A warm breeze drifted through the merry forest in which Wanderer lay, head resting on his paws, perfectly still and relaxed other than the tip of his tail flexing back and forth. Leaper took another slow, tentative step towards him, eyes wide, as excited as he was afraid. Wanderer still did not move, staring back with calm, dilated eyes.
Leaper lifted his paw and wavered, almost holding his breath in suspense. The paw lowered in another slow step, though he was more focused on Wanderer, not the large dry leaf he carelessly brushed with his claws-
Wanderer narrowed his eyes and lifted his ears, and Leaper squealed as he scrambled to flee, throwing himself completely off-balance and spending a good life-beat writhing on the spot and trying to get his body on the right side of his paws. Wanderer let him take two awkward, stumbling bounds before pouncing, knocking the fledgling over with his snout and standing over him to ferociously lick and nuzzle him, his heart warmed by the little paws desperately pushing at his nose, the claws scrabbling at his chin, and the breathless, shrieking laughter.
Deeming him suitably chastened, Wanderer stood and fell back onto his haunches and chest, once again watching with wide, calm eyes as his son scrambled to his paws to leap away and behind a nearby tree. After only a few moments, he peered around the other side of it, watching tensely, while Wanderer remained motionless. It was a fun game, one that did not require too much effort.
Leaper slowly edged around the tree, growling fear, excitement, dreading getting caught again but eager for the game nonetheless. It was as if he wanted to be caught, but only up until he actually was caught. Wanderer vaguely remembered that feeling himself, the gripping thrill of hunting and being hunted, so it wasn't as if he didn't understand his son's joy. It was just a strange, paradoxical thing to observe.
Something on the ground caught Leaper's eye, distracting him, but a flick of Wanderer's ear had him hop back with a yelp; at least he was paying attention. Leaper's gaze kept going to whatever was on the ground, but he remained very wary of Wanderer, and eventually, reluctantly, walked around the curiosity…
Distracted as he was, his paw brushed against a stick, and Wanderer pounced again. His son squealed and thrashed-
Wanderer reflexively closed his eye against the claws that deliberately slashed for it, instantly backing up and sternly lashing out with a paw. Leaper yelped as the strike caught his shoulder, then curled up to huddle and whine under his own wing. Wanderer waited patiently for a little while, until he was sure the lesson had sunk in, before nudging the fledgling with his snout and giving a prompting huff. Upset, hurt, came a muffled grumble in reply. Wanderer chuckled and pawed at him, rolling him over to lightly tussle him.
"Maybe Sire is awake," Wanderer hummed to the squeaking fledgling chewing his claws. He felt a little crestfallen at the reminder, Dreamer had been very shaken by whatever had happened in the Long-Paw nest. He had not spoken of it, but it was easy to conclude they had done something stupid and unfathomable, reminding him of their potential cruelty. Wanderer didn't care what they did, but it was different for Dreamer.
Leaper burbled and growled while he playfully swatted and bit at the big paw roughing with him, completely oblivious… "You should see," Wanderer decided, backing up and shaking out his wings. "Fly?"
It wasn't as if he'd needed to ask. Leaper's eyes went wide with haste as he scrambled to find his paws, then leapt at Wanderer to clamber up onto his back. The weight was comforting, a leg wedged between his back-fins, tail trailing down his back, little claws digging into his shoulders that had no trouble holding on as Wanderer leapt up a nearby tree and threw himself into the sky. He echoed the happy howl sounding behind his ears, beating his wings to climb and trusting his son to hold on.
The sky-fire wasn't far from kindling, the sky-sparks beginning to dim, but Wanderer intended to be quick. He soared over the mountain, growling caution, wary, over his shoulder as they passed the peak, and Leaper pulled in his wings and huddled a little closer to Wanderer's scruff; he knew this wasn't a time for playing.
Wanderer descended swiftly down towards the Long-Paw nest, flying close to the slope of the mountain. The darkness that still wreathed the land was more than enough to hide them, but as they approached, he could make out movement in the nest, Long-Paws scurrying about the firelit paths and often dragging things around with them.
Leaper was highly curious, still clinging tightly to his neck but straining to get a better look, silent and tense while he stared. Wanderer dropped down onto a tall rock with a modest view, enough to see some of the strange creatures, but out of range twice over of any weapons they might have. Once they were steady and stationary, Leaper stood on Wanderer's head, standing high and leaning forwards for the best look he could get.
"That is Long-Paw nest," Wanderer growled, putting all his frustration, dislike, and wariness into the words, knowing Leaper was more likely to understand that than anything else. "Much danger. We not go near them." At least, not anymore. "Maybe, one night, your sire will forgive them. Maybe you will know them like he did." He chuckled dryly. "I hope you not will learn them like I learned. I not regret, but… not want you do that." Really, he was absurdly lucky everything had turned out the way it had, if any other Long-Paw on those frigid small-lands had found him injured and restrained then he would be long dead and rotted.
He snorted, glanced at the slowly brightening sky, then turned and spread his wings, waiting for Leaper to find his grip again. He did, before too long, but Wanderer could feel him craning around to look back at the nest. After directing a derisive snort back at it, Wanderer leaped into the air and made his way back up the mountain, the fledgling clinging to his back in thoughtful silence. Even when they crossed over the peak, and the distant nest was hidden from sight entirely, Leaper showed none of the usual gleeful excitement for flying.
Wanderer wanted his son to be wary of Long-Paws, but not for them to dull any fun. He abruptly twisted his wings and tail to fling them into a sharp roll, and Leaper shrieked as he desperately scrambled to dig in his claws. The impromptu game of 'hold onto Sire' almost immediately restored the playful mood, Wanderer spinning and rolling and flinging himself around with his son clinging to his back and screeching with laughter.
He did eventually manage to throw him off, pulling a particularly tight turn during a vicious spin, but he found himself significantly more worn out than he had in playing like this previously. Leaper went quiet a moment after his claws slipped off, scrabbling at the air with his eyes wide and teeth bared before managing to right and catch himself. Fun, excitement! he roared, the sound small and easily carrying away on the wind.
After ducking under him to catch him again, the familiar claws once again present and secure, Wanderer lazily dove back to the ground, angling roughly for the den. He didn't fly directly to it though, landing a distance down the treeline; he wanted to keep Leaper up until the sky-fire kindled, so that he would sleep longer and begin to settle into a more regular routine.
Somehow, despite everything, Leaper eagerly jumped off as they touched down and bounded to the nearest tree where he found a stick to pounce and chew. Wanderer purred as he walked over, then lazily tried to swat the stick away from the fledgling attacking it. But he was tired, and soon even that was wearing on him, so he just stood on it and let Leaper try to pry it away from him.
Leaper growled and hopped around the stick, regularly lunging for it and trying to get his teeth around it to little success, then hopped back to bark and growl at it. He huffed, looked up at Wanderer, and growled, "Ssssiiiire."
It took Wanderer a life-beat to register the word. He froze, staring at the fledgling, who stared back up at him with determination and playful defiance. "Sire?" Wanderer asked hopefully.
"Sss… Ss, grrr, Ssire…"
Wanderer leapt back with a happy, enthusiastic! bark and crouched playfully with his chest to the ground. "Yes! I am Sire!" He lunged to nuzzle the fledgling, overwhelmingly elated, and delighted shrieks met his ears as little paws swatted at his face.
He leaped back again, looking around for something else to name, and something brittle clicked against his claws. "Stick," he hummed as he nudged it forwards.
"Sire!" Leaper barked, pouncing the stick to roll over with it and chew it. "Grrowr rowr rowng Ssire rrrang ang grrr…"
Amusement, adoration, Wanderer hummed, before turning towards the den with a chuff. Leaper froze for a moment, then dropped the stick to look at it thoughtfully before ultimately abandoning it to bound after him; there were many more preferable sticks strewn around the den.
He leaped onto Wanderer's tail to claw up onto his back, then bounded up and planted his paws on Wanderer's head to leap off it. His little wings flapped wildly to keep him airborne, Wanderer trotting briskly along behind him to keep up; normally he'd let him fly ahead, but he was hoping this new development would cheer Dreamer up a bit.
Leaper landed in a clumsy scuffle of claws and dirt outside the den, vigorously shook himself off, then bounded inside to pounce Dreamer and climb onto his neck to chew his ear. Weary, Dreamer groaned, pawing at the fledgling. Wanderer purred as he walked over, "You can play with Sire soon."
"Ssssire!" Leaper barked, sprawling over Dreamer's head.
Dreamer blinked his eyes open, though like the rest of him they were still heavy with apathy. "What… you say…?"
Leaper, still being new to this whole talking thing, just slid down his sire's face with a happy roar and hit the ground running, racing in a big loop of the den. Wanderer huffed, then pounced him as he neared, though not so thoroughly that he would start shrieking in excitement. "Go make Sire happy," he said, pointing him back towards Dreamer.
"Sss, Ss, Ssire!" Leaper shouted, running back to Dreamer.
"Yes!" Dreamer said with a happy hum, accepting the fledgling into a ready embrace. "I am Sire!" Leaper crooned and purred happily while Dreamer nuzzled and licked him, slowly and tenderly with much love and affection.
Wanderer purred and walked over to put his wing over Dreamer, knowing nothing needed to be said. He looked a bit better, more alive and lighter, for hearing his son call for him. Until now, having a son had all felt a bit surreal to Wanderer – not aided by the constant activity and occasionally interrupted sleep – but hearing that one word made him feel it. He was a sire…
"Siiiire," Leaper sighed happily, lying on Dreamer's snout and clearly enjoying the purrs rolling through him. He then cackled as Dreamer lifted him and lightly tossed him around, until he slipped off and fell to the ground. Seeing that his dam was awake and watching, he scrambled to his paws and bounded over to pounce her. "Sire!"
"No, Leaper," Fleeting rumbled, lightly nudging him back. "I am Dam. Daaam."
He stared at her for all of a heartbeat before running off to tackle Wanderer and climb onto his neck. "Grrr, rrrr, grrarah Sssire," he growled while he tried to pin down the ear flicking at him. Fleeting's eyes narrowed.
Wanderer shook his son to the ground. "Run!" he barked urgently, and Leaper dutifully bounded out of the den with long, gleeful leaps, closely followed by Dreamer. Fleeting lunged after them, but Wanderer tackled her and managed to bring her down. "I will hold her!" he shouted out after them, then stilled as a deep green eye swivelled to look up at him. "You should be sleeping," he growled lightly at her, and the eye narrowed challengingly while her growl vibrated through his paws.
He had a sudden intuition that they'd both be quite sore later.
"Tail," Dreamer said with a flick of his tail, and pawed at Leaper's.
Leaper, sat on his backside with his hindlegs splayed out in front of him, awkwardly swung his tail around and stared at it as if seeing it for the first time. "Tail," he repeated slowly.
Dreamer pawed at his wing, then flared his own, "Wing."
"Wing," Leaper repeated, then suddenly brightened. "Wing for flying!" He scrambled to his paws and raced around Dreamer to jump onto his tail and climb up onto his back.
"Yes," Dreamer purred patiently, grabbing his son in his teeth and setting him back on the ground; he'd be too big to pick up like that soon.
Disappointed, bored, Leaper grumbled, plonking his haunches onto the soft floor of the den, hindlegs sticking straight out in front of him again.
"Ground," Dreamer hummed, clawing at the floor of the den, though Leaper just stared sullenly back at him. Warning, Dreamer growled, going largely ignored. "You need learn your words. This is ground."
Leaper huffed at him and lay on his chest. "Not want."
"You not want ground? Where you will sleep?"
"No, not sleep!" Leaper whined worriedly, rising to his paws and backing away. "Not sleep! Fly!"
"I not mean you should sleep," Dreamer rumbled. "We can fly after some more words." Just five or ten minutes of going over some words, and then he could play for the whole day; it wasn't as if it was a bad deal.
"We fly!" Leaper barked, only hearing what he wanted to hear and trying to slip past to the mouth of the den, but Dreamer blocked him and prevented him from passing. "Not sleep! Fly!" He sounded almost angry.
"Words," Dreamer said sternly, "then fly." He spread his wings and pointedly gestured all around himself. "Den." Leaper just flopped back to the ground with a huff. "Do words now, then can fly sooner," Dreamer grumbled. "If quick, can fly with Sire, Dam!" The drawn-out groans and rolling around did not suggest he was willing to cooperate. "Leaper…" He walked over to the fledgling and nudged him-
Leaper flipped upright and raced through Dreamer's paws, towards the mouth of the den. "Come!" Dreamer barked sternly as he spun around, but Leaper ignored him, already racing outside – only to run head-first into Wanderer in the entrance.
"You should come when Sire calls you," Wanderer growled, swatting him, and Leaper squeaked with the strike before running back to Dreamer and huddling to his leg. "He not listens to you," Wanderer then said to Dreamer as he entered the den.
"I am getting there," Dreamer huffed, purring at Fleeting as she entered after Wanderer, then looked down to Leaper. "Pawful more words?" he warbled, nosing Leaper's head. "Who this is?"
Leaper looked up at him, eyes wide and innocent. "I Leaper," he announced proudly, flaring his wings.
"Yes," Dreamer hummed. "Who I am?"
"Sire!"
"Yes!" Simple words, ones he knew well, but back on the right track at least. "Who that?" he asked, gesturing to Fleeting, who sat down and stared back at them.
"Dam!" the fledgling chirruped, running over to her and nuzzling her.
"Yes," she hummed happily, purring and nuzzling his back. "Who that?" she asked, nudging him towards Wanderer.
Leaper stumbled a step and looked up at his sire, face scrunching as his head tilted, thinking very hard. Wanderer looked down at him expectantly while a life-beat passed… Two… Three… Leaper suddenly perked, face lighting up proudly. "Other Sire!"
Wanderer's mouth fell open, while Dreamer and Fleeting wheezed and slowly collapsed onto their sides, gasping and laughing breathlessly. "No, Leaper," Wanderer said, sounding strained and maybe trying not to laugh himself. "Sire. I am Sire."
Dreamer couldn't breathe, he was laughing so hard. Especially when Leaper looked over at him, then at Fleeting, and took a step back, preparing to run. "Other Sire," he cackled mischievously, then shrieked with laughter and fled as Wanderer lunged for him. Regret, excitement! he howled, narrowly avoiding a pounce and slipping between Wanderer's paws to dive under Dreamer's wing.
"You teach him this!?" Wanderer growled, lunging at Dreamer and shoving him onto his back to firmly bite his leg.
"No," Dreamer waved weakly, desperately trying to draw in a breath and hold off the angry bites. What had possessed the little fledgling to say that!?
He finally managed to suck in some air and hold his laughter long enough to kick Wanderer off, then fled for the mouth of the den, Leaper clambering onto but slipping off his back. Fleeting snatched him up as they emerged outside, tossing him onto her own back, and he shrieked and cackled in excitement and glee as Wanderer chased after them with a roar. "It not was me!" Dreamer called back. "I would tell him call you no-teeth!"
Wanderer snarled dangerously, and Dreamer started running a little faster, Fleeting keeping pace and Leaper clinging to her scruff with shrieking laughter. "No-teeth?" she barked questioningly as they ran.
"I called him that for some time," Dreamer laughed, and she barked amusement. "You taught him that?"
"No!" she laughed as she leapt over a low shrub, almost flinging Leaper off her back much to his wild glee. "Keep up, Other Sire!" Wanderer's angry roar set them off laughing again, and Leaper was shrieking and cackling wildly-
It happened remarkably quickly, and though Dreamer was already reacting, he was still too slow to do anything as Leaper jumped from his dam's back and instantly, almost comically, ploughed headlong into a tree with a yelp and a slap.
Dreamer skidded to a halt and leapt back in time to see the crumpled fledgling peel off the tree and fall onto his back. He lay among the tree's roots for a stunned moment, before yowling and whimpering and gingerly pawing at his head, writhing on his back in the leaf litter. A quick sniff ruled out any real external injuries, his scent absent of any blood or raw flesh, and he seemed to be moving okay. "What you do that for," Dreamer crooned sympathetically, lightly licking the hurt fledgling who curled up with a howl of pain.
"You definitely are Leaper," Fleeting huffed dryly as she settled down next to him. Dreamer couldn't quite keep the accusation out of his expression as he glanced up at her, though she did look a little guilty; only a little, mind.
"He not seems much hurt," Dreamer hummed over the whining and whimpering, licking the fledgling again. "Maybe he just needs distracting. Fish?" He'd be due a meal soon anyway.
"We can get fish," Fleeting chuffed, standing and swiftly trotting away. Wanderer gave Leaper a light nuzzle before going with her.
That left Dreamer alone with the noisy fledgling. "You are good?" he warbled to him.
Leaper looked up at Dreamer from where he huddled between his paws, every breath leaving him in a long whine. "Ss… Sire…? I n-not g-ood…"
"I know," Dreamer hummed, licking his head. "You hurt. Sometimes things hurt us… make us sad. Is okay to be sad, if need." Vikings didn't think so, but he wasn't going to pass on those emotionally crippling ideals to his son, even if the fledgling didn't understand what he was saying yet. "Know you will be better after, also stronger. Know to not fly into trees." He nudged him. "You want fish?"
Leaper looked up at him again, the whines quieting a little. "Dam bring fish?"
"Yes," Dreamer chuffed. "Sire also." As amusing as it would be to keep calling Wanderer 'Other Sire', it wouldn't be fair to him or Leaper, and Dreamer was coming around to the idea of sharing the title.
"Dam, Sire, bring fish," Leaper whimpered, curling up tightly against Dreamer's leg to studiously watch the forest, waiting.
Brave little fledgling… That had been quite the crash, he'd be feeling it for a while, but he'd managed to quiet himself to wait patiently for his sire and dam to return. Lesson learned, in any case.
Dreamer leaned back with a long, relieved sigh, figuring he was good enough as done with his not-so-little project. Longer nights and cooler winds were signalling the hot-season coming to a close, the inexorable turning of the seasons seeming to have flown past much more quickly than usual. The cold-season was suddenly no longer some impossibly distant notion.
He thoughtfully eyed the hole he had made – not dug out, but rather built up on. It led to a cave he wanted to try something in, but it needed to be fairly well sealed, and he lacked the tools to build a door or something. His claws, which he held up to his face and sighed at, were deadly weapons, useful for gripping and wonderful for scratching, but not designed with the intention of building anything. Piling large rocks in a ring around the low fissure in the rock and filling the gaps with dirt hadn't seemed like a two day task when he'd resigned himself to doing it.
But it was done, the opening into the cave was now closer to horizontal than vertical and would easily fit under the prey-skin he'd been using to haul up dirt from further down the rough slope. It certainly wasn't an ideal solution, but as he could not build something or find something, he had to make do. The cave was big enough that maybe four Nightstrikers could squeeze into it, sealed, dry, clean, and now with an entrance he could cover. Next night – or if he was honest with himself, a few nights from now – he would start testing.
He roughly rolled up the prey-skin and shoved it inside the cave, then flexed his shoulders and took flight, sighing happily into the wind as it carried him. He felt exhausted, but knowing he was done and could rest was sheer bliss.
It was a unique position that he found himself in. As Chief's heir, he'd needed to be familiar with most of how the village worked. That wasn't relevant now, but he still had that basic understanding of many things, and some of it might even be useful to make their lives a little more comfortable. Sure, it promised to be a lot of work – sometimes it felt like trying to whittle with a broadsword – but it was something to put his mind and paws to. He couldn't spend all his time just flying around.
Not that he didn't immensely enjoy flying. He dove, dropping low to the slope of the mountain and careening through a path of jagged rocks and scraggly trees just for the thrill of it, a single twitch away from grievous injury but entirely confident in his skill even when aching from all the awkward work; this wasn't even close to as fast as he'd screeched down these paths. The ground rushed up towards him and he levelled out over it, groaning happily and wearily as he banked back around towards the den.
Sounds from inside quickly put to rest any wondering about where everyone was as Dreamer drifted into a landing. He folded his wings and trotted inside – freezing in the mouth of the den, his mouth falling open.
It wasn't that Wanderer was on top of Fleeting at the back of the den, gripping each other in a quivering, passionate tangle; that was something Dreamer had adjusted to and accepted, no longer strange or uncomfortable. It was that they were apparently totally unperturbed by the fledgling sat watching them, his head tilted.
Dreamer barked wordlessly as he leaped inside. "Come," he rumbled, ushering Leaper back to the mouth of the den, "we should… go play outside." He was weary, but if Wanderer and Fleeting were that impatient he could manage some light play for a little while.
With the promise of play, Leaper became a lot more cooperative and happily trotted outside to bound around the grass. But when they reached the trees, he slowed to a walk, his head bowed and brow furrowed in thought. "What Sire is do with Dam?" he asked curiously, innocently.
"That is good question," Dreamer grumbled. "We should ask later."
Leaper glanced back to the den, then leapt to catch up. "Dam is good?" he asked tentatively, a little worriedly.
"Dam is very good," Dreamer hummed dryly. "Sire is very happy also. Huff, not worry. You want hunt?"
By way of response, the little fledgling bounded ahead before putting his nose to the ground and avidly sniffing around. Dreamer followed, trying not to pay too much attention lest he be tempted to correct every little detail; much of it was too advanced to teach now, and some things needed to be figured out rather than taught, but it was difficult to watch.
No prey ventured near their den, but the slow walk into the forest while Leaper searched allowed Dreamer to stretch his legs and recover a bit from his night of labour. By the time the scents of thick fur and prey-dung were heavy in the air, he felt more limber and energetic, if somehow also wearier at the same time. "Find trail, follow only that trail," Dreamer hummed, knowing the fledgling was prone to distractions.
Leaper chuffed as he scuttled along the ground, fiercely snuffling it, while Dreamer fell back so as to not accidentally scare away his prey. Though at this rate it would take a while, he seemed intent on locating every pawprint in the grass, turning this into an agonisingly slow process that would not be hurried.
He had a very different life to what Dreamer had lived. He wouldn't go hungry if he didn't catch anything, didn't need to think about how much energy he was using in the process or how much time was slipping by. It grated on Dreamer that this was so slow and inefficient, he should be hunting properly, but at the same time he loved that there was no need, and he held to that feeling. Leaper was free to learn at his own pace, not at a pace dictated by survival.
A gentle breeze blew into Dreamer's face, carrying strong scents of rabbit, a moment before Leaper crouched low behind a tree root in a way that was strikingly similar to when Dreamer had stumbled on a strange female hiding in the treeline… That was over a year ago now, how time had flown. A whole year with their wonderful mate, and half of one with their wonderful son.
Dreamer settled down behind the tree while Leaper crept forwards, putting into practice all the lessons Wanderer had been teaching him. His paw placement was good, and when one of the two rabbits glanced his way he froze, trusting his scales to hide him in the dim light. The rabbit haltingly munched its mouthful of grass, its glassy, vacant eye staring right past the nearby predators… and then took a few slow, languid hops in the other direction to pick at a new patch of grass. Leaper resumed his careful advance-
The second rabbit bolted, closely followed by the first, and Leaper tore after them. Dreamer leapt around the tree and gave chase, though at a bit of a distance, not quite up to chasing down such a speedy little critter. When he caught up, pushing through some shrubs, Leaper was pawing at the ground with drooping wings and ears. "It gone," he mumbled sullenly.
A dark hole under a tree root caught Dreamer's eye, with worn and trodden ground immediately in front of it. "Where it gone?" he asked, walking up to the fledgling and sitting on his haunches next to him.
"Gone!" Leaper yowled, paws sliding forwards so that he was lying on his front.
Dreamer hummed warmly, encouragingly, and nudged him with his snout. "Try scenting for it. Maybe it not is far." He sighed at the stubborn, defeatist growl. "If you try scenting, I will catch fish for you."
Several heartbeats of silence passed while the fledgling mulled over this very difficult decision. "I like fish," he suddenly rumbled, rising to his paws and sniffing at the ground with his tail twitching excitedly. Dreamer purred quietly to himself as they slowly wandered towards the burrow, following the trail of the prey. When they reached it, Leaper cocked his head at it and pawed at the tree root. "Prey went here?" he warbled uncertainly.
"Yes," Dreamer chuffed, leaning down to scent the burrow. "This is prey-den, where it hides from cold, also from us. You think you can fit in there?"
Leaper shoved his head into the hole, finding the opening too narrow for him; that was a pity, having someone small enough to follow rabbits down would make the cold-season a lot easier. "I smell it!" he barked excitedly, and Dreamer had to wonder what this must be like from the prey's perspective. "You can get it Sire!" he barked, hopping back and bouncing on his paws.
"I not can fit in there," Dreamer scoffed, and Leaper wilted. "But…" He stuck his paw inside the hole and dragged his claws through the dirt, loosening it and dragging some out with him. Leaper watched curiously, then when Dreamer gestured to the burrow, hesitantly stepped forwards and pawed at the hole.
He gradually got the idea, with some encouragement, clawing the dirt away until he had his hindpaws planted firmly and forelegs working constantly to throw dirt out behind him. He didn't have much strength or technique yet, and his paws were small, but so was he, and soon his front half had disappeared under the tree root, wings tucked tightly to his body.
Shortly after his haunches had disappeared, and there was just his tail and a bit of hindpaw, he suddenly tensed and jerked. Dreamer was struck with a jolt of worry, and gently but swiftly grabbed the tail to pull him back out-
A thrashing, squealing rabbit came with him, its hindleg firmly in Leaper's teeth. The wide-eyed fledgling could only hold on while the blur of white fur kicked and desperately tried to pull free, powerless against the strong jaws and sharp teeth holding it. "Bite it!" Dreamer barked, heart leaping into his throat and breath catching in his chest, but it was thrashing around so much he couldn't pin it down without also maybe hurting his son-!
Leaper writhed on his side, working his way onto his front and further getting in Dreamer's way, then managed to plant his paws and shook vigorously. When he stilled again, the rabbit was limp and unmoving, eyes unseeing, hanging at a weird angle from its leg. Dreamer let out the breath he was holding, feeling his body relax; he realised he had panicked a bit himself. "You caught it!" he howled joyously, and Leaper dropped it and roared with him. "You want show Dam?"
"Yes!" Leaper immediately barked, then set about trying to pick up his kill. Dreamer chuffed and lowered to his chest, gesturing to his back… but Leaper ignored him to trot back towards the den, head held high to carry the prey. Stubborn little fledgling…
During the long walk back, Dreamer decided that Long-Paws weren't allowed to use the phrase 'they grow up so fast' any more. It had been several months since Leaper had hatched, but it felt like mere days. How long before he went off hunting and flying on his own? Wanted to sleep on his own, instead of curling up under one of his parents' wings? Flew the nest…?
It was with mixed pride and melancholy that he followed the fledgling back to the den, trotting after him as he bounded the distance from the forest to the den, jumping high so that he did not trip over the rabbit dangling from his mouth. Dreamer walked in after him-
The odd look Wanderer and Fleeting gave him while they crooned and praised Leaper reminded Dreamer of why he'd taken the fledgling in the first place. Fleeting gave their son a warm nuzzle as he settled down to eat, then walked past Dreamer with a chuff and a tip of her head, inviting him back out into the pre-dawn light. Dreamer followed, still a bit shocked she and Wanderer had done that. Leaper was at an age he was likely to remember it, seeing his parents mating. That was one thing Dreamer was glad he'd never been subjected to.
"Why you take him away?" Fleeting asked patiently, slowly and deliberately sitting on her haunches in the grass and curling her tail around her paws. Dreamer blinked at her, trying to find some way of responding that would not be insultingly sarcastic. She sighed and rolled her head, tail flicking against her paws. "I not know how you grew as fledgling. I not need know that, I only need know you now." She spoke with love, affection, but also frustration, pity. "I know you now. Because I stayed."
What did that mean? Dreamer was beginning to get a sinking feeling; he still felt righteous frustration, but doubt was worming its way in as Fleeting confidently held his gaze. "I nearly not stayed," she said with a huff. "Wanderer not showed me any wanting, you wanted me always but run from me." She laughed bitterly. "I hated being alone, but… if I not was much alone… I maybe not would be here now…" Her tone conveyed her sadness at that, her happiness for how it had turned out, driving home what she was saying. "You want us make him like that?" she asked sharply. "Make him like you? You liked being like that?"
Dreamer baulked, taking a step back and sinking to his haunches. "I…" He roughly shook his head, trying to organise his thoughts. "I not want him be like me," he agreed; he had been awkward and difficult at every turn, which had been anything but enjoyable. "But we can teach him better!"
"How you want teach him then?" she asked tersely.
"We can…"
The words turned to ash in his mouth before he could speak them; the mere thought of giving 'the talk' made him want to cringe. Instead, he let his gaze drift out across the forest, watching the leaves sway in the breeze to the backdrop of the brightening sky. Everything here was raw nature, the mere concept of modesty was a whole mountain away. How could he even begin to explain?
"I not know what you thinking," Fleeting hummed flatly, "but you not think it will teach him well. I not know other way. How else he will know how to show he wants female? How he will know how to make female happy? But if you hide from him, he…"
She trailed off, staring at him, her curled upper lip relaxing as some of the frustration bled out of her. "He will think he needs hide also," she groaned, pawing at her head. "I say this before, but you are strange. Huff. You not need teach him. But I, also Wanderer, will teach him."
But… Leaper was his son too, and he… but this… was wrong! "Lightstrikers tell us find somewhere private for mating," he blurted out, suddenly remembering Rising's warning when they'd arrived… even if the females hadn't exactly adhered to that themselves.
"We not are Lightstrikers," Fleeting growled. "I watched my parents mate. Was good seeing them happy. Why you not want him see? What you think will happen?"
Frustration, Dreamer growled; forget being tongue-tied, his whole body felt like it was in knots, preventing him from properly explaining himself. But… he could kind of see her point. He'd always been envious of Wanderer's nonchalance, but he hadn't stopped to think about why it wasn't such a big deal. That didn't mean he agreed, and he certainly wasn't going to be taking part in those particular lessons, but… this was how Nightstrikers lived, apparently, and put on the spot like this he had no coherent argument to voice against it. "I need to think," he rumbled, pawing at the ground.
Fleeting gently nuzzled under his jaw with a purr, the vibration radiating through his head and blurring his sight a little, then stepped into him and rubbed the length of her back against his neck. "He not need see all," she hummed while he leaned into her, his body responding on its own and further clouding his thoughts. "He too young for seeing his dam chased through trees like helpless prey…"
Her tail-fins flicked off his chin as she skipped off towards the forest, light but fast on her paws. Dreamer sat there with her warm, lingering scent, still feeling uneasy but only able to murmur in agreement…
Wait, what'd she just say?
With the hot-season well past them, and the leaves turning colour and falling from the trees to signal the cooling-season preparing to give way to the cold-season, Dreamer found himself with more of a mind on food than before.
They could survive, he knew that, had done it twice already. The land-prey would leave, and the lake and river would turn to ice, depriving them of their main sources of food, but the rabbits plaguing the forest were sufficient. At least, that had been the case with three of them. Leaper's hunting was coming along, but rabbits were fast and elusive prey, and he didn't have a hope of chasing one down without a partner; while that was an efficient hunt for his size, that was not the case for any of the adults without resorting to using their fire.
So it was important to be as prepared as they could be. That wouldn't normally mean much for Nightstrikers, but Dreamer was a special case, he had knowledge of food preservation that would hopefully keep them comfortable through the cold-season. That said, his knowledge was far from complete, requiring testing and experimentation.
The rain that had left its heavy scent in the air had been a good opportunity, and a good learning experience. The huge mouthful of meat Dreamer was carrying as he glided down the mountain this cool afternoon, dozens of thin strips of it, was no longer suitable for keeping, but it would serve as a welcome snack, and despite the sky-fire just beginning to dip behind the mountain he knew the others were already up as well.
He descended towards the forest near the den, backwinged into a landing, and trotted into the trees to find Fleeting and Leaper engaging themselves in a thorough grooming. Or rather, Fleeting was elegantly lying on her side with a hindleg stretched out to lick it, and Leaper was doing his best to mimic her, seemingly infinitely more awkward. He was sat on his rump, frequently glancing up at his dam, his wings and a hindleg stiffly jutting out while he tried to wrestle his other leg into position. "Sire!" he barked, suddenly noticing Dreamer, and scrambled to his paws to run over.
Dreamer purred at him as he avidly sniffed the meat, eyes wide and nose twitching, then dropped it onto the leaf litter that covered the ground and slung a few strips the fledgling's way. Leaper hopped back and lunged again to basically press his nose to them, snuffling loudly. Fleeting was similarly curious and cautious, avidly sniffing about the main pile. "Why this smells like smoke?" she growled quietly. "This your weird food that not rot."
"It still will rot," Dreamer purred while he licked the lingering flavour off his mouth. "But will take much longer. Wrrr, water got into cave last light, I learned I not can do this while raining, so this needs eating now." Between the puddle that had seeped into the cave and the generally wet air, there was no chance of it drying properly. But he could smell rain coming nights ahead of time, and could just work around that.
Fleeting's tongue flicked out to give the pile a little lick… and another… then she was picking out one of the stiff strips with her teeth. Dreamer sniggered to himself as she purred and awkwardly chewed the tough meat, having almost as much difficulty as Leaper who was holding it down with his paws-
Dreamer yelped as something tackled him from behind, reflexively twisting and kicking back at the dark shape bearing down on him. He was forced onto his back, very much not where he wanted to be, but quick paws and parted teeth were sufficient to prevent Wanderer from properly pinning him. They growled at each other, Wanderer's eyes alight with challenge and amusement while he probed for an opening. Dreamer snorted. "I almost think you not want chewy, tasty meat," he teased, sending Wanderer's ears up and his snout twitching.
Alarm! they both barked as they noticed Fleeting quietly scoffing beyond her share of the meat. She snatched up most of the pile and leapt away as they scrambled to find their paws and leap after her. "Go!" Dreamer barked to Wanderer, spinning to grab Leaper-
The fledgling's eyes went wide, and he snatched up what was left of his meat and what Fleeting hadn't managed to grab and bolted with it. Not you too…! Dreamer raced after him with a growl, keeping pace but lacking a good opening to grab him; gone now were the days they could simply pick him up in their teeth. He could at least herd him around so that they were going in the same direction Fleeting had run off in.
Leaper raced as if his meal depended on it, which it probably did in his mind given how Fleeting had run off with the rest of it; at least there wasn't any worry that they wouldn't like the preserved meat. While Dreamer tried to get close enough to grab his scruff without tripping over or trampling him, desperate shrieks sounded in the distance, where they were heading. Leaper started running a little faster, towards the sounds – they both skidded to a stop and tilted their heads at the scene that met them.
Wanderer had somehow got under Fleeting's wing to pin her on her side, holding down the thrashing female with his body on hers and teeth in her neck. She was thrashing because his hindclaws were scraping over her belly and the inside of her hindleg, trying to loosen her jaws to paw the stiff strips of meat from her mouth, though with little success. He was growling, determined, while she was defeated but equally unwilling to concede.
With a gleeful bark, Leaper dropped his meat and bounded over to the tangle – Fleeting's shrieks devolved into breathless laughter, and Dreamer had to laugh himself even as he leapt after the fledgling, who had snatched a good half of the remaining meat from Fleeting's teeth to run off with it. He only got about two bounds before Dreamer pounced him, holding him down and prying it away from him. "You will be sick eating all that," he laughed, "I think you have enough already." He released him after retrieving what he'd taken, then had to laugh again as Leaper whined and stood up on his hindlegs to paw at Dreamer's chest, reaching out to the tasty food; he seemed to have forgotten what he'd dropped earlier.
Dreamer backed away from his begging son, letting him fall to the ground, and returned to Fleeting to swat at her and retrieve the rest of what she'd stolen. Once it was back in the paws of someone responsible, Wanderer let her up, and she scrambled to her paws and vigorously shook herself off. Dreamer kept an eye on her – she was watching the food the same way she watched a fish swimming in the shallows – while he divided up what was left… into two piles, one for Wanderer and one for himself. She looked up at him with a pleading whine, shuffling away from Wanderer who was glaring at her. Dreamer just hummed patronisingly at her, making a show of further separating the two piles and edging the larger one towards Wanderer.
She shuffled around him, lightly touched her snout to his neck behind his frills, and whined again, a long, pleading, miserable sound almost directly into his ear. He couldn't help but laugh; she was such a proud and strong Nightstriker, but not above begging when it suited her. She switched to a quiet, hopeful purr, lightly licking his neck, and he laughed again as he pawed out a third pile, taking a couple of bits from Wanderer's and almost half of his own; that wasn't solely because Wanderer put a paw over the rest of his with a growl, Dreamer knew he could do better, so this attempt at preserved meat had something of a taint of failure, at least to him.
Leaper pawed at him with a whine while they settled down to eat, in a passable mimicry of what his dam had done. "You still have some over there," Dreamer laughed, then purred amusement, adoring, as the fledgling raced off to retrieve it. "You not needed take more," he then chuckled to Fleeting, "you not had this before so would give you more." Wanderer growled possessively, putting a paw over his share again.
"This was more fun," Fleeting chirped, shooting a smug look at Wanderer, then looked to Dreamer with amusement in her gaze. "Not tell me you not wanted hear me whine…"
Dreamer opened his mouth to respond – then blinked at her, finding no words to say. They were well into the cooling-season, though he wasn't feeling quite as fiery as he had last year… but now that she mentioned it, that time was coming again. "Maybe," he mumbled, turning his focus back to his snack and ignoring her amused rumbling.
After they had finished, and Dreamer had received loving, thankful nuzzles, he stood with a stretch. "I want play with Leaper," he hummed, watching the fledgling who was following something through the damp leaf litter. "You can rest if want." He hadn't spent as much time with him as he'd wanted lately, but the desire to do so was more personal than anything, Leaper wasn't even close to being neglected.
Agreement, Fleeting chuffed, before hopping and flapping up into a nearby tree to hang from it by her tail and wrap herself in her wings. Wanderer looked up at her with a thoughtful hum, then flapped up and shuffled over to hang next to her. However, instead of furling up as she had, he nosed and pawed his way around her wings until she opened them to swat at him with an annoyed growl, and-
"I think that mean we should leave now," Dreamer huffed to Leaper, turning his back on the quivering bundle of wings.
Leaper bounded over and proudly looked up at him, then licked at his snout – as Dreamer watched, something with too many long, spindly legs crawled its way out of his mouth, onto his nose, only for that long tongue to dart out and pull it back again. Dreamer shuddered, reaching out with a paw, then shuddered again as the fledgling swallowed. He remembered eating bugs, back when he'd been small enough that they could pass as a modest snack, but big furry bugs that seemed to have more leg than body were a disturbing notion. At least it had taken his mind off his mate.
He chuffed and gestured for Leaper to hop onto his back, which he did gleefully, then leaped up through the thinning canopy and angled into the wind, soaring on the lift it provided him to drift out over the forest. A new place to explore, further west along the mountain, but mainly away from Wanderer and Fleeting; not necessarily to take Leaper away from them, but rather because they were a distraction, and Dreamer wanted to play with his son uninterrupted.
Living up to his namesake, Leaper jumped off and took wing himself, flapping his wings with confidence and roaring happily as he swerved and banked around. Dreamer laughed, throwing himself into the fun and chasing after him, while the fledgling laughed and squealed and kept looking back.
"Watch where you going!" Dreamer called out as Leaper veered off and nearly lost control for the third time. Maybe he wasn't quite up to being chased yet – or perhaps it was just that he needed to practise and learn. It was often difficult to know. He seemed to be having fun, at least.
Leaper suddenly flared his wings to land in a tree, breaking through the leaves to grab the little branches near the top. Dreamer ducked through a nearby gap, briefly pulling his wings in tight before throwing them out and flapping hard, though it was still a bit of a rough landing; this part of the forest was thick. He found himself knee-deep in a leafy tangle of bushes and vines, and that where it was shallow. It rose to meet the trees within it, and promised to be a real pain to traverse.
Or, in the case of an energetic little fledgling, an incredibly fun playground to frolic in. Dreamer couldn't see him, but a disturbance raced through the leafery, kicking up numerous bugs that drifted around in the scattered shafts of late afternoon light. A second disturbance suddenly bolted away from the first, which immediately gave chase but was left behind a short distance into the trees with a disappointed, frustrated growl.
Dreamer purred warmly as he picked his way through the thicket towards him, doing his best to be stealthy but thwarted with every step by snagging vines and harmless thorns that loudly shook the leaves. Leaper scurried around him, far less impeded, making use of prey-trails along the ground that Dreamer could just see glimpses of.
It made for a great handicap while Dreamer pounced at him, leaping around the thicket and trying to trap him, though it was difficult without knowing where the trails were. He just had the rustling of the leaves to follow, and the occasional giggles after a close escape.
But slowly, Dreamer was working him towards the edge of the thicket, where there would be nowhere left to run. He purred confidently to himself while he watched the place he was pretty sure Leaper was hiding, edging towards it and remaining ready to pounce. Closer… Closer…
An uneasy feeling settled over him when a vine snagged his paw, but nothing happened. He pounced at the tangled lump of scraggly shrub, only to find it empty. The only sounds around him were the leaves rustling in the wind. "Leaper?" he warbled, putting his nose to the ground and trying to get a scent; he could tell he'd been there, but following the trail would be next to impossible. "Leaper!" he barked, "Come!"
Silence, save for the light rustling of the trees, and an insect buzzing nearby. "Come!" he barked, louder, but there was still no reply.
Dreamer rumbled warily, trying to reassure himself that it was fine. These forests were home to a few small predators, but nothing that would attack a Nightstriker fledgling for no reason, and regardless would give plenty of warning first that a Nightstriker would hear from quite a distance. He calmed his breaths, hopping out of the leafy tangle to sit on his haunches and lift his ears, focusing on the sounds of the forest. Beyond the rustling leaves, the buzzing insects, creaking branches…
The slow hoofsteps of large prey, maybe three or four of them, picking up speed. They were somewhat distant, but the hard hoofs were crunching leaves and breaking twigs, helping the sounds carry. Dreamer followed the edge of the thicket towards the sounds, scenting the ground, and picked up Leaper's trail again, leading away. Disobedient little… He resolved to have stern words later.
He loped towards the sound, periodically stopping to ensure he was still on his son's trail; he'd managed to sneak quite the distance, were it not for the circumstances Dreamer would have been proud. Everything would be fine, it had to be, but something was gnawing at Dreamer – larger prey did not usually wander this close to the mountain, preferring being closer to the open fields. He quieted his pawsteps even as he picked up the pace, wanting to call out again but not wanting to alert any possible dangers…
The prey-hoofsteps he was approaching came to an abrupt halt, and fear spurred Dreamer on – he was no longer checking for Leaper's trail, preferring to find this potential danger first and then track him down afterwards if still necessary. Then he could laugh about it after the fact, finding amusement in hindsight because there was nothing dangerous in these trees…
Tense whispering sent an icy chill down his back as it disabused him of that notion, Long-Paw whispering. No… No! Foregoing all caution, Dreamer launched into a sprint, erupting onto the scene moments later and absorbing it all in an instant. Three Long-Paws, each on a prey-mount with long heads and long scruffy fur off the backs of their necks, staring at Leaper, who was simply standing a couple of body-lengths in front of them and staring back curiously.
The Long-Paw in the middle was slightly ahead of the other two, and held an arrow nocked to his bow, not aimed but with tension on the string, preparing to fire, eyes wide and shoulders tense. The other two also held bows with arrows nocked, but did not appear to be making any move to use them, instead looking as if they were far more interested in running away.
All of that analysis in an instant, and then Dreamer was sliding to a halt in front of his son, crouching, teeth bared and a deadly snarl crackling from his throat. "Stay," he firmly gestured to Leaper as he shielded him with his own much tougher body, eyes firmly on the Long-Paw in the middle.
The horses fought their reins and backed away, grunting in alarm, but their riders kept the leather straps taut, watching Dreamer tensely with rapid breaths, showing every mote of fear any Southerner ever had but with far more reason. "Leave," he snarled dangerously, tossing his head toward the way they had come. While the horses kept backing away, the Long-Paws kept trying to hold them in place for some unfathomable reason. "Leave!" Dreamer barked, never ceasing his deep growl-
Leaper ducked around his leg, momentarily taking Dreamer's attention to firmly shove him back, though he stubbornly dug in his claws. During that time, Dreamer's eyes, dilated to look at his son, had expanded his vision to see the bow lift to fire.
Dreamer fired first, taking no risks with that weapon around his son and instantly obliterating it along with most of the arm behind it. The snap of the taut bow was audible over the explosion, the string whipping around and probably causing further injury, though it was difficult to tell with the panicking horses. The riders weren't much more composed, one clutching his grizzly stump of an arm and the others heaving on the reins to turn.
With two being guided, and the third no longer restrained, all three horses turned and fled, galloping as swiftly through the dense forest as such stocky prey could be expected to. Dreamer watched and listened to them go, holding Leaper back with a paw, before slowly turning to him.
He looked pleased, though not so much once his sire's eyes narrowed on him. He hadn't stayed nearby. He hadn't come when called. He hadn't stayed when told. He hadn't recognised the danger of the situation.
Dreamer's blood was raw fury in his veins. His paw lifted and lashed out, no longer under his control, and knocked the fledgling onto his side, gritting his teeth at the pained yelp. He lashed out again, twice, three times, each eliciting a louder and more pained yelp, firmly striking his shoulder and flank where there would be pain but no damage, before finally, tentatively, wresting control of himself.
He stared down at his son with wide eyes and clenched teeth. Leaper was choking on his sobs, practically gasping for breath, curling around a little and huddling to the ground but not trying to flee or hide himself.
The worst part was that Dreamer didn't want to stop; that fury still boiled under his scales, demanding retribution. He couldn't even think through the red haze, and even through the horror of his own actions, he wanted the fledgling to hurt, to know never to do this again.
It took time, but slow, steady breaths prevailed. Not to quell the rage, that was going to take much more time, but he was in control of himself again. "Up," he grunted, lowering a shoulder, and Leaper scrambled to climb onto his back; Dreamer had to restrain himself from biting the fledgling and shoving him up a little quicker. He was still choking back whines, but his little claws dug in to secure him there, and he held on while they none too gently took to the air.
Dreamer flew swiftly to the empty den, and Leaper jumped from his back to scramble inside. "Stay," Dreamer said firmly with a growl, though Leaper was obviously far more interested in curling up under his wing against the far wall.
Leaving him here on his own wasn't ideal, but Wanderer and Fleeting would worry more than was necessary, and Dreamer selfishly didn't want them to see this, not right now. Later, he would explain and feel remorse, but right now all he had was a fire to burn and probably something that needed burning.
He leapt back into the air and flew back to where the Long-Paws had fled from, crashing through the trees and landing heavily to put his nose to the ground. Horses turned out to be easy to follow even had there not been a trail of fresh blood, the scent of their fur pungent in the air where they had run, and allowed him to swiftly follow them back through the forest, the way they had come and the way they had fled. Back to wherever they had originated from.
His internal map put him almost directly on the other side of the mountain from the Long-Paw nest, and he had a sinking feeling that he already knew the answer. But he followed the trail, because he could be quick about it, to find a big unnatural hole in the ground surrounded by felled trees. The tunnel stretched into the mountain, echoing with the sound of the fleeing horses, a horde of hard impacts against the rock making Dreamer's head ring. The wide entrance was propped up with wooden struts, and crate of tools lay nearby, some of which were scattered around in piles of damp sawdust.
Dreamer eyed the tracks in the dirt, scented the ground around the site. Only the three horses had ventured out, which had all returned, though there were several more scents immediately around the hole itself. One was even fresh, though the boot prints in the mud stopped abruptly by one of the horse tracks where it seemed to have milled around for a bit.
There weren't any more Long-Paws on this side of the mountain; though there still appeared to be some in the mountain, if the distant echoes were anything to go by. Dreamer walked inside – there was room enough for a wagon in here – and since he couldn't see anything other than intermittent supports gradually curving around with the tunnel, closed his eyes to listen. They were a fair distance through, probably three quarters of the way back to their nest if he had to guess. Far enough that they would make it through.
He inhaled, channelling all the rage still seething within him, and fired as far inside it as he could see. The shot hissed through the hole in the rock, a beacon of light that streaked through the darkness, until it impacted the wall near one of the distant supports with a loud but muffled explosion. Immediately the tunnel filled with dust, obscuring the result, but the sound of crumbling rock was difficult to mistake. Dreamer fired again at the same place, hoping to further destabilise that part, then fired a few more shots a bit closer each time, causing multiple cave-ins.
After burning through most of his fire and finally beginning to calm, he snorted derisively and turned tail on the place. Combined with the injured Long-Paw, the message should be clear enough; stay on your side of the mountain.
Still, it made him uneasy. His perfectly safe and tranquil territory was no longer that, and now they would need to watch for further intrusions. He hoped the Long-Paws would take the hint, but they were stubborn creatures, and now that possibility was always there. At least, as long as their nest survived…
He shook his head of the dark thought and took wing back towards his den, thoughts on how they would keep watch and reconciling with Leaper. He… did regret losing control, but much stronger than that was a pang of sympathy for his own sire. How often had Dreamer, as a Long-Paw fledgling, not listened, and almost got himself killed as a result? Pretty much every raid. And as much as he kept trying to convince himself it was different… the immediate scenario was comparable.
But he wouldn't idolise danger, make his son feel as if he needed to compete. Dreamer had been trying to help, to prove himself. He could and did give his own son other ways to earn respect. No, this had been sheer disobedience, plain and simple.
He alighted outside the den and sighed to himself at hearing Leaper still whimpering inside, and Wanderer and Fleeting murmuring. He steeled himself and walked in, finding Fleeting crouched near Leaper, not quite comforting him but just trying to get him to talk, and Wanderer sat nearby. "Sire h-hit m-me," Leaper whined piteously, and Fleeting and Wanderer looked to Dreamer in surprise.
Dreamer sighed again. "Being sire not is easy," he rumbled as he padded inside, then lay near Leaper and lifted a wing. After only a heartbeat of sniffling contemplation, Leaper shuffled over to him and huddled against his side, and Dreamer lowered his wing over him before turning to Wanderer and Fleeting. "We need to talk."