Author's Notes

Well, that took a little longer than expected; work still finding new ways to keep me busy, plus we've been in the process of shopping for a new house and selling our own.

But the story is now finished, other than a few tweaks here and there. Four chapters after this one, which will post on a weekly schedule. Once I smooth out the last few bumps, I'm going to go back and re-edit at least the first 40 chapters, which I've already made a solid start on. Turns out I've learned a few things over the last three years.

I know this was a bit of a rough place to pause, even besides being right on a cliffhanger. But trust me... you'll be glad to have weekly updates from this point.

Pale light shone down from a dark sky. A stern wind blew from the west, smelling heavy and damp. The wings of a score of Death-Grippers flickered below as they rushed to ascend. Dreamer took a long, shaky breath, mentally preparing himself for the most insane fight of his life and wrestling with a feeling of vertigo brought on by fear; fear for himself, but more fear for his family in the air with him.

Wanderer ducked into a dive, heading towards the imminent fray, the flock of Death-Grippers with Grimmel riding in his big metal frame all rising up to meet them. Dreamer dove after him an instant later, leaving Fleeting, Reaching, and Leaper to keep climbing out of reach.

He bared his teeth. Flying into impossible odds was something they were all too familiar with, but they had a shot at ending this, here, now. And when they jackknifed in the air and came up either side of a trio of slightly smaller Death-Grippers lagging slightly behind the others, shredding through the wings of two and shoving them into the third before any of them could react, those odds became a little less impossible.

The two injured Death-Grippers screeched as they plummeted, flailing their useless wings. Wanderer sharply banked around to take the third before it could recover, grappling its wing to near enough break it off with his momentum while Dreamer fired at the others to cover his instant retreat.

They stayed close as they backed off and sped around their targets, silently watching for opportunity as the Death-Grippers floundered around the sudden attack on their rear. The real target was Grimmel himself, but he was in the thick of them, the formation ready to leap in front of any fire and ensure no claws would survive to reach him. Dreamer had used five shots so far this night, and Wanderer three, of the six shots they could use offensively, which was getting a bit low to just use for a distraction.

A series of whistles pricked Dreamer's ears, and the flock quickly corrected itself, uniting and resuming its ascent in formation around the frame. The whistling, that was how Grimmel was organising so many, conditioned commands that could be issued quickly and easily. He'd need to keep an ear on those…

Wanderer bared his teeth and fired into the tight formation, Dreamer banking for the opening it would give and coming up on the edge from a slightly different angle. The shot was blocked, only to be expected, but the shockwave disrupted the formation and briefly obscured part of it in thick smoke. It wasn't as much as he'd hoped, only allowing him a passing swoop to clip a wing lifted too high out of position-

Two more shots lanced down from above, closely followed by two more, slamming into the head of the flock and halting it in its tracks. Dreamer sharply banked for a Death-Gripper pushed out of position at the flanks, tearing into the back of its wing with his teeth and spinning to deflect the tail stabbing for him. A nearby Death-Gripper tried making a pass at him, putting itself out of position, and he swung around to take it too – but four short whistles had him angle away in caution, which proved warranted as two other Death-Grippers broke formation to cover it.

A second Death-Gripper was falling with the one he'd just grounded, and he passed Wanderer going the other way, keeping speed as they circled. Dreamer banked around to join him, noting that with the ascent they were gradually losing the speed from their dive, though they worked their wings to keep what they could. They were much faster than the Death-Grippers, in any case. Another pair of shots rained down from above with similar effect, again causing the tightly-grouped Death-Grippers to slow. Dreamer sharply banked for one pushed out of formation-

The sharp crack had him reflexively roll and bank away before he even knew what was happening, and a large bolt hissed through the air near to where he had been flying. Grimmel's form was obscured by his hooded coat, but Dreamer spotted him on one of the ballistae mounted on the arms of his frame just in time to hastily dodge another long shaft that would have gone through his wing. He grit his teeth; they could only go for openings, but that made them predictable.

He backed off as another whistle cut through the constant hum of wingbeats, two short notes, though it just seemed to be the order to level off. They were all high above the ground now, picking up speed, though Dreamer and Wanderer still had the momentum advantage. He glanced up, hoping Fleeting and Reaching would give them another opportunity – every grounded Death-Gripper made the fight a little easier – but glimpsed Grimmel scampering across the arm of his frame, towards the centre, and fired in an attempt to destabilise him; only that last reserve shot left now. The shot was blocked by a Death-Gripper darting in front of it, only to be expected, though the shockwave rocked the whole formation. He could no longer see Grimmel, but he hadn't fallen-

Searing, burning light erupted from the cluster of Death-Grippers, Dreamer's shriek echoing Wanderer's as he was blinded. He instinctively angled away from the light, blinking heavily to try to get his eyes working again – realisation came a moment later, and he rolled and caught the wind upside-down to yank himself away from the talons that slashed through the air he had just been occupying. He flicked out his sub-wings, momentarily freezing at seeing the whole flock had dispersed and spread out, leaving him all but surrounded.

The Death-Grippers were slow, but there were still a lot of them, and every time he swerved and banked away he was met by even more swooping down at him – he was far from Grimmel's frame, how could they even track him!? He blinked his eyes open, just in time to catch a stiff wind to lift him over wild slashes from a Death-Gripper that left a bright scar across his vision as it passed, something attached to its back-spine hissing with blinding fire, and he caught a strong scent of something similar to Spine-Tail fire that confused and concerned him for a moment.

Haste, retreat, Wanderer roared, though a glance suggested he was having just as difficult a time disengaging. Another blue shot lanced down from above, but the Death-Grippers were too spread out for it to do anything, and Dreamer was flying out of his mind around the endless assault.

He was slowly losing momentum too, needing to work harder and harder to stay faster than the Death-Grippers and make these tight turns, though his wings felt close to tearing off. Retreat, he roared to get Wanderer's attention, then wrenched himself into a dive to pick up speed. His sound-sight, and Wanderer's echoing from a short distance away, revealed the half-dozen Death-Grippers hurtling down after him, their limbs tucked tightly to their bodies. Dreamer grit his teeth, making every minor adjustment to streamline himself as much as possible. Trading height brought speed, but height was a better advantage.

However, he was a Nightstriker, his whole body designed to slip through the air with minimal resistance. Death-Grippers had foregone some of that for defences, and as such were gradually falling behind. Not as quickly as Dreamer would have liked, but hopefully enough. He eyed the rapidly-approaching ground as he reached maximum speed, then tested the air, picked his moment, and threw out his wings.

He heard his body creak as he wrenched himself out of the dive, every surface straining against the rushing wind. As expected, the Death-Grippers levelled out above him, but they had not been nearly so fast and efficient and were left behind before long, losing sight of him as he left the range of the intense light they somehow carried. Weary, he groaned to himself. That could have gone better.

But he couldn't relax now, it was far from over. He angled his wings to hurtle back up into the sky, beginning the climb back up to the others. Grimmel was rising again, surrounded by a bright haze that Fleeting, Leaper, and Reaching were well within. And on top of that, the Death-Grippers beneath them were preventing them from diving.

This had gone from bad to worse. "We need to flee!" he shouted to Wanderer, who banked around to meet up with him. He didn't know where they could flee to, but all he could focus on was how erratic and hasty Leaper's wingbeats were, how frightened he must be.

Wanderer glanced at the two clouds of Death-Grippers that had chased them, now rising back towards the rest of the flock but much further behind, then snarled and threw himself into his wingbeats. He couldn't be thinking… They would be at a speed disadvantage by the time they made it up there, and several Death-Grippers still surrounded Grimmel in addition to the ones carrying the frame. There was no way that…

No… this could work. The Death-Grippers couldn't commit too hard or they would leave Grimmel vulnerable. Dreamer took a few shaky breaths, ignoring the burning fatigue in his wings and the rest of his body, and steeled himself as they steadily closed the distance.

Wanderer, always the faster flyer, engaged with them first, making a testing pass and swerving away as they lunged for him. Dreamer darted in behind him, going for the wings of the closer dragon but only getting a slash across his foreleg for his trouble. He needed more momentum, but taking the time to build it would let the other Death-Grippers catch up!

More firebolts streaked down from above, and they again lunged into the fray, Dreamer immediately darting away from a counter-strike but Wanderer taking advantage and shredding the Death-Gripper's wings – two dark shapes hurtled down from above and tackled two more, including one that was carrying Grimmel's frame. An instant later, a ballista bolt whizzed over Dreamer's head, and the flock scattered.

In the chaos, Dreamer grabbed onto the vacant arm of the frame as it spun past, all too ready to leap across it and rip Grimmel to shreds – but the Long-Paw wasn't anywhere to be seen, and his fallback plan to break the damn thing instantly fell apart as he recognised the light and rigid feel of Gronckle Iron. He swung underneath it and kicked it at a Death-Gripper to push off, tangling it in the metal beams, and lit his reserve shot in his mouth to try to make some sense of everything going on.

The only person he could recognise was Leaper from his smaller size, desperately veering around with a Death-Gripper on his tail; he must have tried to dive past in the chaos. But before Dreamer could do anything, someone tackled it, creating an opening for Leaper to angle away from everything and into a shallow dive to flee. Everyone noticed it, kicking away from the frenzied scrap and darting out into open air, making for the fledgling and the Nightstriker who had aided him.

Dreamer was the first to make it to the pair, staring at Reaching with more gratitude than he could ever remember feeling. She twisted her head uncomfortably, and Dreamer spotted the gash down her neck as it caught the light still shining from behind them.

He hadn't escaped unscathed himself. Apparently his tail had been slashed at some point, a deep wound now throbbing just behind his sub-wings, and a myriad of scrapes and scores burned over his body. They were all a bit beaten up, by the way the others were flying. All except Leaper, thank goodness.

But Grimmel wasn't giving up yet. "You cannot run forever, Night Fury!" he shouted from the back of a Death-Gripper, his voice faint as it was carried away on the wind. "Come at me with everything you've got, the last gasp of your dead species, and let us finally end this insane war!"

"You need fly faster," Fleeting urged Leaper, who whined fear, exhaustion back at her. Dreamer winced with a few heavy wingbeats to pull ahead and put his son in his slipstream for easier flying, and with a few more flaps, their speed improved enough to stay ahead. It would have to be enough. Grimmel probably wouldn't try to outfly them, only push them to their limit and hold them there until they couldn't go any further.

Or rather, push them to Leaper's limit. That was undoubtedly why Grimmel seemed so eager to hunt them down, while he left others to live in fear. That, and maybe a few other things he had said…

That didn't matter now. Everyone was glancing his way, looking for guidance and maybe reassurance. They couldn't just fly aimlessly, they needed somewhere to go. He glanced around for his own peace of mind, noting the distance of the pursuit and how alert everyone else was, before taking a breath and going through their options. He knew of nothing nearby that would help. The scent of rain drifting on the wind might be something, but he couldn't think how to turn it into a solution. They needed…

Help. They couldn't run, they couldn't hide, and fighting wasn't feasible with just the two of them. The Lightstrikers' nest was far away, but they were fast, nimble, and could camouflage. There was what Grimmel had said about visiting them, which was extremely worrying… He wouldn't have left any alive. Perhaps he had been lying, though it hadn't sounded like it… Twenty Death-Grippers could very well have made short work of them with the right setup, the right timing, which he would undoubtedly-

A flood of relief came with a simple realisation. Grimmel had left a trail from each of his Death-Gripper nests directly to that forested territory; he couldn't have taken them to the Lighstriker nest. He must have gone with the six or so Death-Grippers they'd left him with last year, which surely couldn't have been enough to wipe them out, Rising was smarter than that. The same had to go for Berk. So either he was somehow lying to a Nightstriker, something nobody had managed to so far, or he'd gone in for a quick strike and left once he'd confirmed his targets were elsewhere.

In fact… It was callous to think, but that might actually be helpful. Rising might not like them bringing a threat to her home, or sending her nest out hunting for a Long-Paw however much she liked Nightstrikers; she was a responsible alpha. But if Grimmel had attacked them already, she would be eager to eliminate another threat to her home. Dreamer worried for her, for Whispering, Searching, the other females, the whole nest in fact. But he needed their help, and if they wanted to survive, Grimmel needed to die before he could take it upon himself to finish the job.

That was getting ahead of himself. First, they needed to escape as quickly as possible well before dawn, and those Death-Grippers were tenaciously pursuing them with that infuriating light that still cast shadows into the air ahead. A glance back showed they were even still carrying the flying frame, another Death-Gripper having replaced the missing one, and were arrayed in an efficient formation spreading out to either side-

A crack sounded from behind, and Dreamer was a moment slow in processing before he barked alarm and swerved aside, prompting everyone else to do the same. A ballista bolt hissed past a heartbeat later, too close for comfort. Anger, Fleeting snarled, then flipped over and fired in retaliation, righting herself without even bothering to confirm what little effect it had.

Wanderer flicked out his sub-wings, letting his sound-sight screech through the night to grant a somewhat hazy view of what was behind. Dreamer could see Grimmel hunched over the ballista, but no second shot came… for now. He had to have limited ammo, but hitting them probably wasn't his goal. No, he was back to his original strategies; wear down his targets until they collapsed from exhaustion. They would need to remain vigilant until they could outfly him.

That would happen, Dreamer could see the air around himself was already a little darker. For all that had happened, the night was still young. They could make it.

Wanderer found himself fighting a stiff headwind as dawn approached, pushing him to his very limit. It had been useful to ride against and make some lateral distance, hopefully losing their pursuers, but actual progress was slow and tiring.

The flight to the Lightstrikers would take over a pawful of nights, if it was just him and Dreamer. With two of them they would be able to quickly fish in any lakes or rivers they found. They would need to hunt if Fleeting and Reaching were with them, which would be a little slower. But with Leaper…

The fledgling was barely holding up as it was, and it was only the first night. The last time they had fled like this, they had carried him. Now he was too big for that to be an option, about as big as the average adult Long-Paw. A difficult age between being too big to carry and too small to keep up. The poor fledgling looked exhausted, though he hadn't complained; he was probably too tired. He was probably hungry too, but the hunters had been relentless, even lighting more bright-light things as each one fizzled out, and it had taken more of the night to escape than they had hoped.

"We need to eat," Dreamer said reluctantly. He wouldn't suggest their only real option, but they couldn't afford to hunt, not unless they just happened upon where a prey-pack was hiding for the night. Wanderer had no problems making that decision for him, angling them towards a Long-Paw nest they were coming up to. Everyone else silently followed his lead.

The first hint of light was just beginning to grace the sky as they drifted into a quiet landing near a Long-Paw den that seemed to contain prey, judging by the fences and trodden ground, though the first thing they did was stretch. Wanderer's wings trembled as he gently folded them, wincing at the sharp ache but sighing relief all the same. Leaper didn't even bother to do that, just collapsing on his side in some short grass next to one of the fences.

Unfortunately, they didn't have time to rest. After quickly working his stiff body, both Wanderer and Dreamer approached the den warily, scenting for sharp metal and anything else unexpected; he wasn't assuming anything was safe at the moment. The stink of prey was prominent, the dull, smooth scent of the metal lock, the old wood that made up the door, the expected metal at the edges that allowed it to open and close… Confident, Dreamer huffed quietly, glancing to the others, then pulled open the door-

The prey bleated and brayed as two predators leaped into their den, helpless against their sharp teeth. Once they had dragged their kills outside, Fleeting and Reaching darted in to secure their own meals, emerging shortly after. At a stern bark, Leaper just about managed to climb to his paws, and then Wanderer's wings were burning again as they wearily took flight.

A nearby forest was the best they could make, weaving through the outer trees until they became too dense to fly around, where they dropped their kills and stumbled to a halt. Wanderer just collapsed onto his side, more interested in resting than eating at the moment; although he was hungry, he didn't have much of an appetite. Vaguely, he was aware of Dreamer doing the same.

When he got up to eat, he still would have preferred to rest, but he needed to eat sooner rather than try to fly with a full belly later. Lying down afterwards, knowing he could allow himself to descend into that deep, inviting darkness, was sheer bliss…

He jolted awake to a low bark of alarm, rolling to his paws and blinking blindly. It felt as if he'd barely slept at all, though the sky-fire suggested it was mid-afternoon. "Move," Fleeting hissed, then grabbed Leaper by the scruff and dragged him deeper into the forest, ignoring his writhing and small whine of protest.

After a moment to get his bearings, Wanderer glanced around, quickly spotting the shapes scattered around the bright sky. Some of them were even quite close, gliding towards the forest in which they were resting while others kept watch from afar – he lurched to his paws to follow Fleeting, catching up with her as she bit Leaper's tail to get him moving.

He could probably take on a Death-Gripper or two with Dreamer, maybe three if they needed to. But it would bring the others, who were already in the air and had a significant height advantage. Fleeting had to know this to be leading them deeper into the forest, making distance before they took to the air. That would give them the head-start they needed to get up to speed and stay ahead.

Because this would almost certainly be another long chase. Wanderer groaned under his breath, trying to get a better idea of how late in the afternoon it was, how long they'd be perfectly visible from a great distance. Once night fell they could veer off and lose their pursuit the same way they had before, leaving no tracks to follow, which would allow them to slow down and catch their breath…

After what felt like an eternity of running, only accompanied by the sounds of the wind shaking the trees and their paws pounding the ground, a roar of hunting picked up behind them. "Fly now!" Dreamer barked, leaping for a tree, and Wanderer clambered up another to leap into the air.

A sharp wind instantly caught his wings, which he reflexively angled into for lift. Leaper seemed to have a bit of trouble finding the right angle, flapping and struggling with the strength of the gale, but soon managed a shaky climb, picking up speed as he went. Wanderer glanced back, seeing the entire scattered flock heading towards them and the big metal thing rising up out of the Long-Paw nest; that thing, at least, would be far behind, so there hopefully wouldn't be a sporadic heavy quill fired at them while they fled.

Although that might be the least of their worries. The horizon was smudged and grey, and the wind howled across the land, mostly steady for now but promising far worse to come. It was almost as if the weather itself was trying to push them all back, towards the sharp stingers, talons, tusks, claws, and teeth eager to tear into them.

There wasn't anything to do but push on. He put himself in front of Leaper, taking the brunt of the wind and letting him ride the slipstream. Fleeting pulled in between them, to further ease Leaper's flight, and Dreamer fell into position beside her, ready to take over when Wanderer tired, with Reaching falling to the back.

They flew. The Death-Grippers behind them were spread out, but gradually converged into a more efficient flight pattern as the sky-fire descended; somehow, the ones at the back had caught up. Wanderer flew as much as he felt able before glancing back at Dreamer, wordlessly requesting a swap, which happened smoothly. The pull behind Dreamer's wing was a relief, but still, he had underestimated how fierce the wind was pushing them back; if only it were blowing the other way, they could reach the Lightstriker nest in two nights instead of eight or probably more.

And then it got worse. Instead of just blowing against them, it gusted in different directions, jostling them side to side and suddenly coming up on their tail only to slam into them from the front again. He wasn't even mindful of the pursuit anymore, just focused on keeping the right direction and moving forwards.

"We need to land!" Dreamer roared, and a moment later they were pelted with rain. At some point the sky-fire had disappeared behind a massive swathe of dark clouds, bringing an early darkness to the land and sky, rapidly obscuring everything as the rain became heavier. Leaper yelped as he was blown off-course, but Wanderer held his fire in his mouth and gave chase, following the echoes to stay close while they descended.

A deep, thundering growl echoed across the sky as they reached the ground, rough hilly terrain that offered no shelter, paws splashing into rivulets of water cascading through the grass. "Dig!" he barked, throwing himself at a nearby steep incline, and everyone leapt forwards to claw through the roots and mud while the torrential downpour beat upon their backs and the wind grabbed and snatched at their wings even held tightly to their sides.

Finally with something of an entrance, Wanderer began widening out the inside, until Dreamer could fit inside as well to add his claws to the task, and then Reaching too, while Fleeting and Leaper pawed the loose dirt away. Finally, they could all fit inside, and Wanderer stepped outside again to wash the mud off his claws and body while Dreamer dug out a bit more of the entrance. When Wanderer stepped inside again, he was hit by the sudden contrast, a complete lack of roaring wind and driving rain. And water was no longer pooling inside, which was also good.

"Why this happen now," he grumbled, collapsing into the cramped space with a groan. There was no way even he could fly in this weather; this was certainly one of the fiercest storms he'd ever experienced.

"Maybe not is all bad," Dreamer hummed, shuffling into the squashed tangle of limbs and bodies. "Hunters also not can fly. We can rest. Just hope we can find food…"

Light flashed from outside, and a pawful of life-beats later brought the deep peal of thunder, the sky growling and snarling angrily. "Sleep is good," Wanderer agreed, shuffling to get comfortable on the legs and tail he was lying on. Fleeting didn't seem to mind – in fact, she surprised him with a snore, already out cold.

"I not think she slept this light," Reaching said sadly, lightly nuzzling the other female's ear. "I not even thought to watch for danger…"

Agreement, guilt, Wanderer rumbled, looking over his mate. He hadn't thought of it either, had been too tired to even consider it. Had she not picked up that burden… the Death-Grippers might have caught them where they slept. He felt proud of her, deeply appreciating he had mated such a strong female. And while he was thinking about responsible females… "I saw what you did for Leaper," he hummed quietly, trying not to disturb Fleeting as he half climbed onto her to gratefully nuzzle Reaching's cheek. Agreement, Dreamer purred heartily, gently licking her neck from the other side; she seemed to have a gash down to her shoulder.

She purred quietly and leaned into them, enjoying the attention. "I only helped like you helped me…"

"Is good when everyone helps," Dreamer rumbled contentedly, then yawned widely and slumped to the ground. Wanderer agreed wholeheartedly with that, making himself comfortable draped over Fleeting and a little over Reaching, content in the knowledge that the storm would protect them. And given the ongoing flashes of lightning and steadily increasing downpour, it wasn't abating any time soon.

The scent of fresh earth tickled Dreamer's nose, even stronger than that of the sheer amount of water still streaming from the sky outside. A pleasant mix of scents, it strongly reminded him of the farms back on Berk, the first rainfall after they had been tilled and seeded, an unexpected little reminder of home.

He wondered how everything was going back there, as he scraped dirt out of their little hole to enlarge it a bit more while Wanderer and Reaching braved the weather to look for food – they needed to find some, given the storm had raged all night and the entirety of the following light without any sign of relenting. It was funny, Grimmel had to be mere minutes away by air – he'd been right on their tail – but in these elements it would take him days to reach them by paw, let alone actually find them.

Still, it made Dreamer restless, hence widening their temporary den. There was little point in keeping watch, he could barely see the bottom of the little hill, and it seemed likely they would be stuck here for a little while. A bit more room would be appreciated by all.

Some roots snagged his claws as he pawed at the wall, maybe a short dip in the hill that he hadn't noticed. "I think we should dig over here now," he rumbled to Leaper, padding to the back of the den. It would end up in a bit of a funny shape, but he didn't want to disturb Fleeting too much, who blocked the other side. The fledgling wordlessly joined him to half-heartedly paw at the wall. "You are good?" Dreamer asked as he raked his claws through the dirt, letting it cascade to the ground around his other forepaw.

Leaper stared vacantly for a few heartbeats, long enough to be worrying, while he absently picked at the wall. "That wing-hunter," he said slowly, quietly. "It wanted eat me…"

Sympathy, Dreamer sighed, shuffling over and putting a wing over his son to hold him close. "They are bad hunters," he agreed. "But we not will let that happen. That is why we need to fight, fly much. Hrrr, you know where we are going now?" Leaper shuffled his paws, huddling to Dreamer's leg, before huffing negative. "We are going to nest of Lightstrikers." He smiled a little as Leaper's ears lifted with interest. "They are like us, but cloud-colour. Very many of them, pawfuls. Also have fledgling there, one cold-season older than you."

"Will… want play with me…?" Leaper asked tentatively.

Come to think of it, that male had never approached them to properly meet his daughter, but Wanderer had certainly got the impression she was playful. "Yes, I think she would much like playing with you," he hummed, nuzzling over Leaper's frills. In a few years she would probably want to do other things with him too… That was a weird thought; he didn't feel ready to be a grandsire.

It seemed to have helped a little, but Leaper still seemed a bit out of it. Dreamer nudged him with a prompting purr, asking if there was anything he could do. "I tired," the fledgling sighed, nuzzling into Dreamer's chest. Understanding, Dreamer hummed, pulling the fledgling over towards Fleeting for some company. She lazily cracked an eye as they approached, and shuffled onto her side to offer a spot under her wing. Leaper hesitantly padded towards her, but stopped, and turned back to Dreamer. "You can… flame ground…?"

Dreamer chuffed agreement, stepping over and warming the ground between Fleeting's outstretched paws with a stream of fire. Leaper ducked into the spot almost before he was finished, curling up in his dam's embrace as he was covered with a warm wing. His purrs were audible shortly after.

With that done, Dreamer let himself get lost to his task again, mind wandering but keeping himself grounded by focusing on the little details of figuring out more efficient ways to scoop the dirt out of the den and how high to dig so that when he trod it down he ended up with a nice level floor. It was difficult to get an idea of how much he'd dug out, as the rain washed away whatever he kicked outside, but he had little other sense of time; the sky-fire could still be out for all he knew.

A bark from outside alleviated any background worry about Wanderer and Reaching, and he leapt to the entrance to see two dark shapes hauling a third through the mud. He stepped outside – and immediately the wind assaulted him, prying his wings from his side and pulling him from the den, almost lifting him into the sky. The rain was so heavy it felt like a solid weight on his back, and he had to squint through it to actually see anything.

"Inside!" he barked over the gale, grabbing a leg from the side of the prey and heaving it up the slope. The three of them made short work of the distance, and it just about fit through the hole, Dreamer shoving it from outside before following it in.

The sudden peace was as disorienting as stepping out into the chaos, and he took a moment to shake his head and then the rest of himself as best he could in the once again cramped space. Water still dripped from his whole body after, but it wasn't that cold so he didn't mind it. "You hunted in that?" Dreamer growled incredulously, hoping he sounded as amazed and grateful as he felt.

"We were lucky," Reaching said with a huff. "Also good that you dig out more den. I thought we would need eat out there!" Dreamer winced; that hadn't been his intention, but he was glad he'd done so.

They all tore into the meat, eating their fill and then some; it seemed to be some kind of yak-like thing, not a type of prey he had seen before but as fulfilling and satisfying as any other land-prey. There was no reason not to stuff themselves, they weren't flying anywhere any time soon, and after they picked it clean they pushed the remains back out into the storm and cleaned up after themselves. Dreamer was proud of what he'd done with the temporary den, it didn't seem like much in the face of hunting in such fierce weather but it felt a lot roomier now, more comfortable. With that said, they still all huddled together at the back, enjoying each other's warmth.

There was little to do but rest, and show a little affection on the occasional whim. That was, until something curious happened. Dreamer was dozing on his own while Wanderer lazily swatted at Leaper who lazily tried to bite him, with Fleeting and Reaching curled up together and watching through lidded eyes.

Without warning, a furred creature darted into the den and huddled at the entrance, staring at them with wide eyes. It looked like a dog – a very sodden dog, drenched fur clinging to its thin body – but bright orange, and with slitted eyes like a dragon. It watched them warily for a minute, before apparently deciding they were less of a threat than the storm outside, shaking itself off, and lying on its paws.

Leaper glanced at his dam, then crept towards their visitor, low and curious. The dog-thing shuffled, its own movements quick and flighty, seemingly about to flee, but then stood and hesitantly approached Leaper. They exchanged scents, the dog-thing shaking its head before going in for more snuffles. "Gentle with it," Dreamer rumbled from where he lay, and they both turned to look at him. "Not has scales like us, not want to hurt it." Agreement, Leaper chuffed, reaching out to paw at it.

Wrrr, if one of them was going to get hurt, it wasn't going to be Leaper. Dreamer let himself doze off again, and when he next roused some time later, it was gone, and Leaper was fast asleep by the wall, on his back with his paws in the air.

What time is it? Dreamer yawned and flexed where he lay, then shuffled a little to lie against Wanderer, who seemed to be lightly dozing as well. He had little sense of how long this crazy storm had been raging, but regardless, he really should get some proper sleep. He just… didn't feel like it for some reason.

Perhaps part of that was the feminine scents drifting through the den, prominent even with the strong draught blowing in from outside. Fleeting and Reaching had their backs turned, talking eagerly with each other… something about how he and Wanderer had flown in that last fight, what excellent fliers they were. That led right into an embarrassing recount of when they had been courting. Rrmm, they'd both been fairly stupid… but to be fair, there were reasons for that. Fleeting shot him a smirk over her shoulder, and he growled at her.

She turned back to Reaching to resume their conversation, Dreamer closing his eyes and trying to sleep again. Except a few words caught his ear… something about how she enjoyed his belly against her head…? Oh. She was telling Reaching about… mating. In raw, explicit, shameless detail. Wrrr, there was little chance he was going to sleep now, especially while their scents grew even stronger. He was learning a few new words at least, albeit ones he wasn't ever likely to use. It was a little tempting to go over there and do something about it, but that would require moving, and he didn't want to interrupt them.

He was just beginning to doze off again when Fleeting groaned frustration, and a startled yelp brought him back to alertness a moment later… though it took a few more moments to process Fleeting leaning over Reaching's shoulders to hold them down, Reaching straining to arch her body with how her tail was in Fleeting's teeth, pulled up and over her back to force her hindquarters into the air.

An old but familiar process jolted into life in Dreamer's head. He should have noticed all the obvious signs months ago, but he was apparently still dense around females; one night, he might pay enough attention to experience this without needing to be startled into it.

Although, knowing what was happening this time, it was interesting to 'watch' it work. Especially as he had spent a lot of time with her, so their compatibility was a given; Grimmel had hurt and abused her, but that was long ago, and he felt he could trust her now. Really, they were already behaving a lot like mates, and he already cared for her much. He also felt… a bit more kindred with her than Fleeting, now he was thinking about it. Not that he didn't enjoy Fleeting's style of affection, just as Reaching was already panting in anticipation for being held in that compromising pose. Fleeting just didn't quite understand or care for much subtlety or tenderness; case in point.

His thoughts were forced to consider what she wanted. Reaching stared back at him with a wide eye, only startled, not fighting or struggling other than her hindlegs straining to contort herself with Fleeting still pulling on her tail. She had been working towards this for a while, he now realised, though he suspected Fleeting had noticed and decided to skip past much of her planning.

And lastly, it established those he considered his existing mates, and whether they were willing. Fleeting was… clearly on board. He looked to Wanderer, who stared back at him tensely with narrow eyes. They seemed to be waiting on each other… which meant neither of them had any problems with it themselves.

Dreamer lurched to his paws, not willing to be beaten to it a second time. Perhaps now was not the right moment for this… but it felt good and right, and there was nothing else to do with the storm keeping them grounded. They had every reason to stop and enjoy themselves for a little while…

The furious storm carried on for nights, though exactly how long was difficult to say. All Wanderer knew, as he stared at the water rushing down the hill and pooling around the carcass of the prey he and Reaching had painstakingly hunted, was that it was finally abating; he could actually see the carcass now. He lapped at the trickle over the mouth of the den, all he needed for the moment. The prey had been a huge meal, a very fortunate find, and he still felt sated, not having been very active since then.

Not very active for the most part. He glanced down at Reaching with a quiet purr, wrapped around him where he sat on his haunches, tail tucked around his flank and snout wedged between his paws. She probably had plans for when she woke, but her slow, even breathing suggested that might be a little while yet; he was in no hurry.

Mating with Fleeting was… something of a fight, wrestling and struggling with each other to get what they both wanted, heated and invigorating. He of course didn't want two of the same mate, but Reaching was very different to what he expected of a female. Mating with her was… calm, almost relaxing. He expected it appealed more to Dreamer than himself, but the slow, tender passion she seemed to prefer was greatly appreciated with all the stress going on at the moment, while they couldn't afford to wear themselves out; at least, beyond Fleeting getting jealous and pouncing him.

Especially now that the storm was easing off. He could even see the faint glow of the sky-fire, dimly illuminating the land through the haze of the rain, and while the wind was still too violent to fly in, it was no longer tearing trees from the ground. They had been delayed, but also given time to rest and recover. Still, they would need to leave as soon as they could; the ones hunting them were undoubtedly watching the sky just as fervently.

Everyone else was sleeping, so there wasn't much to do other than watch for danger, vacantly staring at the wind blowing through the rain. He hadn't got a good look at the area they'd landed in, though from hunting he knew there were hills and at least one forest nearby. It didn't really matter, there was no lack of water and they would be flying before they needed to eat again; that really had been a lucky catch, following the frightened sounds of the prey-pack.

Movement caught his eye, a dark shape shifting in the downpour, and he tensed. Enquiry, Reaching warbled, lifting her head to drowsily stare outside, but there was no movement now… The rain came and went in waves, obscuring details and playing tricks on his eyes, but now that he was thinking about it… Flying would still be difficult and dangerous. Walking would not be.

He became certain as a vague shadow approached the prey-carcass, dropping down what seemed to be another hill opposite it and slinking around the edge of the pool it was submerged in. Danger, he growled quietly, and Reaching scrambled to her paws to peer outside, Dreamer and Fleeting appearing beside them a moment later. "We need leave," Wanderer said tensely, casting a wary eye at the sky.

"Get Leaper," Dreamer growled, nudging Fleeting with his shoulder. "Run. We will fight, catch up. Fly when you can." Wanderer growled to himself as she leapt back inside. He and Dreamer could not fight the whole pack… but they could punish it for spreading out to look for them.

Fleeting appeared beside him again, a bleary but frightened Leaper huddling behind her. Wanderer slinked outside, turning his head away from the rain and looking around as he climbed up the hill they had dug into; it was a bit bigger than he'd thought. From the top, he couldn't see any danger, so he ushered Fleeting, Leaper, and Reaching past, briefly keeping watch for threats as they ran; they were headed away from the storm, so should be able to fly well before they tired.

He and Dreamer would be along shortly anyway, and he turned to slink around the Death-Gripper wading into the pool of water towards the carcass, moving slowly so as to not alert its prey. Dreamer was already moving around the other way, his dark scales blending into the gloom but not completely hiding him. Wanderer did his best to get closer, but it could call for its pack at any moment – Dreamer leapt, and Wanderer leapt too, briefly riding a gust of wind to cross the distance. Dreamer hit it first, landing on its neck and shoving its head underwater, but not before it got out a short bark of alarm. Wanderer was on its tail before it could use it, helping keep it pinned while it bucked and thrashed in the water.

Alarm, retreat, Dreamer barked, and they leapt clear a moment later, hastily heaving through the water before the Death-Gripper could retaliate. Dreamer didn't stop, running up the hill towards the others, so Wanderer followed, assuming either it'd been grounded or was just too dangerous to keep attacking. If the other hunters weren't already alerted, they certainly were now, with how loudly it was shrieking.

Wanderer loped after Dreamer, leaping over rivers running between the little hills and skirting around a large lake that had formed. The wind was now mostly behind them and from the side, but inconsistent, coming in strong gusts from multiple directions. The light of the sky-fire seemed stronger ahead, where the wind would still be strong but hopefully not so violent, far but within running distance. Wanderer bared his teeth, focusing on keeping a fast but efficient gait, mindful of where his paws splashed through the grass, and keeping a feel for the wind, eager to take flight.

Finally, as he began to tire of running, he deemed the wind to be safe enough and leapt into it, spreading his wings – he nearly nosedived straight back into the ground as it grabbed him, but managed to ride it instead and hurtled past Dreamer. It took all of his focus to react to the gusts trying to throw him around, but it was much faster than running, particularly with it blowing him forwards more often than not. And it only got easier as they put distance to the storm.

The rain stopped abruptly, no longer drumming on his wings and back. He flapped and gave himself a bit of a shake, feeling a lot lighter, then barked loudly and listened for the response. It came quickly, a distance to the south, and he and Dreamer angled towards it to catch up with the rest of their family. Then Dreamer barked through his fire, head pointed back towards the haze they had emerged from. Faint airborne shapes echoed back to them, Death-Grippers scattered from their search, all picking up the pursuit; their hard carapaces made good echoes, even through the rain. It was tempting to turn back and kill a pawful more before the others could catch up…

But the glow of the sky-fire through the clouds said it wasn't even noon yet, and its bright light glittered off the wet land in the distance; the storm had given them time to rest, but it had thrown them out into the light, where they were most vulnerable. Dreamer had to have realised too, by the scowl he wore.

They banked around to fall into formation with Fleeting, Reaching, and Leaper, Dreamer taking the lead to break the turbulent wind for them. Wanderer glanced worriedly across to Leaper, who was clearly struggling, overworking his wings to keep on course and at speed… but hopefully the wind wouldn't last too long.

The bigger issue was how long they'd need to fly with the hunters right on their tail. They had a solid lead, and their pursuers were scattered… but the land beneath them was flat and offered little cover, most of it flooded with gusts of wind blowing across the water, for as far as could be seen.

Grrr, they could do this. And if these hunters followed all the way to the Lightstriker nest, they would be torn and blasted to pieces before the next light dawned.

The storm had brought fortune and misfortune both.

Dreamer stared at the Death-Grippers, distant specks in the sky, from over the crumbled hillside they had rested against for the night. The night, as they had flown through over half the previous light, and Leaper had needed to set down. Just like the light before that. And just like last light, the land was being searched for where they were resting, the occasional Death-Gripper descending to check somewhere before eventually flying up to rejoin the flock.

The storm had allowed them necessary rest, even forced it. Also, a chance to properly bring Reaching into their family, bringing them together into a more cohesive whole. But the skies had cleared at entirely the wrong time, allowing the Death-Grippers to search them out in the morning.

Was the storm for better or worse? He couldn't tell. They'd sorely needed the rest – this would have been a gruelling flight to undertake, as tired as they had been – but while they were now able to rest through most of the night and most of the next morning, there once again seemed to be no escape from Grimmel's hunt.

It was so frustrating, if they could just find some way to stall the hunt until dusk, they could disappear into the night. But Leaper was not yet capable of flying so hard for so long, lacking the endurance and strength he would begin to develop as a fireling; really, the distance he made each day was impressive for a fledgling. So they continued flying after night fell, as far as they felt they could, before stopping to rest until they were forced back into the air some time into the following light. Two of them hunted, the other two kept watch the next light, while Leaper got all the rest he needed.

The chilling routine showed no sign of abating. But while the Death-Grippers' endurance was better, it was not infinite, and Grimmel had to be pushing them to fly as fast as they were as well as searching through the next morning.

"We should go," Dreamer rumbled, staring bitterly at the swarm spread across the sky behind them. Eighteen – he'd had more than enough time to count – remained, their numbers significantly dented but not nearly weakened enough to take on during the light. They needed to fly and get moving before the pursuit was above them, at which point it would be far too late. But too early, and they would be flying for too long. Perhaps if they left early enough they could sneak away without being noticed… but that was one of many gambles that could easily end in blood, in this case if they were noticed and only gave Grimmel more time to chase them. No, their best option was to play it safe and steady.

He turned and rubbed against Reaching as she stretched, relishing the contact; he couldn't wait for this nightmare to end, to see what two energetic females could bring to his life… She purred and affectionately nuzzled his flank as he passed her, then took her place in the middle of the formation, beside Wanderer. Fleeting and Leaper stood at the back, looking unenthused for another long flight, but also rested and unconcerned.

Dreamer, in the lead of the formation, chuffed and bounded into the air, flapping hard to quickly pick up speed; the faster they got moving, the more of a lead they would keep. Only when they were speeding across the land did he lead them up, where the winds were more consistent and easier to slip through, and glanced back once they were at altitude. Somehow, Grimmel was always quick to pick up the chase when they ascended, and the flock had already converged into an efficient flying formation, the flying frame in the middle glinting in the light of the sky-fire.

And so began another light of monotonous flying. Dreamer was the one to set their pace, but he had a good idea of Leaper's limits now, so he didn't need to focus too much on it. Instead, he let his gaze wander over the land below in between occasionally checking on their pursuit, mind picking over ideas on how to handle this more safely… but everything was a gamble. Whatever they did basically boiled down to hiding and hoping they weren't found, because if they were, they'd have a flock of Death-Grippers in the sky above them ready to swoop down; there would be no escape, no fallback plan.

As the morning transitioned to afternoon, the sky-fire reaching its zenith and beginning the descent back to the horizon, Dreamer churred thoughtfully to himself. He recognised this area… and there was little question as to why. They were about a light's flight from their territory.

So much had happened that he'd almost forgotten about it; his dream lately had just been to settle anywhere without fear of being hunted. Its lush forests, cool, clear water, their comfy little den, the swarms of fish in the warming-season… He wondered how much of it was tainted now. But hopefully, anything that had been done to it could be undone; residents chased out, tunnels collapsed, structures burned. Reaching hadn't yet had the opportunity to experience the full beauty of all its seasons, which he intended on correcting as soon as he could. He could tell Wanderer and Fleeting were feeling the renewed motivation, and even Leaper looked wistfully in the direction of their range.

However, they didn't seem to be the only ones who had noticed something. Grimmel was steadily gaining on them, for some reason pushing his Death-Grippers into a brutal, unsustainable pace; they would be completely exhausted by nightfall at the rate they were going. Dreamer kept an eye on them, gradually increasing their own pace until his wings began to ache with effort.

Weary, he barked back to Wanderer, and they swiftly switched places. It didn't make sense… Why now, of all times? They were still… maybe six or seven lights' flying from the Lightstriker nest. Sure, Grimmel couldn't afford to let them get there, but this was very early for a final push. Perhaps he was just hoping to get a head-start on fleeing, finding somewhere to hide. That would be very annoying…

Dreamer was developing a strategy to counter that, one he didn't particularly like but that was possible, when a large shape faded into sight on the horizon, and his blood tingled with giddy anticipation. "Wanderer!" he barked. "That mountain we chased Fleeting in!"

Wanderer stared at him for a heartbeat before his eyes went wide, and a moment later he sharply corrected their course. It was far, but if they could reach it early enough, they could take a quick rest in the safety of the dark maze of tunnels and leave early in the night, vastly increasing the area Grimmel would need to search for them. Their rest would be short and troubled, but the important part was that Leaper recovered; he and Wanderer could tough it out for a night. And if Grimmel did decide to attack them, the tunnels were the perfect environment to engage him in, the twisting maze no obstacle to them with their sound-sight, while the Death-Grippers would be blind and bottlenecked.

As the afternoon wore on, he lost some of his confidence. Flying faster would get them there sooner, but Leaper was flagging, struggling to keep up. Wanderer was forced to slow them a little, and the pursuit steadily began to gain on them; how capable the Death-Grippers would be if they managed to catch up was another question, but best not to find out. "Just to that mountain," Dreamer called back to Leaper, though his son didn't respond, entirely focused on moving through the air. An hour, if they could just last another hour then they could end this ridiculous hunt.

They flew. The Death-Grippers grew steadily closer.

Grimmel's dragons were close enough that Dreamer could see how tired they were; there was a reason they hadn't been pushed into such a chase until now. Tired enough that it was tempting to turn on them… Leave Leaper to fly ahead with one of the females while the rest of them attacked. They would most likely even succeed… but at what cost? Fighting eighteen Death-Grippers, tired or not, was a lot of opportunities to get stabbed or slashed, especially without the cover of night.

The mountain neared. The horde of wingbeats behind them was now audible. Wanderer barked weary, and Dreamer swapped with him again. Fleeting abruptly rolled and fired a shot back over her tail, which detonated shortly ahead of the Death-Grippers and disrupted their flights. Reaching joined her, not as fluidly but five well-aimed shots blooming into life behind them, and Wanderer and Dreamer added a couple of their own shots, though they saved some in case they needed to fight later.

They had bought the time they needed. Dreamer put some distance to them before diving, and they picked up speed, rapidly approaching the mountain.

Before he knew it, he was flaring his wings afore one of the many wide caves dotting the mountain, and they converged to land inside. Each of them heavily touched down with a thump, thump, thump, thump-

CRACK

Dreamer whirled, skidding to a halt, staring over the backs of Wanderer, Fleeting, and Reaching, who had all done the same. Leaper, who was clinging to the edge, met his gaze with wide, frightened eyes, silhouetted by the light outside along with the Death-Grippers moments from being upon them. "S…ire…?" he gurgled.

And then the rock crumbled, dislodging the silver shaft protruding from his chest, and his claws scraped the ground as he slipped over the edge and disappeared from sight.