Author's Notes
Three weeks? What? No, no, you must be mistaken. On an unrelated note, I'm going to need to drop updates to once every three weeks instead of two. On top of life being even more of a pain than usual, I really need to get my beta ahead a few chapters now we're nearing the end.
Also, chapter 100! Not many more now…
EDIT: I am putting the story on hold for a bit, to more or less finish it before I resume posting. Trust me, you'll be thankful to have shorter gaps between everything from here, and I'll endeavour to get through it quickly; I have been dreaming these scenes since I started writing three years ago, and I'm eager to finally get them down. Make sure you're following to get updates, and I'll hopefully be back in just a few weeks.
Dreamer roused to a deliberate nudge against his shoulder, instantly dragging him from a deep and comforting sleep. His first thought was that the others were still asleep, except for Fleeting keeping watch, so there didn't seem to be any imminent danger. His second thought was a small grudge against life for conditioning him to wake so quickly and fully from even such deep sleep.
"Hunters are here," Fleeting hissed quietly, a statement that instantly got him to his paws and swiftly trotting to the edge of the rocky outcrop they had temporarily claimed. After dropping down the few body-lengths to the tiny little ledge with a better view through the trees, he blinked at the harsh mid-morning light and picked out the flock in the distance. "I should wake Wanderer?" she asked from above him, clinging to the rockface.
"No," he huffed. "I will watch. You can sleep if want." Disagreement, she snorted, dropping down and huddling to his side, and he absently put a wing around her while he willed his eyes to properly focus.
Thankfully, the lingering blur from sleep had lifted by the time Grimmel and his score of Death-Grippers descended into a landing between the lake and the mountain, carrying the big frame he'd had last hot-season. The Death-Grippers at the end of each long arm guided it gently to the ground, then perched on them menacingly while Grimmel himself stepped out of the contraption, flanked by two Death-Grippers landing either side of him.
Dreamer felt Fleeting tense beside him even as he tensed himself, craning over the ledge to see down the mountain. There was their enemy, in plain sight, totally unaware of their presence. A single shot was all it would take to end him, and he was well within range. One shot, and this could all be over… No more hiding, no more fleeing, maybe just hunting down the remaining Death-Gripper nests… Or, the Death-Grippers warily prowling along beside him could leap in front of the shot. Grimmel himself could potentially get out of the way in the two heartbeats it would take the shot to travel. He might currently suspect where they were, but then he would know where they were.
Patience, Dreamer hummed, leaning his head against Fleeting's. He felt her teeth bare, and she growled frustration before shuffling her wings on her back and settling back down. He understood her perfectly. It was so very tempting to try, such a tantalising opportunity. But even with the height advantage, the rising sky-fire was too much of a disadvantage to risk. They could be patient, follow him and strike at night, if the opportunity arose.
Grimmel was arguing with a dozen Long-Paws who had come out to meet him, their unease painfully obvious despite the great distance Dreamer and Fleeting were watching from. Even aside from the shock of pale hair, Grimmel was easily recognisable by his slow, arrogant, often exaggerated movements, strutting around like he owned the place; he probably did own the place, but still. Without warning, he raised an arm towards one of the men, who staggered back and fell over. Grimmel then dismissed them with an indifferent wave of his hand, turning back to his Death-Grippers.
He did not talk in Dragonese, simply striding back to his flying frame, but by some unseen command a pair of Death-Grippers leapt into the air and flew towards the cave. A moment later, two more flew off towards the lake, and the rest of them took off when he stepped into the odd frame, the horde of them lifting into the air and rising into the sky. Where would he be going now…?
"I need see," Dreamer hissed urgently, lifting his wing from Fleeting and dropping down to an even lower ledge to race around the mountain, claws awkwardly but surely gripping tough rock and, when he couldn't help it, scraggly trees. The slope was not as densely forested as where they had spent the last few seasons, but he trusted his scales to hide him in the scattered, shifting shadows as he swiftly and quietly raced through them.
The flying frame and flock of dragons disappeared behind a ridge, and Dreamer forewent a little bit of caution to catch up. When he crested the short rise and threw himself at a tree to climb it for a better view, he had good visibility of them again… as well as the direction they were heading. Grimmel had left Death-Grippers behind, he'd be back, while Dreamer hadn't had a chance to search for the trail again, so he wouldn't find anything…
A scuff from below startled him as Fleeting leapt up a neighbouring tree to peer out over the distance. Warning, caution, he hissed at her – she probably should have stayed with the others – but she just growled back at him while peering through the trees. Grrr, nothing he could do about that now. "Where they going?" she asked, staring intently at the departing danger.
"We found this nest," Dreamer growled. "He checking if we flew to his next nest." He chuffed as she growled eagerly, repositioning her claws to stand a little higher off the trunk of the tree. He agreed wholeheartedly; now they knew where to fly.
The sky-fire was just beginning to rise from the horizon, casting its warm light across the land and bringing with it a blue sky with scattered clouds in the distance. Fighting back a yawn, Dreamer cast his gaze around for somewhere to set down for a drink, or at least somewhere to settle down, but with scattered Long-Paw nests, there didn't seem to be anywhere suitable.
That wasn't much of a problem yet – they needed to keep moving, even despite the dawn. The hot-season nights were short, and they needed to stay ahead of Grimmel who would surely be on their trail by now, after nights of flying, so they had little choice but to keep going as long as they could. It was tiring, but temporary and with an end in sight, so they could manage as long as they could take some time to recuperate soon. Dreamer wasn't quite sure how that was going to work yet, but he'd figure something out…
A faint, distant roar pricked his ears, the five of them all turning heads towards the source. Not a Nightstriker roar, that much was immediately obvious, but he hadn't before heard a Death-Gripper roar such happiness, freedom, and even that aside it sounded somehow off. He glanced at the others before they wordlessly angled towards it, working their wings to climb higher in case of danger.
Of course, with height came distance, and it took Dreamer a few minutes to spot the flash of movement over the mostly flat ground below. A single Death-Gripper, by the shape, flying low, seemingly just for the fun of it by the way it swerved and weaved. As they watched, it flew towards a Long-Paw nest, only to swerve away and fly off on a tangent.
Was it a trap? Bait, a tempting target to lure them in? But they were ahead of Grimmel, Dreamer was sure of it, he couldn't possibly have got a message ahead of them. Wary, he rumbled, scanning their surroundings for any other signs of movement…
But what did it have to gain by flying around like this? Dreamer glanced at Wanderer as he folded his wings to swoop down towards the lone dragon. By all appearances it was just out to enjoy itself, flying as most dragons loved to, crossing far too much distance for anyone to predict where it might be ambushed. He could see no way this could be a trap, and no way for anyone here to know to set one up. Grimmel's Death-Grippers, even the ones he used for breeding, needed exercise and to learn to fly. This was nothing but sheer opportunity.
He dove down behind it, Wanderer's wingbeats on his tail lending him confidence. With his dive came speed, enough to rush up to it and sink his teeth into the back of its wing before it had any idea what was going on; it seemed to be carrying something, but he didn't slow to look. He wrenched, seeing a blur of black do the same to its other wing, and with a horrible snap and tear, a scrap of membrane came away in his teeth which he immediately spat out.
A heartbeat passed before it shrieked alarm, agony, the sound seeming somehow muted even in addition to the distance he had already put to it. He flared his wings and banked around to follow to where it hit the ground, seeing Wanderer-
Surprise, he barked, wings stuttering and slowing him for a moment. Not Wanderer, but Fleeting, her wings flared to slow and regain control of her flight; Wanderer must be still up in the sky with the others. Dreamer huffed and swooped at her as she turned, aggravated by the surprise, then focused on the task at paw; this was no time to be growling at his mate.
The Death-Gripper still seemed a bit stunned by the crash when they warily descended to a landing nearby. Dreamer glanced at Fleeting – she at least appeared to be exercising caution as she approached – and prowled around the grounded dragon for a better look at what he'd glimpsed earlier. For some reason, it seemed to be wrapped in a lot of chains with blocks of metal hanging from them, in addition to having its mouth bound as with the females they'd killed a few nights ago, though he was a bit preoccupied to wonder why.
It pawed at its head, futilely trying to pull off the tight binding around its muzzle, before noticing it was surrounded. And like the others, it too started drooling the moment it saw them, folding its bleeding wings and pointing that dangerous tail at them while it backed up.
Dreamer didn't bother trying to talk to it. Dragons only spoke to those they trusted, and it seemed unlikely these Death-Grippers even knew how, bred in captivity as they were. Either way, this seemed like one type of dragon the world might be better off without, given how dangerous and predisposed to torture they seemed to be, literally eating their prey alive; from what he had heard, there probably weren't any wild ones left.
Eager, wary, it growled, head twitching in discomfort and frustration – Fleeting lunged at it, and Dreamer leapt without even thinking to grab its tail before it could stab her. He wrestled with it, struggling to get a good grip while it bucked and jerked, then twisted and wrenched it with a crack when his teeth finally found purchase. Its wicked back-plates, each tapering to a sharp tip, made it difficult for him to do much more from there, but he couldn't even spare a moment to glance at the snarling mess at the front of the dragon to know how well his mate was doing against it, could only climb over its hindquarters and sink his teeth into its leg to wrestle it to the ground.
Warning, Fleeting growled over the clinking of the metal things around the Death-Gripper, and Dreamer hastily twisted and kicked away. It whirled around as he did so, slashing talons glancing off his hindleg and tail at an oblique angle, and he dug his foreclaws into the ground to spin as he landed and lunged before it could recover itself. Now without the use of its tail, it was unable to stop him getting above it and holding its head down to flame through the back of its neck.
Its screeching and flailing lasted only a couple of heartbeats before it slumped and went still. Dreamer stepped off and snorted a puff of smoke to ward off the acrid stench of burnt carapace and meat, though it wasn't entirely effective, and shot a sideways glare at Fleeting. She was very pointedly not whining, though she looked as if she probably wanted to. Not seriously hurt, thankfully, but licking a plethora of cuts and a few gashes seemingly all over her body, more than the few scrapes he himself had accumulated. "What you do that for," he rumbled; he and Wanderer could have killed it easily.
"I wanted to," she growled back sharply, then leapt into the sky. Dreamer snorted to himself, spared the corpse one last long glance, and took off after her. He couldn't be too annoyed, he supposed, it had all turned out well enough and she now had a bit more experience fighting these things; he just would have appreciated some forewarning.
After a glance around to locate the others and confirm there was no further danger joining them in the air, Dreamer lost himself to his thoughts. There must be another breeding nest around here somewhere, in or near one of the four nearby Long-Paw nests; he could get a better idea of which with some scouting. An escapee, perhaps? Though that seemed unlikely to coincide with their arrival. Hrrr, a lame, flightless dragon was no use to Grimmel… They occasionally needed to be let out, let free to fly and build strength – which might help explain the odd metal lumps attached to the chains tangled among the spiky plates of the one they'd just fought, conditioning the dragons to extra weight.
It had another effect too, preventing the dragon from properly hunting, in addition to its bound mouth. It had to return to its nest for food and maybe water, and if it didn't, it would be much easier to hunt down and catch. Yes, this was all making sense… He wondered what would happen now, if someone would go looking for it. They should probably land and observe until night before deciding what to do.
Wanderer lunged at Fleeting as they reached the others, much as Dreamer himself had. She ducked away, and they darted and swerved around a few moments before he relented and fell back into formation; he hadn't actually made contact, as far as Dreamer had seen, but from Fleeting's pained grimace, he hadn't needed to.
Ideally they'd practice fighting with her more, and probably Reaching as well, even Leaper to some degree. But that required energy, which they didn't have a huge abundance of right now, especially not while they were already pushing themselves. He wasn't opposed to her helping out in some of the less dangerous fights… if they could identify which fights were likely to resemble 'safe' in any way; he probably couldn't have killed that grounded male with Fleeting instead of Wanderer. Maybe once they had cleared a couple more nests and knew what to expect…
She levelly met his gaze with a hint of challenge, but he looked away, not knowing what to say. The wounds she had received would hopefully speak for themselves, a constant reminder over the next few nights. He sighed to himself, looking around for somewhere to land and rest; wearing themselves out in this fight would be as easy to do as it would be disastrous.
Wanderer purred quietly as he gazed at the bright sky through lidded eyes, wishing he could just doze off. The sleep he'd had was adequate, but it had been important to race here, to stay ahead of the ones following them. He wasn't yet at the point of exhaustion, but was feeling the strain.
A strain that was being soothed by the heavy weight across his back almost as much as by the firm tongue working its way around his shoulders. Reaching seemed intent on seeing this fight to the end, had followed eagerly when Dreamer had suggested killing Death-Grippers. She probably wouldn't be fighting much herself – ideally, not at all, given the likely implications that would have – but not only was she doing wonders for his aching muscles, it was ensuring he wasn't inadvertently drifting off, helping keep him alert; she was periodically dozing off on him, so he had to stay awake.
Were this any other Long-Paw or any other wing-hunters, he would have considered it overly cautious to watch the sky this first light after they had arrived. As it was, he was only a little surprised when the flock appeared in the distance, not even a single light behind them. He rose to his haunches, Reaching shuffling to curl around his flanks with a quiet snore, and watched the approaching flock with bated breath.
The land here was rather flat, but they had found a spot where the edge of a forest rose over a short hill. It worried Wanderer, because to him it seems an obvious place to watch the area, a good view coupled with trees to hide in and water not too far away… but as the Death-Grippers approached, he noticed that they seemed a little slow and sluggish in their wingbeats, clearly feeling the long flight themselves. Wanderer smirked. They had to fly together, lest he and Dreamer hunt them again, which impeded and slowed their own hunt, but if they fell behind then all of their nests would die.
Being on the offensive again felt good.
He decided not to wake Dreamer yet, wanting to just see what the flock would do. Still carrying its big metal thing, it descended to land near one of the Long-Paw nests, and the hunter alpha walked out and was lost to the crowds for a little while. When it reappeared, a pawful of Death-Grippers flew off as it approached them, heading towards a nearby lake. One of the lakes, the nearest, had scents for the Death-Grippers to find. There wasn't any point in hiding it with the one they had killed – let their enemy know and fear them – and they'd needed to scent for Death-Grippers. A second group took off shortly after the first… though it seemed to be having trouble with the rest, seeming agitated with them.
Wanderer watched the distant scene curiously, not able to make much out over the distance but quickly determining the alpha was dealing with a challenge to its position. There was a lot of posturing, probably barking and roaring – a Death-Gripper lunged at it and quickly found itself with its chin on the ground. That alpha was nimble and tricky, Wanderer had to give it that… but in a real fight, it had no claws or teeth to end its opponent.
With the challenge concluded, the alpha still standing on the head of the challenger, two more pawfuls of Death-Grippers were sent out, four in total. That left the hunter alpha with a pawful to itself. Hrrr… In the right conditions, Wanderer would be confident taking on three weary Death-Grippers with Dreamer; surprise one of them for a quick kill, leaving one each to deal with. Four at once felt like too much of a risk. He would if he had to, and would probably succeed, but the chance wasn't worth their lives, and either way it would make them easy prey themselves.
His view of the hunters deteriorated as night began to fall, the blurry little figures in the distance further smudging with shadows and darkness. There didn't seem to be more of interest to know anyway. The alpha would hide somewhere for the night, Wanderer had already lost sight of him, but it was still too light to fly without being seen.
"Hunters?" came a wary warble from behind, and Wanderer chuffed acknowledgement. Dreamer huffed as he walked up beside him, carefully stepping over Reaching's splayed tail and hindlegs. "She looks tired."
"She is doing much," Wanderer hummed. "Helping Fleeting with Leaper. Hunting food. Helping us hunt these hunters." Agreement, Dreamer chuffed with a small sigh. "Hunters in that nest," Wanderer then growled with a flick of his snout at the nest in the distance. "Flew to pawful of lakes to search for scents. Not know which we should follow for next nest, or where this nest is."
Dreamer hummed thoughtfully, staring into the distance. "Four lakes. We can check those, will find their scent at one. Still know where to fly." Wanderer blinked, taking a few moments to figure out the logic, but yes, that made sense; four lakes was easier to check than everything within two days' flight. "They do more?"
"They very tired," Wanderer chuffed, "flew fast to follow us. Also alpha was challenged, fought Death-Gripper."
"We killed many last hot-season. These are young, still learning. That make sense." Dreamer stretched and yawned widely, and Reaching stirred as he brushed against her.
"I can have my tail now?" Wanderer asked her. She grumbled as she shuffled back, and he pulled his tail out from under her to stand and stretch himself with a contented groan. "I not know how we can kill this nest," he admitted to Dreamer. By his flat stare, Dreamer did not know either. "Maybe… we should destroy all. Hunter alpha in that Long-Paw nest somewhere. We have much fire." Enough to raze the majority of it to the ground, and kill most of the occupants. With the coming night, it was worth the chance.
"Sire!" came an enthusiastic bark behind them, "I found big stick!" Wanderer turned to see Leaper dragging a long and sturdy stick that he appeared to have pried from a tree, and Fleeting watching drowsily from her back. Leaper cheerfully trotted over, dropped the other end of the stick between them, against Dreamer's flank, and braced himself, eager gaze flicking between them.
"Soon," Wanderer hummed. "Sire is talking."
Sad, disappointed, Leaper crooned, dropping the stick and pawing sullenly at it. "You say that last night… Never play with me…"
"We play with you," Dreamer growled sharply. "But we need fight to keep you safe, keep all us safe. Go play with Dam. We will play soon, but only if you not nag." Leaper snorted disbelief as he trotted away, leaving the stick behind.
Wanderer stared out over the land in silence as night slowly claimed it. "I hate this," Dreamer growled, aptly summing up Wanderer's own feelings on the matter. "Last nest we fought was in cave. Strong, not could break way in or out. I not even know where this Death-Gripper nest. We could destroy Long-Paw nest, but I not think we could kill him like that."
Something in his voice suggested he wasn't completely opposed to the idea. Wanderer had thought he'd need to fight to get him to consider it, but that answer seemed fairly reasonable and thought-through. "Still maybe will kill him," he countered. "We not know where Death-Gripper nest is anyway."
Thoughtful, agreement, Dreamer growled, staring intently at the nest in the distance… then looked around, towards the lakes. "No, I have better idea. We not need kill this nest. We should fly to next nest, kill that." He eagerly bared his teeth. "Yes. Not need fight hunter alpha then. He will stay here, think we trying to trick him, chase his tail while we kill other nests."
"But we will kill this nest?" Reaching growled, climbing to her paws and walking around to sit on Dreamer's other side.
"Maybe," Dreamer chuffed. "Maybe not will need to. He not can hunt with only one nest. Maybe we will kill him, then this nest will die. Think about that later." He looked up at the darkening sky while Reaching growled to herself, then glanced back to the others. "We should fly now…"
Wanderer looked back in time to see Leaper narrow his eyes and flatten his ears at them before leaping into the air, beating his wings to climb ahead of them, and Fleeting glanced their way before following him up. Dreamer sighed frustration. "When say 'soon', that still mean when we land…"
"He not think that," Wanderer said with a huff as he spread his wings.
Dreamer froze at seeing the flash of movement above the trees, then leapt up a nearby trunk and held a branch aside to see more clearly. As he had suspected, and what he had been keeping an eye out for as he searched for prey, a lone Death-Gripper flew straight and level, coming in fast, possibly returning from somewhere.
He made a snap decision and lunged up into the air, heedless of the remaining light from the setting sky-fire. They were again ahead of Grimmel, there was no reason for the Long-Paws in this area to suspect anything, so this was nothing but an opportunity to further hurt the ones hunting them.
The Death-Gripper did not immediately notice him, nor Wanderer erupting from the trees nearby. When it did, rather than immediately try to attack them as the others had, it veered away, dropping altitude to gain speed. It dodged Dreamer's fireball with relative ease, but Wanderer's shot clipped its tail and sent it into a brief spin that slowed it more than enough for two Nightstrikers to catch up to.
It shrieked as they tore through its wings, far inferior air combatant as it was, and found nothing but air with its slashing talons as they darted away. Dreamer watched it plummet, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings, before diving after it, pulling his wings in tightly to let the air slip past him. As it crashed into the hard ground, he released a large shot and pulled out of the dive, smirking at seeing a direct hit result in an intense eruption of smoke and dust. He banked around as Wanderer leapt into the cloud with his fire screeching in his throat, and Dreamer 'saw' the echoes of him tackling it and putting it out of its misery; all that, and it still hadn't died.
Whether any of the Long-Paw nests nearby had noticed anything was unknown, as they were a fair distance away, but Dreamer wasn't too concerned. He was more interested in where it had been going, and why. He flared his wings into a landing at the edge of the crater, sending the remnants of the dust cloud billowing around. His shot had made an interesting sort of moat around the corpse, blasting away the dirt around it but not directly under it. Incredibly, he couldn't see any obvious damage to its back, where he'd hit it; perhaps something about the shape of it was good at deflecting the explosion.
Wanderer rolled the corpse onto its side, then pawed at its flank. "What this? Not seen it before."
With another wary glance around, Dreamer padded over and stared curiously at the cylinder strapped to the Death-Gripper's hindleg. Thoughtful, he hummed as he hooked a claw under the leather band to break it, then took it in his claws and hopped away from the morbid scene to get a better look. Some sort of canister, of which the lid easily popped off, containing a rolled piece of paper. It took him some time to coax the contents out of the tube, but eventually he had the message laid out on the grass.
Thankfully, it was written in simple Norse. Prepare for Night Fury attack. That seemed to be the full contents, as the other side was blank. "This Death-Gripper was hunter alpha's," Dreamer growled, then fired an empty shot at the paper to instantly set it alight. "Good. One we not need to fight later." This war would be won in little opportunities like this, clawing at every exposed paw and wing until they could leap in for the kill.
Then there was the matter of where the Death-Gripper had been taking this message. He leapt into the air and took a moment to remind himself of the direction it had been flying before he'd intercepted it, his eyes following the trail across the land; he had a suspicion the next nest was in this area, but hadn't yet had a chance to hunt for it. Almost directly towards a nearby Long-Paw nest, which couldn't be a coincidence… None of the heavily-worn paths seemed to go to any nearby cave or anything, just to some nearby farms or stretching off into the distance. But there was a wide, heavy-set stone building right on the outskirts, its roof much lower compared to the surrounding buildings. It seemed a bit at odds with the rest of the nest, now that he was looking at it.
"There," he huffed to Wanderer, who was gliding up next to him. "Low den near that nest."
Anticipation, Wanderer growled, narrowing his eyes. "We need hunt first. But we not find prey yet…" He snorted contempt, firmly flapping his wings. "Nest will have food. Then can eat after we kill Death-Gripper nest."
Taking from Long-Paws again… It wouldn't hurt Grimmel in any way, only random people who happened to be nearby; most likely the farmers, who just grew food for a living. But on the other paw, they had to stay ahead of Grimmel, who could and probably had been stopping at Long-Paw nests to feed his dragons without needing long and tiring hunts. Dreamer didn't like the idea, already feeling sorry for the victims, but voiced no disagreement.
Instead, he banked around and gave a low bark, angling for the reply and dropping through the trees to find Fleeping, Leaper, and Reaching watching him worriedly. "We killed another Death-Gripper," he explained. "Was flying to next nest. Think we know where it is. How is your hunting…?"
Disappointment, Fleeting grunted, turning to sniff some shrubs as Wanderer clambered down a nearby tree. "Not much prey here. Scents are old."
"Death-Grippers maybe hunt here much," Wanderer rumbled. "Found more scents. Long-Paws hunt here also. Wrrr, not worry. We will take from their nest."
"I can help?"
Dreamer startled, looking to Leaper with a scathing retort on his tongue, but hesitated. His son looked up at him with a hopeful, pleading expression, eyes wide and dilated, ears and frills tentatively lifting. The look was familiar, one of a boy craving his father's attention and respect, doing everything he could just to get noticed…
There was no opinion evident in Fleeting's level gaze, and Wanderer seemed to be just as conflicted. This hunt was dangerous… but so was life, and he did need to learn independence… "You can… take prey with Dam while we hunt," Dreamer said reluctantly. "Not hunt prey," he clarified as Leaper tilted his head in uncertainty, "we not find any near. Hunters chasing us are taking food from Long-Paw nests. We need do that also."
"I can go to Long-Paw nest?" Leaper asked hopefully, head lifting and tail eagerly sweeping the ground behind him.
"Not sound so happy about that," Wanderer growled. "Long-Paws are very dangerous. You will need find prey, take enough for all us." He sighed, stepping forwards to nuzzle their son. "Then, maybe if we have good hunt, we can play."
"Not worry," Fleeting chuffed, leaping over and roughing with Leaper's flanks, "we will do something fun after."
"I like fun things!" Leaper exclaimed as he twisted away from Wanderer to pounce his dam.
Dreamer's heart felt a little heavier. This was only temporary, just while they dealt with this threat hounding them… but then again, so was Leaper's upbringing. Perhaps it would be better if they tried to postpone another year, see their son off onto his own path before fully committing to this fight. Grimmel would work to undo their progress in the meantime, but it would be much easier without a fledgling to care for.
"We should go," he said, glancing up at the darkening sky; night would nearly claim the land by the time they reached the nest, and if the prey were being hidden in barns they might catch them being herded in without needing to search. "This not is just easy hunt," he told Leaper with a low growl. "We are taking their prey. They maybe will be hungry. Maybe will make them attack us. We only doing this because we need stay ahead of bad hunters."
"I know, Sire," Leaper rumbled disinterestedly as he trotted around to stand by Fleeting, ready to fly, and Dreamer took a deep breath. They still had about a year to teach him properly, and this was only temporary…
He growled under his breath to himself as they took flight into the darkening sky, focusing on the fight to come.
Death, so much death. Dreamer held the fourth Death-Gripper on its side while it faded, choking on its ruined throat but still trying to claw at him, single-minded in trying to kill and probably eat him. He knew they were capable of coordination and following complex instructions, which put them on as high a level of thought as most other dragons, but it almost seemed overridden by the sheer aggression that consumed them when confronted.
It went limp and still, and he took a deep breath. Just one more, and they were done. The male lay dead in another room, and there were only four females here, one less than the first nest. Two Long-Paws slumped against the far wall, unconscious, as he had been able to get to them first. That at least was some small comfort, sparing their lives.
Wanderer would have killed them. From a callous perspective, it was the more logical choice. Replacements would need to be found and trained, if they wanted to keep breeding Death-Grippers here. Evisceration was quicker and easier than applying the precise amount of force to shock their fragile bodies into unconsciousness. It was safer when there was no chance of them waking up again. But there was already so much death. How could he claim to be anything but the monster they thought him to be, if he did exactly what they expected? Humans were not lesser, not really, they still lived and loved and had families who would miss them.
The Death-Grippers were another matter. He approached the last cage, eyeing it as it drooled over the bars and glared hatefully at him. A few heavy swats at the protruding tusks had it back up, allowing him to more safely approach the lock and begin burning it out; if the key was around, he didn't know where, and it would be very difficult to use with his clumsy paws.
Like every other, the lock fell to his fire, and he darted back as the door swung inwards. The Death-Gripper inside lunged for the opening, immediately throwing itself at him despite its weapons being heavily bound by thick leather and iron, never even sparing a moment to so much as glance at the open gates leading outside to freedom. They gave it the opportunity, because it was easier to kill it this way. Wanderer tackled it from the side, teeth sinking into its foreleg as he dragged it to the ground. Dreamer was right there with him, grappling its tusks to help wrestle it onto its side – his crushing jaw found its way around its throat, and the Death-Gripper made a horrible strangled sound as he bit down.
They leapt clear of its dying throes, panting and watching warily, until it went still. Dreamer didn't know what he would do to one if it decided to flee instead of attack, but giving them the choice was all that was keeping him going. Thankfully, they hadn't yet forced him into that sickening decision.
Weary, haste, he barked, and Wanderer huffed acknowledgement as they trotted for the exit. The air this close to a Long-Paw nest was smelly, but still wonderfully refreshing as they emerged, immediately taking flight after Reaching who leapt up ahead of them. They flew silently, weariness setting in now that the hunt was over, a dozen cuts and scratches making themselves known with the motions of their wingbeats.
The first stop was a nearby lake, where they washed out their mouths and slaked their thirst while Reaching kept watch, then took wing again towards where they had agreed to rest, just within a treeline on a low hill. Curiously, four prey carcasses were the only greeting they received, two of them half-eaten already, though there were only Nightstriker scents in the area. Whatever Fleeting and Leaper were doing, he hoped they were having fun… and staying safe. He was too hungry to wonder too much though, and quickly set about devouring one of the sheep, offering a grateful purr to Reaching as she licked at his wounds.
When Fleeting and Leaper returned, he was feeling a bit better, more lethargic than anything; Reaching spotted them first, alerting him with a quiet bark, while Wanderer dozed amidst the roots of a tree. Dreamer lifted his head as his mate and son climbed down the trees, purring warmly at the brief nuzzle Leaper gave him-
His eyes narrowed at the scents that hit him. Not only of the Long-Paw nest, the pungent heart of the nest itself that was far from the farms they were supposed to be raiding, but also blood on his claws and teeth. Enquiry, worried, he warbled, unsure who he should be growling at.
"Long-Paws are weird," Leaper rumbled, sitting on his haunches. "I not understand them. Also they smell bad! I want smoke my nose like Dam." He gagged and pawed at his snout. "Then we hunted bad Long-Paw! It growled much, also hurt other Long-Paws. Was easy hunt, but not easy hiding from its nest."
Dreamer shot a sharp look over at Fleeting, but she had her back to him while she cleaned herself off. "Go play," he chuffed to Leaper. "I will come soon."
Leaper glanced in the direction of the remains of the prey, which they had distanced a bit due to the annoying bugs. "We will rest here next night?" Affirmative, Dreamer chuffed. "Then I want fly. Will come back later"
"Not fly near Long-Paw nest," Dreamer called after him as he trotted out of the trees and took wing. There was no suggestion he wanted to be followed. At least he was camouflaged in the night, and would see danger long before it saw him…
Dreamer growled aggravation, incredulity to his mate. "You killed Long-Paw? You went into their nest!?"
"I wanted to," she growled over her shoulder. "Leaper needs to learn. That Long-Paw made me angry, was good hunt." She huffed. "None saw us."
Grrr, it wasn't as if he could lecture her that killing was bad when that was literally what they were here for. But she was clouding that distinction for Leaper, who might go off thinking it was perfectly fine to kill anyone if he disagreed with something they did. Really, it should be Dreamer himself taking him into nests to learn about Long-Paws… "I will talk with him later…" Amused, Fleeting snorted dryly as she walked out of the trees, then took flight towards the lake.
"She is tired," Reaching hummed as she stepped up beside Dreamer, startling him a little. "We all are tired. Resting next night will be good." They both glanced across to Wanderer, who was apparently out cold.
"I did say this would be difficult," Dreamer rumbled, settling his head on his paws, then groaned under his breath while paws kneaded his shoulders. Maybe they should quit while they were ahead… but then maybe they would need to do all this again, against a Grimmel who had time to prepare…
There was nothing to do for now except carry on the hunt.
Wanderer found comfort in darkness. Each night was short with the hot-season nearing its zenith, so short it was almost pointless to plan their flights around as they would need to fly during the light anyway. Still, whether they were flying or resting, night brought some small relief from the constant stress and anxiety, allowing him to relax a little more while they were hidden in darkness.
Although, feeling safer apparently came with its own issues. "Leaper!" he barked again as he reached the end of his son's trail, which abruptly stopped at a clearing in the forest they had slept in for the long afternoon. Frustration, he growled, walking out into the light of the sky-sparks to stare at the sky.
"Not worry," Reaching crooned, "he is safe, nothing will find him while night. He has good thinking for fledgling."
"Not telling us he is wandering off, that not is good thinking," he growled. They needed to keep moving, stay ahead of the ones hunting them and keep on the offensive. "We need keep flying. He not should be tiring himself out now."
"He not understands that," she said gently, sitting next to him and pressing up against his side. "He only knows you are making him fly. But he wants do his own things now, learning for when he flies his nest. Just rest now, he will return soon. Next nest must be near, so you will need your strength…"
Agreement, he rumbled reluctantly. "Maybe I should know that. Fleeting not is worried." Dreamer was gliding around to look for him, but the females didn't seem concerned and would have a better idea of what was normal.
Reaching's gaze fell a little. "I think Fleeting… Wrrr, you should ask her. Something is biting her tail, she is being strange." She nudged his jaw with her snout and stepped forwards to spread her wings. "You should do that now. I will help look for Leaper." And with that, she took off into the night.
Wanderer huffed to himself and turned to walk back into the trees. He had noticed Fleeting was more biting than usual, almost cold towards them on occasion, but they were all tired and stressed. Some of that was to be expected. But the only similar experience he could relate it to was that she was behaving a bit like when she'd been carrying an egg, which thankfully was not a possibility now, so he really didn't know whether there was a problem with her. Reaching would know more, and had suggested he should talk to her… so maybe there was something more to it.
He became certain of that when he emerged from the trees to find his mate lying listlessly where he'd left her, paws either side of her snout and her ears limp. Worried, he chuffed quietly – she scrambled to her paws to shake herself off, then sat on her haunches to clean her head and neck. "Something is biting you," he said gently as he approached, sitting next to her to put a wing over her back.
"I am tired," she said quietly. "You are tired. Leaper is… growing, but also tired."
Agreement, he hummed. "We fly, fight, for sky-ice-cycle now. Maybe need fight for that much time again. Then it will be over." But he could tell there was more she wasn't telling him, so lightly nuzzled her ear with a prompting croon.
"I just… am being stupid," she growled, huddling against him. "I agreed we should fight. Not know what else we can do. Not worry…" He lightly bit her ear in warning, refusing to accept that for an answer, then when she still didn't say anything, growled at her. "What you want me to say?" she growled at the ground between their paws. "That you should do more? You already fighting for our lives, if I had mated any other males I would be dead seasons past." Frustration, despair, she half growled and half whined. "I not can do anything. Not can fight these hunters like you do, not can think like Dreamer does. I just… am Dam. I feel bad I not can do more for Leaper but I am exhausted… But Leaper needs Sire also, but you already doing more than me…"
"Being Dam is very big thing for do," he crooned sympathetically into her neck, holding her tightly to his side with his wing while she whined under her breath. "We are trying… I know you are trying also, helping him when I should be with him. You are doing much."
She growled at him. "I know that. But I not can only be Dam! He is our son, I love him much, but… I not remember when I last felt your nose under my tail, or you chased me in tall grass under warm sky-fire, or we flew above clouds to roar at sky-ice… Not since we flew from our territory. I miss being your mate…"
"I miss that also," he hummed into her ears. "I not can do more now… but not be sad. Grrr, when cooling-season comes, we will mate you so much you not can walk. That sound good?"
"Mrrr, you can try," she purred, rubbing against him. "But… maybe we can do small things? Not need to mate, but I would like feeling your nose under my tail…"
Uncertain, Wanderer churred. "I… not remember doing that," he admitted; usually, when he was in the mood, he just grabbed her.
"That because you never do that," she growled, awkwardly swatting at his paw. "You should. Just… I need feel that you still want me…"
A bark of summons, relieved, came from above, and they both glanced up; it seemed that Leaper had been found. "I will do that," he promised as he stood and briefly stretched, watching his mate out of the corner of his eye… As she turned for the nearest tree, he tried to get his nose under her tail, but she darted away with a sly, challenging glance back at him.
Wrrr, it had been worth a shot. Although, now he was going to be thinking about her tail for as long as they flew. This was going to be a long night…
Nest number three, Dreamer thought to himself as he quietly pawed open the outer door, Wanderer beside him ready to leap inside, and Reaching in the air above to keep watch.
It had not been a difficult nest to find, compared to the others. A single village built on the side of a large lake, looking drab and grey even compared to the sloped, rocky landscape surrounding it. The area reeked of Death-Grippers, and a worn path leading from the village wound up a slope of large, jagged rocks before abruptly ending in a cave. The village itself did seem to have a few small farms, but in farming terms, the land here seemed less hospitable than even Berk. But how they survived here was irrelevant, even if they were dependent on helping Grimmel. They were breeding Death-Grippers to hunt Nightstrikers. That had to stop.
Wanderer slinked inside, and Dreamer followed him in, eyes and nose sharp for anything out of the ordinary. As with all the nests so far, this one had a short corridor with a heavy door at each end, a sensible precaution to prevent any Death-Grippers escaping, though they were clearly not designed to prevent an intelligent dragon; they didn't even have locks. If they backed off now and gave Grimmel time to rebuild what they'd destroyed, that all might change.
But that was irrelevant right now, so he focused on the hunt while Wanderer quietly pawed open the inner door to peer into the firelit room beyond. Dreamer tensed, ready to leap in after him… but Wanderer just slinked inside, apparently finding no immediate resistance. Inside was the expected cages of Death-Grippers, six this time, and tables of metal things, including the weights, spare bindings, and various chain-linked clasps he really didn't want to know the purpose of. But although the room was lit, there were no Long-Paws inside.
Like the other nests, a single door at the back led deeper in, the only exit other than the one they had just come through. A quick survey of the room confirmed there was no threat other than the Death-Grippers they had come to kill, still safely locked in their cages. Wanderer hadn't found anything either, so they moved to the back door, Dreamer cracking it open to peer inside before slipping into the hallway beyond.
The Long-Paws tending this nest must be in this back room, and had probably heard the growling and snarling of the Death-Grippers in the main chamber. Dreamer didn't know whether they would realise they were under attack, but the quicker they were taken care of, the less time they had to wonder about it. Balancing swiftness and silence, he lifted the latch with his nose and pushed to peer inside the crack-
He flung the door open and instantly fired, Wanderer adding a second shot almost simultaneously, but a Death-Gripper leapt forwards to take the shots to its armoured back. Wind rushed past Dreamer through the door, the larger destructive shots not punching into him as fiercely as a more impactful concussive shot, and smoke filled the room, but he still had a good view of the Long-Paw arrogantly slouching in the chair before them. "I will forgive," Grimmel said darkly, clearing his throat and waving at the smoke drifting around him. "Once." He whistled two short tones, and the Death-Gripper in front of him walked backwards to its previous position by his side.
Warning, Dreamer growled, eyeing the score of Death-Grippers arrayed in an arc around the door; they'd need to kill the many torches behind them to have a chance of attacking. "Yes, yes," Grimmel said flippantly, flicking a hand at him, "you'll bite my head off the moment you get the chance. I will simply need to be careful to not give you that chance. Is it so hard to believe I only wish to talk?" They both growled at him. "Ah, you got me," Grimmel said gleefully in his clipped accent, "I am still going to kill you. But I do want to talk. You know, I have seen some Night Furies do some remarkable things. Impossible things. Some of my first hunts… ehh, they did not go so well. But never before have any given me so much trouble. Striking at my farms!? Ha! I love it."
He stood to walk among his dragons, staring at the ground. Dreamer eyed him warily, trying to figure out his ploy, as distrustful as he was curious; he genuinely did seem to want to tell them something, judging by his body language and tone. "I have many years left in me yet," he said whimsically, "but age creeps up on us all… Even those who would cheat it," and with that he eyed them knowingly, "though I of course have no such luxury." He turned and began wandering the other way, staring at his feet as he kicked them forwards in a lazy, swinging gait. However much it appeared his guard was down, the Death-Grippers were watching intently, poised to leap in defence of their master.
"Yes, you are different. You gave me quite the slip last year! Not even my little gift helped me track you… I even flew to your piddly little Viking village, and the nest of, shall we call them, Day Furies?" He shrugged with a frown. "My Death-Grippers ate well both times, but you were elsewhere… Just as well, that would have been so very boring." He glanced up at them with a grin, neither of them able to restrain their furious snarling. "I see I need to get to my point. Very well. You," he lazily gestured at Wanderer, "want to kill me. You will die as have hundreds before you. But you…" His outstretched arm drifted towards Dreamer. "I have decided to kill you last of all. Yes, I see those schemes behind your eyes… Even now, you wonder how to bend the world to your will. To stop this cycle of madness that enthrals every one of us! We want the same thing, in the end. And you are going to help me reach that, whether you-"
Whatever else he was saying was lost as a roar of danger, panic! echoed from outside. Dreamer and Wanderer were both back through the hallway and halfway through the main chamber, well ahead of the pursuit stampeding after them, before Grimmel had even finished his next word. With thundering cracks, blue flashes lit the open doors and intervening tunnel, and when Dreamer leapt outside mere moments later it was barely ahead of four Death-Grippers lunging to block the opening. He fired over his shoulder to cover Wanderer behind him, who leapt off the back of one to hurtle into the sky, and they quickly spun to fire two shots each at the entrance to collapse it.
Summons, danger, Wanderer roared as they joined Reaching, and they began circling around in their ascent to let Fleeting and Leaper catch up. Dreamer eyed the cave, watching the Death-Grippers around the entrance stare up at him, not bothering to give chase – he barked alarm as the full flock of Death-Grippers erupted into the air from further up the rocky rise, closely followed by the flying frame. He didn't feel too threatened, a fair distance ahead already and hidden in the night, but Grimmel didn't seem to care.
Dreamer's mind raced. There was a lot vying for his attention, but he needed to figure out what to do. He would have noticed if a pawful of Death-Grippers had been missing from Grimmel's entourage, and yet there had been more waiting outside. They weren't the ones from this nest, those had still been in their cages. Of course, that could only mean Grimmel had taken them from the nest they had skipped in their hunt. That ruled out going back as an option.
In fact, that negated a lot of their advantage. Grimmel didn't need to worry about protecting what was behind him, only keeping up with them. Had he sent messages to the other nests already? He of course knew where they were, could fly there directly; that was undoubtedly how he'd beaten them here. And on top of that, he had an even larger force of dragons to hunt them with.
Dreamer looked up at Wanderer, who was watching him patiently but tensely, waiting for him to announce the answer to their predicament. But… he didn't have an answer. They needed a direction to fly, and before the flock could rise up to meet them…
They couldn't go back, and they couldn't go forward. That only left fleeing, now, just when they were starting to get ahead in this war. Grimmel would only be smarter in hunting them, and would better protect his Death-Gripper nests. He met Wanderer's gaze again – and baulked at the idea he found there. Death-Grippers were much less agile in the air. They made up for it with a huge numbers advantage, but that was all but negated against Nightstrikers hidden in the night. Lacking any better options…
Fleeting finally caught up with Leaper, and Dreamer clenched his teeth. "Fly high," he snarled to her and Reaching. "We will fight."