Happy Friday folks! This chapter starring the White Fang, dragon body language, and lots of young dragons.

72. A Dragon Makes a Choice

At first, Pyrrha didn't understand why the woman had tensed up. She risked a look over her shoulder and saw only dim, shadowy woods. Heard nothing, except for the wind whispering in the trees. But something made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Good girl," the White Fang woman murmured.

Pyrrha whirled around. Now she could hear it, a low rasping hiss coming from the trees behind her. Two pale yellow eyes gleamed in the dark.

She let go, slowly. No sudden movements. As she moved back, she planted a foot on the fallen knife and slid it away from the woman. The hissing didn't stop.

"That's it," the woman went on. Her voice was soft, but Pyrrha thought she heard it shake. "That's right."

The dragon slipped soundlessly out of the shadows. Sunlight fell across her scales, turning them sandy yellow, and Pyrrha's heart lurched as if she'd just missed a step. If the rider hadn't been right in front of her, she would have sworn this was a pit dragon—scars criss-crossed her muzzle, there was a nick in her left ear, and she moved warily, like she expected an attack at any moment. She was hardly taller than a horse at the shoulder—six months old, at most.

A surge of anger choked her. She must have shown it, somehow, because the dragon dropped into a defensive pose and bared her teeth. Cursing her mistake, Pyrrha forced herself to relax... and let her eyes slide shut. She held them that way for several seconds, her heart pounding, before she opened them again. The dragon was still staring at her, completely bewildered by the show of trust.

The White Fang woman kept up a steady stream of quiet, soothing murmurs. As the dragon's posture shifted, she whispered, "That's it. Get the human."

Pyrrha's stomach dropped. This was it—there was no coming back from that, no fighting a dragon and its rider alone in the woods. How could she have been so reckless, coming out here? What would Jaune and Twiggy—

Another hiss. This one was far from quiet, and the dragon flared her wings to make herself look bigger. It hit Pyrrha then—the bizarre behavior, the injuries, the way she blended into the forest like she belonged there. She wasn't bonded to the White Fang woman. Perhaps her rider had died just after she hatched, or her egg had been abandoned for some reason. Most of her scars looked like they might have come from other dragons, but that could just as easily have been Grimm.

And some were too clean to have been either—but Pyrrha wouldn't dwell on that now. Her life depended on calm.

"You've been alone out here for a long time, haven't you?" she said.

The dragon drew back as if slapped. Too much—Pyrrha took care to let her hands dangle at her sides, ducking her head to make herself smaller. "It's alright. I won't hurt you. I can't, see? No weapons."

She caught a glimpse of the White Fang woman's lips pulled back in a soundless snarl. "She's lying." Another hiss, and wave of hot, dry air rolled over them. Pyrrha stumbled back as yellow eyes narrowed to slits and every plant within a dozen feet of the dragon withered and died. Realization struck Pyrrha again. She'd thought at first sight that this was a fire dragon—and she did have horns instead of head-fins, but she also had the long whiplike tail and gigantic wings of a wind dragon, and her powers were completely different. A hybrid.

"She and her Schnee friends are here to destroy the camp. They brought dragons."

The hybrid didn't react at all to the name Schnee, but her ears flicked at the mention of the camp being destroyed. Still she stood there, watching them both, her teeth slightly bared to remind them not to make any aggressive moves. Pyrrha allowed herself to hope. If she could just keep this up long enough for one of the others to come looking for her...

A sharp intake of breath from the White Fang woman. Frustration, maybe, or fear. Whichever it was, she spoke much too sharply. "It's me." She took a step forward.

In the instant that she moved, the hybrid lashed out. The woman just managed to dodge the swipe, tripped over a root, and landed flat on her back. The noise that followed was half enraged growl, half anguished whine—and a horrible suspicion started in the back of Pyrrha's mind, that maybe her first guess hadn't been so far off after all.

"Easy!" She made sure not to raise her hands. Keeping her steps small and slow, she moved so that she stood between the hybrid and the faunus. "It's alright. She's going to stay there." Pyrrha shot the woman on the ground a pointed look.

The hybrid's eyes were wild. She pranced in place with her nostrils flaring. A small whimper escaped her, and she turned it into a threatening growl. Every movement was jerky and erratic, and for an instant she reminded Pyrrha powerfully of Tornado. She knelt down, placing her hands flat on the ground. "You're safe," she murmured, though a lump in her throat threatened to block the words. "I promise."

Safe.

When Sienna was right there. When every inch of her was thrumming with the urge to lie down, to whimper and whine and let anything happen as long as she could finally go home. When she was sure she was one touch away from coming apart at the seams.

She brought her bared teeth inches away from the liar's face and screamed.

The smell of fear filled the air, but the human still didn't move. Didn't draw a weapon. That made her angrier, somehow, which was good. Anger helped her remember.

She clung to it as Sienna pushed herself onto her hands and knees and looked up. No words, yet. She hissed, hoping to keep her silent, as conflicting impulses paralyzed her. It was time to run, before others came, but she didn't want to. She wanted to bite, to lick her face, to hurl her across the clearing, to curl up around her...

A deafening roar broke the spell.

"Brand!" It was Justice—he'd done it before, too, but he'd been too far away then for her to make out words. Now she could tell that he was scared. She sniffed the air again, and past the cloying fear and heartache she could sense strange dragons. Intruders.

Justice had come back again, and these people had scared him. Her eyes fixed on the human and, as if she'd sensed the change, she sprang to her feet.

And there it was. Feeling a vicious satisfaction at finally breaking the lie, she lunged for the human and—missed. Her prey stepped smoothly out of the way, just out of reach of her claws, and shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet. Sienna moved towards her, as if she wanted to fight the human together.

No.

She roared at Sienna, making her ears go flat and her eyes wide. She stumbled back, glanced at the human, and fled into the forest. Then, after she was already out of sight, she whistled high and long. Calling the replacement.

Rage boiled up inside her. Little flames came when she called them, burning her footprints into the forest floor. Dry air billowed from her jaws, cracking the human's skin, but she shielded her face with one arm. Another lunge, and again she slipped out of the way. It was like trying to attack water.

She let free a frustrated bellow. Never in her life had she wanted so badly to hit something, to bite and tear until the twisted feeling in her belly went away, and this stupid human just wouldn't stay still!

And, all the while, she kept talking. Always softly, soothingly, hardly pausing even as she danced away from every claw swipe and ducked under every tail whip. Mostly nonsense mixed with the same set of lies—it's alright, you're safe, I won't hurt you. Then, "That was your rider, wasn't it?"

Pain flared all through her chest, like someone had poured freezing water over her insides. She screeched in fury and, for the first time, aimed her claws not at the human's arms and legs, but at her throat.

Not that it mattered. She ducked under that, too. There was a spark of anger in her eyes, now. Finally she would attack—but she didn't.

"What did they do to you?"

The human was angry for her, not at her. Something inside boiled over, and she attacked in a sudden frenzy. Her howl mixed with a pained cry—finally she had landed a hit, a shallow one across the human's back. She stumbled, tripped over a root, and landed hard on the injury.

Too late, she noticed the glint of metal on the ground. The human saw it too. She growled low in her throat and lunged. Missed. They were almost nose to nose, now, her hand inches from the knife. Even then, when it would be so easy to grab it and strike at her eyes... she didn't. She rolled to her feet, wincing, and backed away from the knife.

"We just want them to stop," she said. The fake calm was gone, and as she spoke her voice broke. "But that won't help you, will it?"

She sprang forward. All thought of why she was fighting had vanished—all she wanted was for the human to stop talking. Another attack, one she would dodge just like all the others. But at the last second she slammed a back paw into the dirt and changed direction and bore her to the ground. There she crouched, panting, the human pinned under her paws.

Twigs snapped in the forest nearby. Something big coming towards them at top speed. She glared at the human, still trapped in her grip. She wanted... wanted... but the words wouldn't come, and the lack of them built up in her throat and turned into an ear-splitting shriek. Then she sprang away and tore off into the woods.

She could already tell there would be Grimm tonight.

The second the White Fang dragons broke and ran, Twiggy bounded forward into the camp. She trampled several tents in her haste, skidded around the corner, and found the others. Her eyes scanned frantically back and forth. Where was—

"Jaune!" Nora pointed towards the trees. "Pyrrha!"

Twiggy jumped right over Ao Guang, where he was struggling with a pinned Justice. Steele and Quake were right behind her, and she knew they could handle it. But if Pyrrha had run off all alone... Her heart pounded in her chest like a gigantic drum as she crashed through the undergrowth, looking frantically around. Nothing, nothing... and then a scream of rage and pain. A dragon's scream.

Jaune tugged at the reins to urge her onward as she bolted towards the sound. More roars followed—her feet skidded on a patch of mud as she pelted across, heedless of anything except finding the source of that horrible sound. Finally, she caught a glimpse of red through the trees and bolted towards it.

There was a flash of yellow in the shadows as she leaped in front of Pyrrha—but an instant later it was gone, and there was no sign that another dragon had been there at all.

No sign, except for Pyrrha's injuries.

Jaune leaped off her back. Twiggy whined low in her throat and nuzzled against her side, purring and licking the cuts on her back. Her rider, meanwhile, fumbled in one of her saddlebags for a first-aid kit. Pyrrha let out a shaky sigh. "I'm alright."

He said nothing as he bandaged her back. That was the worst of it—though she winced when he touched her side, and it turned out she'd hit something hard enough to leave a large bruise there. Here and there were dry patches on her skin, and the knuckles on her left hand were bleeding a little. Jaune frowned at the sight of them. "What...?"

"I met a hybrid."

Twiggy whined again and curled up around Pyrrha and Jaune, covering them both with a wing. "Nno," she said. "No more."

"I know," Pyrrha said. "I'm sorry, I just..."

"Just what?" Jaune asked. "Pyrrha... you have to stop doing stuff like this. Please, just let us help."

"I didn't mean to." She scratched Twiggy behind the ears, soothing some of the fear of the last few minutes. "I just wanted to do something, and one of their riders ran off on her own."

"So let her go!" Jaune burst out. "Whoever she was, she's not as important as you, okay?"

Pyrrha said nothing for a long moment. Then, reluctantly, she nodded into his shoulder. "We should get back. The others..."

"They're okay, from what I saw." He still nudged Twiggy, and after a few heartbeats she made herself get up. With both Jaune and Pyrrha on her back, she trotted towards the camp. "Things seemed like they were under—"

They broke out of the trees, and into a swirling maelstrom of random trash. An indigo hatchling was wriggling frantically in Freya's grip, wailing at the top of its lungs in a voice almost as deep as Ragnar's. Meanwhile a grey and gold one pelted in circles around the clearing, shrieking as it dodged between Steele and the flailing pile of limbs that was Ao Guang and Justice.

"Grab that dragonet!" Winter shouted.

Twiggy tried to pounce on him, but between her surprise and the two humans on her back, she missed. His tail flicked out and whacked the side of her foreleg, sending a painful jolt up her spine. By the time she recovered, he had already vanished into the undergrowth.

Winter said something else, but it was completely drowned out by the combined noise of Justice, the indigo dragonet, and a big man on the ground who was just starting to stir. Finally she turned to Steele and nodded. He stalked forward, picked up the big man in his teeth, dropped him next to Ao Guang and Justice, and put a paw down on both White Fang riders. The noise stopped.

"Thank you, Steele," Winter gritted out. Her eyes flashed as she rounded on Ilia. "You lied to us."

Ilia's eyes were wide, and as Winter spoke her whole body flashed bright yellow. "I didn't! I swear, I—"

"Was that supposed to be an ambush? You must have known you'd lose a direct fight." Her hands tightened into fists. "You're going to tell me the plan. Now."

Ilia's skin went from yellow to fiery red. "I didn't lie," she shouted, glaring at Blake. "I told you I couldn't control him anymore and that was completely true!"

"You expect us to believe—"

"Stop!" Blake broke in. Winter rounded on her, but she didn't back down. "She did tell me he was acting up. I just didn't think it would be this bad."

Winter stood there for a moment, rigid with fury. Then she scoffed, her lip curling slightly. "So much for discipline," she muttered. "The lab. Where is it?"

Blake answered, even though she'd been looking at Ilia. "It's over there," she said, and gestured towards the biggest tent. "We broke the injectors. I think they took some of the Dust and equipment before we got here, but it looks like all of the eggs are still there."

Winter grimaced. "Does anyone have anything they can..." she trailed off, arching an eyebrow at Tai, who had pulled off one of Quake's saddle bags.

"Hang on! I always bring one of these whenever I—ow, what the—right, forgot about the handsaw—" Finally he drew his hand back out and brandished an empty leather bag. "This baby holds eight eggs at a time!"

"I counted seven," Weiss said. "I think most of them were already injected."

Tai grimaced. "Alright. Here's hoping they wait until after we get to Atlas to hatch." He, Blake, and Weiss went inside to load up the eggs.

With Steele keeping Justice and the hatchling still, Freya and Guang trotted over to where Twiggy stood. Nora jumped out of the saddle and wrapped Pyrrha in a hug. Ren gave her good shoulder a warm squeeze.

Twiggy wound around Pyrrha and Jaune, her tail flicking, glaring stubbornly at them. She wasn't letting either of them out of her sight for the rest of the day. Or maybe ever, if she could get away with it.

She hadn't kept her promise, today. She shouldn't have let Pyrrha run off on her own. If she'd been hurt—no, not if, she had. She nosed against the bandages, careful to be gentle. Pyrrha patted her muzzle. "I'm alright, I promise."

Twiggy huffed, ruffling her hair. "Ssstay," she said. Pyrrha swallowed hard and hugged her around the neck.

"I will."

"Gud." Twiggy would do better from now on. She'd make sure Pyrrha stayed close by, and she'd keep her safe like Titan would've wanted.