Water was well known as being a requirement for all living things. Prey would always be found living near water, or migrating to or from it. Crops and trees refused to grow in its absence, and held it behind their bark and within their leaves. Even rot could be held at bay by taking the water out of any kind of food. Dreamer understood this. He also knew that Grimmel understood this, being how he had hunted them over the previous hot-season.
The hot-season was inconvenient. For the most part the air was dry, and while the warmth was nice, Dreamer could feel it leeching the water from his mouth as they sped through the sky, over the forest. It was not necessary that they stopped for water every night, but doing otherwise would leave them parched and weak by the end of the second night, where there was no guarantee of water or an absence of Death-Grippers. He knew this, and therefore Grimmel also knew this.
The small lake they were coming up on looked inviting and unassuming, a blot on the monotone shades of the fields surrounding it. "Stay here with Dam," he rumbled to Leaper, who flew on his own wings; he was now far too big to carry. His son didn't respond, only looked at him with confusion and worry.
Dreamer huffed and dropped into a silent dive, Wanderer plummeting just behind him. The grass, about shoulder-height, didn't appear to be hiding any Death-Grippers – they would be immediately obvious from above, and the scattered shrubs and low plants weren't much cover. Still, Wanderer slowed as they approached, and Dreamer leaned back to brake against the wind and descend more cautiously, eyes and ears sharp, just to be safe…
He saw and heard it at the same time, one of the odd shrubs violently twitching as a loud crack echoed into the night, and something whizzed through the air he'd been occupying a moment prior. He had already ducked into a dive, practically skimming the water and veering away from what looked like a net that splashed down somewhere behind him.
Light suddenly filled the area, several fires springing to life and casting dancing shadows as the shrubs scurried about. The warm orange light was quickly interrupted by flashes of blue, a shot streaking down from above to strike something just ahead of Dreamer, which he angled towards to ride the fierce updraft it created.
Glancing back, he saw Wanderer leaping around the lake, a dark blur of death bearing down on each shrub and tearing apart the Long-Paws beneath. Dreamer fired a single shot, obliterating what looked like another ballista as well as the two Long-Paws dragging it around to aim it, then swooped down into the fray himself to grab a shrub and tear into it.
Leaves and vines tangled his claws and prevented him from truly shredding the flesh beneath, but the unfortunate Long-Paw was helpless against his weight, and a brief scream was cut short with a crunch. A net fell short as he leapt away, keeping mobile, never making a target of himself as he lunged through the grass to bite down on another Long-Paw.
The fools never stood a chance against the twin storms of shadowy death they had tried to ambush, their nets and weapons finding only air as they were flung about inexpertly, almost blindly. Dreamer dispatched one with a heavy swipe and a satisfying crunch to find the last enemy fading in Wanderer's crushing jaws, feebly struggling a moment before going limp.
"This what you want!?" Dreamer barked at the nearest corpse, then snorted violently. He should be sickened by all the death, how he hadn't hesitated, the fact that he felt exhilarated from the fight, but more than anything he just felt angry. What had they expected, attacking Nightstrikers at night? Even a fairly clear night, with a modest sliver of sky-ice.
Wanderer gave him a considering look, then huffed to himself and started looking around, nose twitching for scents. Dreamer's anger dissipated at that, leaving a lingering bitterness.
He huffed and put his own nose to the ground, looking for a scent while the rest of their family descended to a landing by the water. They had picked this lake to head to for a few reasons, one of them being how exposed it was, so it was a fair guarantee there were no more dangers nearby. Whether anyone had noticed the now-dying fires was another matter, but they weren't sticking around anyway.
"Only one," Wanderer rumbled as Dreamer met him on the other side of the lake. "Over here." Dreamer followed him at a trot to the scent of a Death-Gripper that had meandered around by the water.
It stank like the others they had fought, almost acrid to his nose. "I not find any," he confirmed, then padded to the water to drink his fill. One Death-Gripper, probably Grimmel checking on these people he must have left to watch the lake while the rest of the flock scoured the forest. Not what they were looking for, though it did suggest Grimmel had known about their hiding place for some time now, at least a month. It also meant they probably couldn't single out the Death-Grippers as they had last hot-season.
The other reason they had flown this direction was what both Fleeting and Reaching reported, that to the east lay a massive mountain range that split the land from north to south, beyond which lay the coast. Between wandering and fleeing, they had travelled nearly the full breadth of the land, though it was difficult to say which had taken them further. Grimmel might be anticipating that, but more to the point, they needed to travel further inland.
Nothing could survive without water. Not a family of Nightstrikers, but also not a flock of Deathgrippers. They'd come from somewhere, and it was unlikely Grimmel had thought to hide that. Wild dragons would either flee or attack the threat at paw, not try to dismantle that threat at the source; to be fair, Dreamer himself had taken this long to think of it.
"This smell bad," Leaper exclaimed from nearby, and Dreamer looked back to find him scenting and pawing at one of the piles of leaves.
Dreamer trotted over, of half a mind to pull the fledgling back and keep him away from danger… "That is Long-Paw," he rumbled as he walked up beside him to paw at the leaves, cutting through the vines and exposing the body beneath. "They have strong thinking, like us. Make many things." A growl built under his breath as he exposed the face, the man's eyes and mouth frozen wide in fear. "They always want more. They wanted our prey, so tried to take it. Wanted our territory, so tried to kill us. They not understand us, get angry when we bite back." He sighed, giving Leaper's head a little nuzzle. "Stay away from them, if you can. They are weak, but make very strong claws, can shoot things that hurt us or make us sick. Too many to fight, always will be more."
"Make us sick like I was sick?" Leaper warbled, shuffling his paws uncomfortably.
"Worse," Dreamer huffed. "Can make us feel much pain, or take our thinking."
Leaper closely examined the body for a few moments, his nose twitching. "I will stay away from them, Sire." This apparently didn't apply to dead ones, though, as he carried on his investigation of the corpse, churring curiously as he picked at the clothes with his claws and prodded the soft skin. Perhaps some curiosity wasn't a bad thing, as long as he was careful…
Struck by one last thought, Dreamer pawed the Long-Paw's knife from his belt and let it fall to the trampled grass. "Careful this scent," he explained as Leaper put his nose to the weapon. "This claw is very sharp. Always be wary of it." Understanding, agreement, Leaper chuffed.
Unable to continue watching the morbid curiosity, Dreamer padded back to the water where the others were resting and keeping watch, and silently lay down nearby. Fleeting gave him a quiet purr, which he acknowledged with a small toss of his head.
He still felt no regret. Was that a bad thing? This was, he suddenly realised, the first time he had intentionally killed someone. He had tried in the past, and almost certainly caused a few deaths from dealing moderate injuries or throwing people off their boat, but this was the first time he had tried and succeeded. And it had been easy. So easy that they had all only used a single shot, which would recharge before long. Far be it for him to try to save fools running to a stupid death, the safety of his family came first, but it was unsettling just how okay he was with all this.
Not that he would be laying waste to entire towns or anything like that, only people who had made their choice. Like Grimmel and his lackeys.
Wanderer shuffled over and put a wing over him as he sighed and rested his head on his paws, making the most of the short rest. Grimmel would get his due, one night. Until then, there was a lot more fighting to do.
How long did these hunters sit here, Wanderer wondered as he stalked them, all just waiting for their deaths. Long-Paws slept at night, but behind all the leaves and mud they wore, he couldn't tell if these were sleeping or not.
Wrrr, at least one of them must be awake, to keep watch on the lake. If any of them, that would be the one Fleeting was creeping towards, high up a tree overlooking the lake nestled into a forest. How they expected to see anything in this darkness, a particularly cloudy night with intermittent drizzles of rain, was anyone's guess… although if they were expecting to catch their prey unaware, they might have had some chance.
But they had to know by now. This was the third night of tearing apart the hunters waiting in ambush by water sources around that stupid forest they had lived in since the cooling-season; randomly, so as to not be predictable and fly head-first into a flock of Death-Grippers. They knew this area, knew where they would find water and prey, so could afford to eschew food and water for a night to reach their next target.
"Watch," Wanderer said silently to Leaper, gesturing up at his dam. "Wait." Leaper gave his head a little toss in acknowledgement, keen eyes glinting in the dark light as he remained wary of the threats. The conditions afforded good opportunity, both to more thoroughly scout the area and to bring everyone in on the hunt; not only to ease the burden on Wanderer and Dreamer, but also to give everyone else, including Leaper, some necessary experience.
Fleeting silently ascended the tree immediately beside her prey, her long body twisting between the branches, moving slowly, deliberately. She came up level with it and prowled out along a branch that reached out to the other tree, the creaking and bowing masked by the wind rustling through the leaves. The Long-Paw had no hope, no warning of the teeth that clamped down over its shoulder, crushing his chest with a loud crack.
Pawfuls of life-beats passed, while the only new sound was the laboured, desperate breathing from between Fleeting's crushing teeth. If the others had not heard her bite down, if they were all still sleeping, this would be a very easy hunt…
"Wha' wassat?" another Long-Paw barked tensely, and the bushes around the lake started fidgeting. Another started grumbling about the darkness, only to cut off with a muted thump and a grunt.
Dreamer prowled just behind the treeline of the other end of the lake, coming up behind a suspiciously large shrub, probably a disguised weapon, and Wanderer took that as his cue to approach his own target. Leaper had his eyes fixed on another nearby, staying close but moving independently. He knew how to hunt, he knew how to fight, and he knew these Long-Paws were going to try to kill him.
They were going to try, but they had no hope in this darkness. Wanderer silently padded right up to one of the camouflaged Long-Paws and pushed it from its half-crouch onto its back and crushed its chest. It didn't even have time to cry out, but the cracking of bones and spluttering gurgles sounding from around the lake were enough to alert even these clueless hunters; and even if it wasn't, a corpse falling from a tree certainly was.
Shouts of alarm rang in Wanderer's ears as he pounced a second with a snarl, his teeth and claws rending flesh behind the leaves and vines. Fires roared into life, a line of them racing around the lake and igniting piles of kindling as they went, but that would never have saved them, least of all now. They were already in disarray, nearly half of them dead and many scrambling to distance themselves from the five Nightstrikers tearing through them.
He kept an eye on Leaper throughout, watching him take his second kill by clamping his teeth on one from behind and ripping at it with his claws until it stopped moving, but he seemed to be having trouble with the third. He was focused on one Long-Paw in particular, one the others were avoiding for his benefit, trying to get around its weapon. The blade at the end of the stick kept pointing at him however much he snarled and leapt around, neither of them willing to commit and risk themselves.
They were still at it by the time the rest of the Long-Paws were dead, although that was mere pawfuls of life-beats. Neither Leaper nor his prey seemed to realise the fighting was over, both of them a bit frenzied and flinching back from each other's lunges. It only ended when Dreamer walked up behind the Long-Paw and snarled into the back of his head.
The Long-Paw froze, the loose leafage hanging off it swaying for a moment longer. Leaper backed off while it turned, slowly shuffling around, though for some reason Dreamer wasn't killing it, just sitting on his haunches and glaring at it. The Long-Paw stared at him in the flickering light… then suddenly tensed, its long claw flashing, only for Dreamer's shot to strike it in the chest.
Dreamer watched with contempt as the corpse fell, bonelessly dropping to the ground. He sighed, tossing his head, and warbled warmly to Leaper as he padded over to gently nuzzle him.
Disgusted, Fleeting barked, swiftly trotting past Wanderer towards the water. "These things taste terrible," she growled before dunking her whole head underwater and heaving it around with great splashes. Wanderer somewhat knew her pain, had learned how hard to bite and in which places so that he didn't suffer it much, his teeth leaving only a smear of bitterness as they slid back into his gums.
Agreement, Reaching grunted, pawing at her own tongue before following Fleeting's example and shoving her head into the water. Dreamer was explaining to a panting Leaper that he should have leapt after another target, staying mobile and keeping the enemy confused and distracted. That left Wanderer to check for scents, he supposed, so he put his nose to the ground to do exactly that. The scent of Long-Paw blood was heavy in the air, but with some difficulty, and a bit of distance from any fighting, he managed to sift through it to the older scents beneath, clinging to the ground…
Death-Grippers. Pawfuls of them, as many as last hot-season. Finally… He bared his teeth, eager to move on with this hunt.
Leaper was taking a drink by his dam while she and Reaching talked to each other in growls, probably still flying on the excitement of the fight, and Dreamer stared listlessly into the water. Wanderer barked for his attention – then, when he didn't seem to notice, trotted around the lake towards him. "You are good?" he asked, subtly scenting the air for hurts.
Frustration, weary, Dreamer growled, slumping further onto his haunches. "I not liked this. We attacked them. Not defended ourselves." Derision, he snorted. "I would let him live. That Long-Paw that Leaper was fighting. Not attacked him. But he attacked me. I not understand… why…"
"Think maybe he die anyway, maybe," Wanderer rumbled. "Maybe think trying kill you is better. Maybe not know what else should do. Maybe just was stupid."
"That not make me feel better," Dreamer groaned.
Wanderer shrugged. "Death-Grippers were here," he chuffed, gesturing to where he'd found the scents, and Dreamer immediately perked and trotted over to scent for himself. These fights were hardly straining, particularly this one with all of them involved, but nor were they satisfying in any way. That would come later in this hunt.
"I can easily find better taste," Wanderer heard Fleeting growl a bit more loudly, looking up to see her prowling towards him with narrowed eyes. "But not here."
He startled out of his confusion as she snapped at his tail with a growl of hunting, pouncing at him as he leapt away and chasing him into the trees and darkness beyond.
Dreamer stared off into the night, the expanse of darkness stretching out in the distance below as he flew, eyes unimpeded by the lack of light. They were flying at only a modest pace, both to conserve their energy and because Leaper could not fly much faster for long. It was even marginally slower than when they'd carried him, and exhausted at that. They weren't starting out so exhausted this time. Not even after fighting the Long-Paws waiting in ambush; that had been annoying, and disappointing that they would throw their lives away, but not particularly tiring.
Perhaps they could have gone for the non-lethal approach, as they had in the past. But in the past, anyone hunting them had not been trying to kill them. In the past, there hadn't been a constant sense of doom hanging over them in the form of a score of Death-Grippers and the human directing them. Were it just him and Wanderer, he might have considered the risk acceptable, to spend the extra effort to incapacitate instead of kill. But being responsible for Fleeting and Leaper, and Reaching as well to a lesser extent, a lucky hit punching through his wing or something would have far more dire consequences. How little his resolve was worth; he considered a single member of his family far more important than any number of Long-Paws.
Hunt or be hunted. Kill or be killed. That was the nature of the world, well beyond his power to change. Long-Paws unwittingly hunted land and resources from Nightstrikers, who hunted them in return, and so Grimmel and his Death-Grippers hunted Nightstrikers.
Dreamer was caught up in it all, unable to break free. And assuming he tore Grimmel apart this very night, then what? The cycle would continue. Even were he to fly a throng of Dragonese translators down from Berk, it wouldn't do any good. Too many humans were too happy to take from anyone who had something worth taking, Berk included. Just like that fat, greedy lord…
And now they were flying off to kill more humans. That was not the real objective, but it would probably happen nonetheless. At least they had a choice.
"Water," Wanderer barked, snapping Dreamer out of his dreaming, and they angled towards the lake now visible in the distance. Three nights of getting the scent, and a week of following it, almost exactly as Grimmel had followed them.
The five of them backwinged into a landing, Leaper diving into the lake to float on his back while the rest of them nosed through the grass to search for scents. The paws of twenty or so Death-Grippers left plenty to find, even weeks or maybe months after the event, and Dreamer was soon biting back a growl as he found where they'd rested.
An exact count was difficult to get, with so little trace of so many it all blurred into each other, but it was about twenty, same as when Grimmel had first hunted them. Already he had replenished his numbers… but Dreamer wondered about that. While he knew fairly little about Death-Grippers overall, he was fairly certain the majority of them were only adolescents, their repugnant scents… small, immature. It only reaffirmed his theory.
He glanced around to confirm they all knew they were on the right track, then took a quick drink from the lake while Leaper climbed out the water before they all took flight again, labouring back up into the sky to coast on the wind. They had a pretty good idea of the direction they were going, Grimmel hadn't bothered to confuse his trail so it was fairly straight.
Those Death-Grippers had come from somewhere. They were the lynchpin of Grimmel's strength – his transportation, his trackers, his weapons, even down to the venom loaded into his little crossbow. Grimmel himself was the mind behind it all, and seemed to be no burden in an actual fight, but he was nothing without his dragons; just a marginally dangerous Long-Paw with inflated ambitions. But as long as he could retreat and get more, killing them was pointless.
It wasn't only that, either. Defence was only a slow way to die, Wanderer had hammered that lesson in over and over while they were fledglings. Lunging at a Long-Paw brandishing a spear was an easy way to get skewered. The best option was to retreat and find another target to strike at, one they could screech in out of nowhere and quickly lay waste to before anyone realised what was happening.
He wondered at what point Grimmel would figure out what they were doing, whether he had already. It had probably taken him two or three nights to realise they'd left the area around that damned forest, before picking up their trail and beginning to follow. He might have even assumed they'd gone further east, hoping to find shelter in the mountains there; that would be tempting, had they still been fleeing. Then he actually had to catch up, and they were by no means slow, even with Leaper.
Now that they had the trail and its general direction, it was a simple matter of following it and stopping at water sources to check they were still on it and hadn't overshot. The occasional Long-Paw nest sprawled across their path, light flickering through scattered windows in the darkness, but a cursory inspection as they passed over was enough to tell Dreamer their target lay elsewhere.
They themselves were also leaving a trail to be followed, but that couldn't be helped, and Dreamer wasn't too afraid anyway. Forcing Grimmel onto the defensive would be a massive advantage, as they were both well-suited for quick, targeted strikes. All they had to do was find something to strike at.
Wanderer eyed the Long-Paw nest in the distance, watching a land-prey pulling a big hollow-thing towards it. The trails around the nest were very worn, and other prey-pulled-things were trundling along in the distance, but Dreamer had not shown as much interest in those. Unlike the nearest trail, those ones did not lead to a strange cave in the mountain he was perched upon.
"Not want them near nest," Dreamer rumbled beside him, staring intently. "That make sense. Safer for them. Is good for us." Agreement, Wanderer growled; Long-Paws were slow, they wouldn't be able to respond even if they realised they were under attack.
The prey-thing came up beside the lake, the one that had suggested there was something more to find here. Death-Gripper scents were all over it, old and fresh alike, also through the fields and even on the mountain where they had stopped to rest for the light. It was clear they nested here even before they took turns watching over the Long-Paw nest, as well as their family while they slept.
All going well, this would be very simple; wait for dark, sneak inside, and kill everything they found. That felt too easy, and from the frown Dreamer wore, he felt the same. But they wouldn't know how it wasn't going to work until they got inside.
"Nearly dark enough," Dreamer hummed, looking up at the sky. The sky-sparks were just beginning to twinkle, not yet very dark but probably enough to hide them at a distance.
"Soon," Wanderer agreed, turning tail and climbing up through the rocks and trees to the sheltered ledge they had claimed. Leaper still appeared to be entertaining himself by hunting falling leaves, which happened infrequently enough he didn't seem bored yet, and Fleeting and Reaching were gnawing on bones, leftover from the prey they had hunted.
"Sire!" Leaper barked happily as he noticed, running the short towards him – halfway there, a leaf spiralled down right in front of him, and his momentary confusion as to whether or not he should pounce it sent him into a clumsy tumble onto his back. Sympathy, adoration, Wanderer purred as his stunned son rolled to his paws. "I caught lots leaves!" he then proudly announced, shaking himself off.
Pride, Wanderer crooned, wincing as paws wrapped around his neck and teeth bit into his ear. "We need fly soon," he said quietly, nudging Leaper away from his ear by affectionately nuzzling him. "Stay here with Dam. Be very quiet, maybe will be hunters near."
Understanding, Leaper quietly chuffed, ducking under Wanderer's wing and weaving around his forelegs. "Sire? Why hunters chase us?"
"I not really know," Wanderer hummed sadly, sitting on his haunches and holding his son to his chest. "They not understand us, think we will hurt them. But they hurt us first…"
"Long-Paws not know when they hurt others," Dreamer rumbled as he climbed up onto the ledge behind them. "Or maybe just not care. Not think what they might be doing wrong, only think how they can stop whatever bites them for it." He huffed, nuzzling Leaper's head protruding from between Wanderer's foreleg as he walked past. "They hunt us, that all that matters. Dark enough now, we should go."
Fleeting dropped the bone and gave her head a shake before meeting Dreamer halfway to nuzzle him, and they murmured to each other. Reaching set her own bone aside and hesitantly crossed the ledge, looking anxious but determined, though she wouldn't be in much danger herself.
"You also," Fleeting suddenly growled to Wanderer as she passed over to him. "Not do stupid things." Agreement, Wanderer chuffed as she leaned down to Leaper. "Your sire does many stupid things. Come, I will tell you how not be stupid when you meet females."
Leaper looked up at Wanderer. "You stupid," he cackled, ignoring the growl of warning to bound after his dam, where they snuggled up together into a crook in the rock wall that led further up the mountain.
"We were stupid," Dreamer hummed in amusement; Wanderer growled warning at him too.
The three of them took flight, leaving Fleeting and Leaper to wait quietly for their return. Leaving them was difficult, but necessary if they were going to stop these hunters, and they had been watching the skies for signs of pursuit; something Wanderer liked about fighting back was keeping track of the Death-Grippers, keeping them off-balance and unprepared.
True night had not yet fallen, there was still some colour to the glittering water and swaying grass below, but dark enough that a Long-Paw would not see a Nightstriker in the distance. They hurtled down the mountain, mere shadows in the twilight, and silently banked around into a gentle landing near the mouth of the cave they had been stalking.
Nobody stood guard at the entrance, so they loped across the distance, Dreamer leading and Reaching behind. Swift and silent, Dreamer approached the entrance and peered inside before slinking around the corner. Wanderer followed him in, and Reaching ducked in after them and turned to lie on her paws by the wall, staring outside to keep watch; it was crucial that they were not trapped in here, which could easily be the death of them.
The tunnel was blocked a short distance in by a wall of flat trees, but Dreamer was already nosing open the door, and Wanderer prowled in after him. They emerged into a short tunnel dimly lit by a small flame hanging on one wall, smelling even more strongly of Death-Grippers than the entrance; they were definitely in the right place. Wanderer kept his eyes and ears sharp as he ventured inside, reaching Dreamer just as he got the next door open.
Dreamer didn't immediately pass through, just peered through the small gap he'd made; the smell alone from inside was burning Wanderer's nostrils. "Two Long-Paws," Dreamer whispered, flattening his wings to his sides. "They will see us."
Acknowledgement, Wanderer huffed, digging his claws into the stone floor. The door flung open as Dreamer lunged through it, and Wanderer took in the whole room at once as he lunged in after him.
A large open space was again dimly lit by flames attached to the walls, between a pawful of cages dug into the rock, and a big firepit in the middle had mostly burned out. Dreamer was sprinting after a Long-Paw sitting at a table, so Wanderer quickly located the other across the room and crossed the distance in long, leaping bounds, jumping over tables covered in incomprehensible metal things to pounce the Long-Paw before it had time to do more than inhale in surprise.
Wanderer didn't give it time to struggle or fight back, driving it into the ground with his teeth in its shoulder and impaling it with his claws. It spasmed once, choking on its last breath, before going completely still and silent.
A Death-Gripper lunged at him, crashing into the bars of its cage and getting no further than making a lot of noise, adding to the sudden din of growling and metallic impacts. It snarled at him, shoving its tusks between the bars and extending them to their full length, still well short of reaching him. Saliva practically poured from its bound mouth, spitting out from between its teeth and slicking the bars. Wanderer snarled back at it, looking forward to gutting it almost as much as it seemed to want to get to him, though he could see no obvious way of doing so.
"Why they think we are good prey," Dreamer growled, trotting up beside him to glare at the Death-Gripper. "Not make sense. We are hunters, not good eating."
"Not is right," Wanderer agreed. "I will hold it. You get in there, kill it."
Wary, agreement, Dreamer chuffed. "Maybe will need more time this first one. Not know how easy will be."
Understanding, Wanderer huffed, eyeing the Death-Gripper and watching how it jabbed and flicked its tusks at him. He chose his moment to pounce, pinning one tusk to the ground with a paw to grab the other with his teeth, holding it up against the bars while it shrieked and roared through its teeth, straining to pull back.
He did his best to hold onto it while it struggled, getting the best angle he could while it bucked and tugged. Try as he might, he couldn't stop his teeth from slipping, and holding the other tusk to the ground was only good for keeping it from stabbing him in the process. Warning, he growled as his teeth slid a whole claw length along the tusk, and he and Dreamer leapt back as it pulled itself free.
Agitation, Dreamer growled, staring at the Death-Gripper now just crouched aggressively in its cage. "Almost. Ready with your fire." He then cautiously approached again to breathe more fire into the glowing lock, though this time they weren't attacked…
With a bit of fiddling, the door finally popped open, swinging inwards – the Death-Gripper immediately lunged, going for the opening and emerging out into the main room, and the hilariously one-sided fight that followed left it dying in a pool of its own blood.
"So eager to die," Dreamer spat, his tail lashing. With its tail and talons tightly bound in addition to its mouth, it only had its bulk and tusks to attack them with, and yet it had attacked them anyway in full confidence. Maybe they were mindless, or just that stupid; hopefully Dreamer held no qualms about killing them, though Wanderer certainly didn't. "Next should be easier-"
They both spun at a wooden crash at the back of the cave, in time to see a Death-Gripper prowl through a now open door that Wanderer growled at himself for not noticing earlier. He had fought enough of them to immediately know this was one of the biggest they'd encountered, and unlike the one they had just killed, it was entirely unrestrained, the bulb at the end of its tail parting slightly to show glimpses of the white stinger inside.
The rest of the cave had gone silent, but that was inconsequential. Wanderer and Dreamer eyed the new threat, backing up while Dreamer began circling around. It prowled forwards, seemingly unconcerned about being surrounded, its eager eyes flicking between the Nightstrikers and the dead Death-Gripper on the ground.
Sickeningly, Wanderer realised there was little difference in the way it looked at him and the way it eyed the corpse, just that one look was hunger and the other desire. As vile as that was on its own, it made him realise these four caged Death-Grippers were females, and this was the male. Everything from the silence of the females to the male's lack of concern for having lost one made Wanderer feel as if something was gnawing on his very bones; not that he felt pity for these creatures, just disgust at how unbelievably wrong and foul this all was.
The Death-Gripper lunged at Wanderer, closing the distance in long bounds. Wanderer prepared to counterattack – but hastily leapt away as it threw its shoulder into Dreamer's fireball and carried on unimpeded by the blast that felt to Wanderer like being rammed in the chest and head at once, even despite the distance.
As they had learned before, they couldn't use explosive shots within this hard cave. The Death-Gripper, however, had no qualms chasing Wanderer with a stream of its own fire, melting and burning tables and the metal things on them mere moments after he leapt over them. Dreamer tackled it, staggering it and trying to find a good grip on its tough hide, but was heaved off and hit the ground with a yelp, then scrambled away from the talons that might have taken his tail off had Wanderer not jumped onto it himself.
Recognising where that would lead, he leapt off and snarled as searing pain burned down his hindleg in the process, landing with a limp that was definitely noticed. It was not a severe wound, but it would slow him a little. He glanced at Dreamer, conveying his concern, and received no reassurance. This was not a fight they were going to win easily.
Unless… Wanderer glanced significantly at the dying fire, and one of the small fires on the wall. Understanding, Dreamer huffed, though he twitched his head at the Death-Gripper and glanced questionably back at him.
Determined, Wanderer huffed, pacing around the Death-Gripper. It was staying close to the wall of cages, so he couldn't get completely behind it, but it put Dreamer out of its sight while it followed him-
It lunged, but Wanderer just skipped back away from it, staying well out of reach. Challenge, it roared at him, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. Derision, Wanderer snorted back, deftly hopping back from another lunge and leading it around the room, which was becoming progressively darker as Dreamer worked, reaching up to put a paw over each of the little bowls attached to the walls and stifle their fire; Wanderer had to trust he had a good reason for not just knocking them down, as it seemed slow.
The Death-Gripper followed to the centre of the room, Wanderer backing up right over the firepit with the charred wood crunching under his paws. As it passed over the dying fire after him, it blinked, shaking its head. Wanderer's face split with a feral grin as he backed into the darkness, the Death-Gripper losing track of him and looking around, nostrils flaring as it scented the air.
Even to Wanderer, the cave was now very dark, only the dim embers of the coals and a soft glow from the open door to provide light. He knew it could see well enough in the dark, it probably had some visibility around the remains of the fire, but not much, and if it did try to use its fire, he was ready to send his own shot down its throat; but as he'd already noticed, it was careful with its fire. Dreamer, merely a dark blur a pawful of body-lengths away, nudged a bit of wood. It spun to face him, but didn't take the bait.
Wanderer backed into a corner, tested the wall with a hindpaw, then prepared himself with a deep breath. Without warning, he shot a blast at the fire under the Death-Gripper, just enough to scatter it. As he'd expected, the Death-Gripper lunged towards him, bulling through a table it barely even noticed, and Wanderer leapt up the wall behind him, digging in his claws and straining his legs to stand in the corner, near the roof.
The Death-Gripper, unable to stop even if it knew to, crashed into the wall with a shriek of pain. Dreamer was instantly grappling its tail, and Wanderer dropped onto its spiked back, doing his best to avoid the sharp tips while it bucked to push at the front spike and shoot a stream of fire into the exposed neck between the plates. It shrieked, writhing in an attempt to escape its imminent death, before finally going limp.
Panting, Wanderer stepped off the corpse, and Dreamer fired a tiny shot to light one of the bowls on the wall again; some of the contents dripped out, where they then flickered merrily on the ground, explaining why it had been necessary to smother them instead. It provided enough light to properly see the Death-Gripper, and its many scars.
"Hurt, or too old for hunt, maybe," Dreamer rumbled, eyeing over the corpse, his eyes lingering on a wide scar on its leg that looked to have been caused by a Nightstriker's teeth. Wanderer pawed open its limp wing, revealing the holes that had been ripped through it. "Hurt," Dreamer agreed, then groaned. "We not can just ground them. He can still use them. Maybe take Death-Gripper from here…"
"Not after we kill all these," Wanderer growled, testing his injured hindleg on the ground; sore, but not badly hurt.
Weary, Dreamer huffed. "Four females. Not think that give him enough eggs. If I him, I would have more places like this. Four, maybe five. If attacked, or Death-Grippers escape, not will lose all." He groaned and pawed at his head. "I should think that already…"
Wanderer panted for a pawful more life-beats to catch his breath, then collected himself with a deep breath and bumped heads with Dreamer. "We will hunt all his nests. Kill them all. All we can do." Agreement, Dreamer chuffed.
Query, came a tense bark from Reaching outside, and Wanderer barked back confidence. But they weren't done yet. He trotted towards the door at the back, where the male had come from – but paused at noticing a Long-Paw on the ground, and that it was still breathing. He shot Dreamer a disapproving glance, which Dreamer mirrored right back at him.
But this wasn't the time to growl at each other. Leaving the other females for the moment, they did what they should have done in the first place and prowled through the door at the back of the cave, emerging into another tunnel with a closed door at the end. When Dreamer fumbled and pushed at it, however, it didn't budge. "Hrrr, I thinking," Dreamer hummed-
Wanderer fired at the door, weathering the ache in his head and grunting in satisfaction as the wood disappeared in a cloud of dust and smoke. "That is better idea," Dreamer groaned, pawing at his head, before they prowled into the pitch-black cave beyond.
Dreamer held his fire in his throat, the screeching echoing off piles of debris that seemed to have been blocking the door and a big room of tree trunks and rocks and what looked like nets and ropes strung up among it all. "Exercise," Dreamer grunted, and Wanderer saw the merit in it; under other circumstances, he wouldn't mind a big tangle of things like this to climb over. As it was, the cave stank of Death-Grippers, both their usual stink and an old, acrid stench of mating that he could smell from the entrance. No, this wasn't a good place.
The sound-sight revealed the single empty cage at the back, and the Long-Paw huddled among the rocks. Killing it would be satisfying, but a waste of time, so Wanderer followed when Dreamer ceased his sound-sight and turned to head back into the tunnel.
Three more easy kills, and they were done here. Not as entirely done as they had naively hoped, and they still had to do something about the ones actually hunting them, but this was a serious wound dealt. And keeping their enemy on the defensive, they could pace themselves, keep from burning through all their reserves. Despite the fighting, this felt much better than fleeing or hiding.
Dreamer landed on the little outcrop of rock and began climbing up to where they'd left Fleeting and Leaper, gripped with worry that he would find them missing or worse as with every time he left them. It was irrational, Fleeting would have alerted Reaching who would have alerted him and Wanderer, but he couldn't help whining relief as he climbed the final rock-face and emerged onto the ledge to find his mate and son prancing around and apparently having a great time.
"Sire!" Leaper squeaked gleefully, abandoning his dam to sprint over and leap at Dreamer, wrapping paws and teeth around his neck. Dreamer lay down with an overwhelmingly loving purr, rolling onto his side to hold his son tightly and lick over his head and neck, despite the growled protests. He hated the fighting and killing, but the writhing Nightstriker in his grasp was proof it was worth it, motivation to carry on.
Wanderer climbed onto the ledge behind Reaching, and Fleeting immediately accosted him and scented him over with a low growl. They exchanged a few words Dreamer didn't really pay attention to, and then she grappled him and dragged him to the ground to straddle his torso and carefully lick his injured hindleg.
When he was eventually allowed out of her clutches, Dreamer released Leaper to greet his mate with more loving purrs. Leaper shook himself off and leapt at Wanderer, and after a warm, heartfelt reunion, he even gleefully bounded over to tackle Reaching as well, grappling and biting her with happy squeaks. "Is good he has us all," Dreamer hummed warmly, so very proud of the environment they had given their son to grow in; current circumstances aside.
"Nightstriker families are very warm," Wanderer hummed in agreement, sitting on his haunches on Fleeting's other side.
Frustration, Fleeting growled. "I am going with you next hunt. We still need kill those hunting us. Waiting was," frustrated, worried, she snarled.
"More nests we need find, kill, yes," Dreamer said with a sigh. "But who would be with Leaper? We needed fight very big Death-Gripper, needed both us to kill it."
"Reaching went with you," she complained petulantly, firmly nipping his shoulder and face.
"Yes," Reaching agreed dryly, "I needed sit there while they snarled, shrieked, made many fighting-sounds. But not could go help, needed watch for if something try trap them." Rather than respond, Fleeting bit Dreamer's neck, and then Wanderer yelped as she bit him too.
She was right to be worried. And from the looks Wanderer had been giving him, he disapproved of not killing that first Long-Paw. Dreamer could see his point, these people were aiding the man hunting them, helping make him as dangerous as he was. But they hadn't chosen to fight. Should that make a difference? Dreamer didn't know. But two Long-Paws still lived. He wouldn't go out of his way to spare them, but hopefully they would think twice before jumping back into their chosen profession. He would fight for his family, but was just so very tired of fighting seemingly the whole world.
"You can watch for danger?" he mumbled to Fleeting, lowering himself to lie on his paws and letting his eyes drift shut. He barely even heard the acknowledging chuff as he drifted off.
Author's Notes
I need to give a huge shoutout to my beta VigoGrimborne for these last few weeks, while I've been delivering chapters to him mere hours before posting. Go check out his stuff, if you haven't already, he's a phenomenal writer himself.