but it was too late. Ozone forced his tired eyes open a slit just in time to see Sard pin Buzzard's mouth shut with one set of talons and use the other to grab his ear, which she shouted "Rise and SHINE!" into at an unnecessarily loud volume.
Ozone suppressed a sigh and let his eyes slide shut again. Today was going to be a long day. Days when Sard caused mischief this early in the morning always were.
Buzzard let out a muffled roar of outrage, and a scuffling sound followed, as if he was trying to hit her with his wings. Sard's ensuing laughter seemed to indicate that his attempts remained unsuccessful.
"Your friend is merciless," observed Ridge, who had already been awake and had therefore been spared Sard's annoying wake-up call.
"Tell me about it," Ozone grumbled, rubbing his forehead. He peeled one eyelid open again and saw that it was still dark in their cave. Thankfully, it seemed that Sard hadn't carried out her threat of waking him up earlier than usual.
It had rained the entirety of the previous day, and while Claret had continued their lessons as best as she could in the largest cave, there was only enough room for two or three of them to practice moves at a time, making it largely inefficient compared to outdoor training. Ozone had been grateful for the opportunity to rest between exercises, but the confining space made him almost as antsy as ceaseless practice.
When the dragonets gathered in the entrance cave, they found that the downpour continued to rage on. Claret announced that she had called off training for the day, but that she expected them to sign into the exercise cave for at least an hour in the morning and an hour sometime after lunch. She then dismissed them, instructing them to come to the kitchen for breakfast when she called, and slithered away.
In her absence, their second supervisor sidled into the entrance cave. "Are you all staying in on account of the storm blowing in?"
Ridge nodded, but neither he nor any of the other dragonets spoke. They tended to be as taciturn as possible around this particular soldier. Even when you didn't speak at all, he was bound to twist your response some way or another.
The older SkyWing flared his nostrils contemptuously. "In my day, we trained no matter what the weather. Claret's making the lot of you soft."
After a moment of silence, Ridge murmured a noncommittal yet polite response. Ozone noticed Gale roll her eyes at Buzzard, whose tail-tip was twitching in annoyance. Sard's nostrils were trailing smoke, as if she were biting back a furious retort.
The last SkyWing who lived with them in the base was Spark, a veteran from the Great Pyrrhian War. He was old, prejudiced, and long-winded in his stories about why the other tribes couldn't be trusted. For these reasons, the other dragonets didn't like talking to him when they could avoid it, but Ozone didn't mind.
"Soldier training used to be serious," Spark said, in a tone that heralded lecturing. "If you didn't discipline your dragons, they'd die in battles. Training these days… pffft, what a joke! When those snakes on the other side of the border decide to attack us, you lot won't be able to accomplish more than scavengers!"
"I doubt you'd be able to do much more, old pigeon-brain," Gale muttered under her breath, but Spark was a bit deaf and thankfully didn't seem to hear her.
"What makes you so sure they'll attack us?" Ozone asked, to cover what she had said just in case. He heard Buzzard bite back a sigh just as Sard stomped on his talons. He winced and swatted her with his tail as subtly as he could.
Spark re-adjusted his wings, getting ready for a long explanation. "You can't trust dragons from other tribes, and that's the simple truth! Can't reason with 'em. They just don't think the same way. Us SkyWings, we're good, loyal dragons. But the other tribes will backstab you whenever they get the chance. Always looking to take something from you. Especially them SandWings couple miles out west. And NightWings—can't trust those seers; always got an ulterior motive."
Ozone nodded to pacify him. He sometimes found it difficult to tell exactly what Spark was rambling on about, but he knew from experience that he wasn't expected to respond. Conversations with Spark were basically one-sided.
"Breakfast is ready," Claret's voice called from one of the far caves. "If you don't want it burned, come and get it now!"
The dragonets hurried off gratefully, except for Ozone, who lingered behind with Spark. He didn't want to get in the way as everyone squabbled over prey. Sard and Gale were known to fight over anything and everything possible, and Buzzard had a tendency to stomp on Ozone's talons if he took too long deciding what he wanted to eat.
"Hmph," grumbled the old dragon. "Dragonets these days, always impatient. No respect for anyone. Now, if I were their commander instead, they would be catching and cooking their own prey, regardless of how windy it was. Yes, that's what my commander always made us do, back in my day."
"I'm sure it made you very resilient," Ozone commented as agreeably as he could, and then glanced away, momentarily preoccupied by a rumble of thunder from outside.
"Very resilient indeed," Spark said, ruffling his orange-and-gold wings proudly and taking no notice of Ozone's distraction. "Claret should be training those dragonets of hers to be that independent."
"I guess she just likes to help us whenever she can," Ozone reasoned. Sometimes Spark seemed to forget that he was one of "those dragonets of hers", so he didn't let the older dragon's criticism bother him.
"Bah," Spark said, with a dismissive lash of his tail. "Now, if she really wanted to help you, she'd teach the lot of you to fend for yourselves."
"Perhaps you could teach us," suggested Ozone.
Spark squinted at him suspiciously, seeming uncertain about whether to interpret his comment as sass. Ozone held the old dragon's gaze with as much polite respect as he could muster, but he wasn't sure it was quite convincing.
"Teaching you is her job, not mine," Spark grumbled at last. "If Claret wants to spoil you, not much I can do about that. Now go on and join the rest of your friends, or you'll have to catch your own prey. Three moons know you'd never be able to do it in this weather." The jibe was clearly retaliation for the perceived sarcasm, but Ozone let it pass over him without getting offended. It was probably true.
He went to the exercise cave immediately after breakfast, knowing that he would probably forget otherwise. Thankfully, none of the other dragonets wanted to practice so early in the morning, so was left to train in rather peaceful silence.
It rained for the rest of the day, leaving Ozone with a lot of thoughts and not a lot to do after he finished training. After dinner, while Sard curled up in her dormitory to take a nap, Gale and Buzzard went off to the largest cave to spar, and Ridge stood guard at the base's entrance, Ozone wandered the network of caves, trying not to think too much about how confining it was.
Eventually he gave up and decided to go to Claret for permission to go out. She'd probably think him brainless for wanting to struggle against the raging winds, but at this point anything was better than staying inside.
He found her in the kitchen, reading an official-looking scroll that had likely been sent by one of her military superiors and had probably arrived the previous morning before the storm hit. Ozone waited in the doorway for Claret to notice him, not wanting to interrupt something important.
After about a minute, she looked up. "What is it?"
"May I have permission to fly around outside for a while?" he asked.
"Do you have pigeon down for brains?" Claret asked. "It's raining like the wrath of war out there." She looked him up and down with keen yellow eyes and seemed to realize how antsy he had gotten. "Very well, you may go. But I expect you to keep up in training tomorrow regardless of how tired you are. Is that clear?"
Ozone nodded vigorously. "Thank you."
He hurried off to the entrance cave, where he encountered Ridge. The red-orange dragonet gave him a dubious look. "You're going outside?"
"Just for a little while," Ozone told him.
"All right," Ridge said, folding his wings back. "But I would fly low if I were you. You might get struck by lightning if you're up too high."
"I will," Ozone promised. Despite the ominous warning, however, he couldn't feel anything but relief at the thought of being out in the open sky. He leapt out of the cave, relaxing as the cool wet air enveloped his wings.
The storm winds were fierce, and Ozone could see the trees along the walls of the gorge being whipped around. The waves churned in the river beneath him as if being struck repeatedly by a hundred SeaWings' tails.
Ozone flapped his wings as powerfully as he could, battling the winds for control. The other tribes would have been easily blown away in these conditions, but a SkyWing like Ozone could fly in them at least somewhat successfully.
He set off down the valley, flying low as Ridge had suggested but also flying over the trees on the side of the gorge instead of directly above the river. A particularly tall wave would easily conduct electricity, and he didn't want to be in the way if one did.
As he began to adjust to the howling winds, Ozone let his mind drift. The storm swirling overhead caught his eye, and he gazed up at the sky thoughtfully, studying its soft gray depths. He wondered how clouds so tranquil-looking could conceal something as dangerous and unpredictable as lightning.
The thought reminded him of the silhouette he had seen illuminated by the storm the day before. He didn't think he had imagined it, but he was so prone to daydreaming that he couldn't quite be sure he hadn't. Only now did it occur to him that he probably should have reported it. Regardless of whether Claret would believe him, reporting any suspicious occurrences was the responsible thing to do.
Ozone frowned, wishing that he could think of these things when they were actually relevant and important.
After a while, his wings began to ache. Normally, SkyWings didn't get tired, even after flying for hours, but navigating storm winds was a particularly draining task.
Realizing that he was too far from the base to get back without exerting himself, Ozone decided to find a cave to rest in. The gorge and the surrounding cliffs were made out of sheer rock, and it was difficult to find an opening in their walls large enough for a dragon to fit into, but eventually, he located a decently large cavern and soared into it. Grateful for the shelter from the unforgiving rain, Ozone shook out his drenched and aching wings, scattering droplets of water everywhere.
A displeased grunt from the depths of the cave caught his attention. Whirling around in surprise, he peered into the darkness with wide orange eyes. He stood very still, listening for the sound of breathing, but it was impossible to hear anything over the sound of the rain and wind outside.
"Is someone there?" he asked tentatively.
"Yes," growled a menacing voice, with an unfamiliar accent which indicated that it didn't belong to a SkyWing. "And I'm not afraid to fight you."