Moving hurt, breathing hurt, the very idea of ever standing up and working her muscles again hurt. And yet, the pure feeling of euphoria rushing through Moonwatcher's veins almost made it worth it.
After days of constant, repetitive, stop-start flying she was here, finally, in her safe haven. She'd collapsed on the first inch of ground she'd made contact with, unable to fly a scale farther. Well, maybe not the first. That would've been the beach, but Moon was now certain she never wanted to see another aggravating, scale-scraping grain of sand for the rest of her life.
No, she'd landed on one of the cliffs that edged this section of, well, wherever here was. Soft tufts of yellowed grass tickled her scales, and the smell of dirt and rain-filled her snout as she lay on the ground, half curled up on the dried earth.
The sun bore down, heat and comforting warmth soaking into her dark scales. It made her vision bloom overly bright, the edges of the tall strands of grass blurring into the white void of sky. It made her tired, so impossibly tired she was in a near-constant battle with her eyes just to keep them open.
It would be so easy to just sleep...
But she couldn't, not now in her current position. If she did she couldn't be certain she'd ever wake again. In her haste and worry over creating that enchantment of her's she'd left out anything related to food or water, so while she was secure in her ability to find rest on sporadically positioned islands, she was on her own when it came to hunting.
At first she thought she'd be fine, after all she'd caught those birds on the first night, how hard could catching a few more be? She hadn't considered that by the second night she'd be too far out to find most sensible flocks. And by night four when she had finally found some she'd been too disoriented for her usual dive bomb hunting tactics. Not only had she failed to catch any, but she'd missed her timing for pulling out of her dive and crashed near-straight into the waves. She still remembered the burning sting on her scales, and the deafening crack as she'd hit the water. She'd been lucky she'd been diving close to her island, even so, she barely made it back.
She'd anticipated a rather leisurely flight after writing the enchantment, maybe staying a couple nights on each island while she recharged, but after realising she only had as long as she could go without water she'd drastically picked up her pace.
Those long, painful flights between landmasses had been one of the worst experiences of her life. The constant thirst and painful hunger had been all she could think of, and any other thoughts had been branching ideas stemming from her primal needs. She'd found herself remembering every time back home when she'd only eaten half the fruit she'd picked, or declined fresh prey from her mother, and desperately wished more than anything she had that food right now, instead of letting it go to waste.
Of course she'd considered magic, who wouldn't? Long stretched hours empty of all but wingbeats had made the idea of using a spell to deal with it all the more appealing. She'd managed to stave off her desires though. As much as she'd like to imagine it was through sheer willpower, and doubtlessly some of it had been, it was mostly out of fear. Two enchantments so close together, how damaging would that be? Maybe she wouldn't have worried so much if it had been something small, but warding off death itself seemed quite a large spell. And well, of course there was the simple fact she didn't have anything to write with. The idea of slicing open her own palm had come to her, but that was a line she wasn't yet willing to cross, and losing more fluid didn't really feel like what she needed right now.
Of course part of her guessed she would be fine. Perhaps "Come to no harm" had been a bit overly vague, but she figured it got the point across well enough she shouldn't die. Even so, the moment she touched land the spell would dissipate, so she'd need to hurry to ensure she had as much time as possible to find something to quell her thirst. That wouldn't have been an issue if she could catch something before reaching dry land, and she'd tried, oh how she'd tried. On the fifth and sixth nights she'd sat for hours into the day by the water, trying to hunt fish the way Turtle had shown her and Qibli back at possibility. She hadn't been able to catch many then, and without someone over her shoulder pointing out what she was doing wrong she had no hope of capturing anything.
So now here she was, lying curled up on the ground without her enchantment, trying to focus on anything other than falling asleep. The sun seemed to muffle the aching pangs of her stomach, and the dry, raspy itch in her throat that flared up every time she dared breathe.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she forced them open, unsure how long she could win this battle with her own body. On shaking limbs she forced herself up, one talon then other until she was just about standing. She felt both weightless and impossibly heavy as she worked her overused muscles. She imagined them like the trunk of a tree, and every flight between islands was like pressing the bark with white-hot metal. It would have been fine if the bark had been given enough time to recover, but flying night after night, it was like pushing in the metal, over and over until a smoking, ashen gash sliced into the tree's flesh, and it was barely able to support itself.
From somewhere distant she could hear the running of a river and a bubbling crash as it dropped into a larger body of water. She might have tried flying to it if her wings weren't already splayed by her side, entirely wasted.
She took one trembling step, then another, disappearing into the tall field of grass that stood between her and salvation. The grass waved pleasant and yellow, rustling like shed snakeskins as they brushed past her sweltering scales. It offered her a marginal amount of shade, which was appreciated as the oppressive heat of the sun weighed her down.
She'd been walking for minutes, hours? Past the heated muddy haze of confusion in her mind she couldn't tell. With every step she dug her claws into the soft earth, cool dirt and stones soothing her aching talons before she had to come up for another step.
She wasn't too sure what time it was. So far from home her internal clock was entirely useless to her. She had tried a talonful of times to look up and guess the time from the sun, but her exhausted night-adjusted eyes made out only white in every inch of the sky. The searing brightness forced her eyes shut, and she stumbled around in darkness for several minutes until she was able to crack them open again.
She became less aware of herself as she moved, barely tracking the growing sound of water as she approached it. All she knew was that suddenly her slight protection from the sky was gone, and the rush in her ears she'd been lightly tracking was now substantially louder.
She blinked, staring disbelievingly at the warm reflections that danced and sparked across the water's surface, as she quickly realised what it was.
She staggered towards it, tripping over an uneven section of ground or possibly her own claws. Her jaw smacked against the ground but she barely felt it as she staggered upright, kneeling shakily by the water's edge, beginning to drink.
The water was far from cold, baking under the light of what she assumed was the midday sun had warmed it to a lukewarm tepid temperature that was far from what she would usually consider refreshing. But right now she didn't care about that. The water felt like liquid gold dripping down her dry cracking mouth and throat, ambrosia stronger than any drink of the gods she'd read about from Nightwing legends of old.
As she drank energy dripped back into her, which she wasn't sure was a good thing. The haze clouding her thoughts dissipated, and she once again felt the agonised complaints of every drained muscle as they tugged against each other.
She groaned, resting her head on the edge of the riverbank. Moon wanted nothing more than to disappear beneath the glimmering, rippling surface and cool her melting scales. She shook off the irresponsible thought. She had no idea how deep the water was, and given how tired she already was it wasn't worth chancing it.
Maybe I should give hunting a try...
Her stomach growled, reminding her it still had yet to be filled. No, she couldn't go now, not during the day. It was hard to remember now, but she thought she'd seen dragons, or something dragon-like in her vision of this place, they'd absolutely see her if she tried anything now, and given her current state she'd have no ability to flee. She didn't know exactly how long dragons could go without eating, but from what she remembered water was much more of an immediate issue, and given she'd lasted this long without that she'd probably be fine for another day without food.
She closed her eyes with a content sigh, and fell immediately into deep, simple, dreamless sleep.
She awoke finally the next night, or possibly a whole day had passed without her knowing, she couldn't tell. She was roused by the buzzing of odd nocturnal insects whose unfamiliar twittering calls buzzed softly from the still stalks of grass that skirted the edge of the river.
She raised her creaking neck, twisting it numbly to stretch out the stiffness that had ensnared it while she slept. For a moment she forgot where she was, the dark sky and sound of water making her believe she was once again on an isolated island, soon to set off on another drawn-out, agonising flight.
She was brought back to her surroundings by what looked like hundreds of buzzing sparks that reflected on the water's almost completely smooth surface and filled the air above the yellowed grass.
Fireflies.
She was surprised by how excited she was to see them, watching as they danced and flitted around each other, tumbling in the air. They were a quiet reminder of home, of all those empty nights she'd spent watching their many amber glows from her hollow in the Rainforest. Back when all she had to worry about was how long her mother would take to return, and keeping her few beloved scrolls safe from storms. Back before she knew anything of dragons other than the warm curve of her mother's wing, and the faint, distant images that appeared to her in her dreams. Before she had any dragons she could consider friends, and had no prophecies or great fantastical destinies looming on the horizon.
The prophecy,
She hadn't thought about that in such a long time.
Of course not, because I've prevented it. Jade Mountain isn't going to fall, because Darkstalker is never going to get his magic back.
The scroll hung lazily from her neck, pressed into the smooth sandy bank she lay on. It felt completely natural there now, the ever-present humming of magic a constant reminder of why she was doing all of this. It made her heart ache, leaving her friends and everything she'd known behind, but it wouldn't be forever. She just had to make sure they were safe now, until some option for safely disposing of the scroll came to her.
She yawned, dragging herself to standing as the dull throb of hunger found her again. She stretched out her petrified muscles, arching her back and twisting her tail into several tight spirals. She shook out her wings, promising to use them as little as possible to give them ample time to recover.
The sky above her was speckled with millions of twinkling stars, filling the dark with wide swathes of brilliant white and faint glowing colour. Her head was just about eclipsed by the top of the grass, drastically decreasing how much of her surroundings were visible. Not wanting to fly too much quite yet, she flapped over the thinnest section of river in the clearing, across to the other side where a flat, oddly shaped rock formation jutted out by the water. It wasn't particularly tall, but more than enough to give her sight across the grassland.
Pulling herself up onto the boulder was a strenuous task, but it didn't take very long, and soon she was staring out at the vast, dusty yellow landscape. Behind her she could just about see the ocean she'd come from, and now could clearly make out the jagged cliffs that lined the coast, shaped almost like a dragon's claw. To her left and right was more ocean, possibly sea although she'd never learnt the difference between the two.
When she turned though, to face what lay ahead of her inwards in the landmass, she found what she was looking for. A massive, towering monolith jutted out of the ground, imposing and grand and... shaped like a beehive? While not exact, it distinctly resembled some combination of the many insect nests she'd learnt to avoid back home. Thin strings of something branched from the structure, connecting on the right back side to something over the horizon her admittedly weak Nightwing vision couldn't discern. The strings on the left stretched far over a large section of water and bridged to another impressive construction, this one slightly smaller. While lights in the first structure were few and far between, the second was glowing all over with gold embers and brilliant multicoloured light that spilt from the building itself and overflowed out into the ground below into the many somethings that surrounded it.
She was immediately struck by how different the two of them felt, despite just being buildings. The left one felt full of life and energy, an effect enhanced by the occasional shapes she assumed could only be dragons that flew between openings on its outside. The right one just looked miserable. It was impressive, yes, and she didn't think she quite had enough knowledge of artistry to appreciate the carved designs that covered its outside, but it felt lonely, its large size only adding to the oppressive emptiness as no movement came from the construction other than the occasional lighting or dampening of fire. At least, she assumed it was fire, but given the things looked to be made of wood she wondered if perhaps fire would be too much of a hazard, like how in the rainforest fire use even for cooking was strictly regulated for fear of forest fires.
She turned her attention again to the left construction, or "nest" as she was beginning to subconsciously call them. She watched the dragons who flew from opening to opening. Their movements were odd, although it was nearly impossible to tell from this far back they didn't move in the air like any dragons she'd ever seen. She wonder what tribe they could be.
Maybe Seawings? They're the only ones I could imagine finding this place.
Her heart leapt as another idea came to her,
Or Nightwings! Maybe that's why our tribe is so small now, when some of them were leaving the old kingdom to flee from him, they used their future sight to escape the continent entirely.
As far fetched as it felt, Moon loved that idea. That maybe there were other dragons here like her, who could help her with her powers, or know what to do with the scroll when she didn't. But looking at the buildings again it felt unlikely. Some of the dragons did look dark, but not black exactly. She squinted, but with the distance and the lights, it was almost impossible to tell what most of the dragons looked like.
She closed her eyes, holding her head as a headache began to creep up her skull. Nightwing eyes were designed specifically to be able to absorb as much light as possible, so in low light they could make out their surroundings accurately. This had the unfortunate downside of meaning details in especially far off things could only be seen by widening one's pupil to let in more light, to be able to make out whatever you were looking at. So, staring at a particularly far off exceedingly bright building was completely overstimulating her already sensitive young eyes.
She sighed, rubbing her forehead as the headache subsided.
I should get something to eat before doing any more investigating.
Not that she was particularly keen on the idea of investigating in the first place. Her mother's favourite mantra rang in her head, as it often seemed to do,
Stay secret, stay hidden, stay safe.
It had done her quite some good throughout her life, and now especially listening to it seemed the prudent choice. She was getting the impression that daunted, off-balanced aura radiating from the larger nest was both due to its design and possibly a vague, unspecific as always future warning.
She sighed, lowing her talon.
I came here to escape all this future nonsense, didn't I?
Deciding what exactly her next move would be was a task for future Moon, all current Moon had to worry about was finding something to eat, and somewhere shaded to sleep today.
She tasted the air, flicking her tongue out and in as she examined her environment. Despite, or perhaps due to their unimpressive sight, a Nightwing's other senses were much more adept than many of the other tribes. Moon had leant that from one of her most treasured scrolls when she was younger, "A comprehensive guide to Nightwing physiognomy and traits." After years and countless questions surrounding their tribe wearing down her mother, she'd eventually given it to her to placate her daughter's need for information on them.
Most of her time reading that one through was spent noting down words she didn't understand to query her mother on, but she'd still enjoyed it. There were notes in there about bone and muscle structure, and how they differed from other tribes, sections about size and how Nightwing's have gotten larger on average over the last few thousand years. But the part she found most interesting, was the notes on senses. According to her scroll, while weak at long distances, Nightwing hearing was particularly good at pinpointing the exact location of sounds from close range. And, more interestingly to her, it had listed smell as a Nightwing's strongest sense. Apparently, full-grown Nightwing's could smell dying or dead prey from over 200 wingspans away, which was when she realised the reason her mother had always told her to say as far away as possible from dying animals, they were the prey of other Nightwings, who might find her.
She'd asked Sectretkeeper about that in her next visit, why she never hunted for Moon the way the scrolls described Nightwings as hunting. She had said it was because other dragons might find anything she caught if she did it like that, and for Moon not to try it for herself in case it made her sick.
Moon had found that assessment reasonable, though given how tired she was now, it was tempting to give it a go. As much as she favoured the idea of catching fresh prey, if she used her wings frequently now they would take a good amount longer to recover. After the Nightwings had arrived in the Rainforest, she'd never had the opportunity to try hunting like them as the practice had been generally frowned upon by the Rainwings, and Queen Glory had shortly outlawed it, deeming it "too cruel". Moon understood that to some extent, but wasn't all hunting cruel in some fashion? And it wasn't like they could give up hunting entirely, she'd heard stories of dragons who had decided to survive completely without meat, and it hadn't turned out well for them. Did it even make a difference in what way they hunted? Maybe if animals could feel emotions the way dragons could it would, but as far as her powers could interpret they couldn't. Scavengers certainly could, and she was more than alright forgoing eating them, but as far as her experience she hadn't seen any other animal operating on more than base survival instincts.
She twisted her neck, overlooking the dusty yellow plains.
Maybe it's time to try hunting the Nightwing way.
She breathed slowly, keeping her breaths long and shallow as to not disturb the air. Tall grass brushed her flanks as she crouched to the ground, muscles tensed as she prepared to spring.
Ahead of her, in a clear patch beneath a short, winding tree was a pack of animals fighting over their prey. The animal they had killed was a mystery to her, some kind of deer-like creature with a lighter, golden brown pelt, and long greyish horns that curved above its slumped head. The creatures fighting over it were much more foreign. It was hard to make out much about them through the gaps in the grass, even so, she had enough information to place them firmly outside of the category of any animal she'd seen before. The closest thing she had for comparison was something her mother had called a rainforest dog, and her scrolls had called a short-eared zorro, although even that wasn't particularly similar.
The creatures were covered in shaggy brown hair and were oddly top-heavy. They had short snouts, just barely longer than a cat's, and long round ears that came to a point at their tip. Their yips and growls rang out in the night as they fought over every bite. Several of the smaller ones were rolling around in the dirt, nipping at each other with uncomfortably monkey-like mouths.
Just to make sure, she reached out her mind, searching for even a hint of something recognisable. Nothing, not even a flicker of emotion.
She clenched her jaw to stop herself from yawning, trying to ignore how tired she was, and the dull complaints of her stiff limbs. She flexed her claws, squinting as she waited for one to step close enough for her to-
She pounced, biting down with all the force she could muster on one of the larger ones hind legs. It yelped, snapping at her until it realised how much larger she was, and that she wasn't moving towards it. It scampered back, falling back to the rest of the pack who were slowly beginning to move back. She was too tired and clumsy in this unfamiliar environment to chase her prey down quite yet, so she forced her tired wings open, growling a low guttural noise and baring her teeth in a manner she hoped looked intimidating. The creatures stared at her, as if considering if they could take her down as a group and add her to their meal.
She hissed, forcing a long plume of flame towards the animals. That certainly got their attention. They hurried away, disappearing immediately behind the screen of grass. Once she was certain they were gone she folded down her wings, dragging herself towards the tree and collapsing with a grown beneath the tightly knit branches. Normally this level of activity wouldn't have been an issue, but without food she was struggling to find the energy to do anything. She let her eyes rest half closed, watching the stars as they twinkled placidly down at her.
I shouldn't be sleeping yet, it's too early.
And yet, her eyes began to softly fall closed, as she reasoned with herself that the moons would be setting soon anyway.
I wonder if hunting like this will even work for me.
She sighed, curling her wings around herself and crossing her claws it would.