(Lots of mentions of blood. Beware.)

Frute watched the dragons around him. He had thought of a plan—he wasn't sure if it would work, though. He sighed. He tried to find a MudWing who didn't already seem pre-occupied, but his eyes kept on straying to the distant mud mound in one direction, and two dragonets trying to ignore each other in the opposite direction. Mallow's home and Vervain and Flora, respectively. He was already close enough to his older brother and sister that they would've noticed him by now.

Here goes nothing, Frute thought. Please say they know where Mye went…

Frute unwillingly started walking towards his sibs. No MudWing payed him much attention—if Frute had to guess, he looked like a normal RainWing. The only thing that would set them off that thought were the faint scars on his body, marking the battle that nearly killed him. He tried not to think about it.

Flora was the first to notice him. She looked at him oddly at first, like she recognized him, but then shook her head as if denying it. Frute sighed with relief, although he knew he shouldn't celebrate until he found Mye again.

"What's a RainWing doing around here?" Flora asked. Vervain seemingly perked up when he heard 'RainWing', and he looked over at Frute. His gaze was almost oppressing. Frute couldn't help but shrink back a little bit.

"I came to look for a friend." Frute explained. "I, uh, think she might have been kidnapped."

Vervain barked a laugh for a second. "Ha! Who would want to kidnap a RainWing? They're useless!" He said.

Flora looked like she wanted to object, but didn't say anything. She looked back at Frute. "What does your friend look like? I might've seen them."

"She's not much taller than me." Frute replied. "She might actually be a bit shorter. She has muted brown-and-red scales, and her wings are orange, yellow, and dark brown."

"What RainWing has three wing colors?" Vervain asked. He looked over at a nearby rabbit, and with one swift movement, he snapped it's neck. Frute winced, but tried not to show it.

"She, uh, painted them." Frute lied. "To look like a mylitta crescent butterfly's." He looked at both of his older siblings. "Have either of you seen her?"

Flora thought for a few seconds. "I did see something bright orange move around last night." She said. "And when I went to see her, Russet had left."

"Wait, you were visiting Russet this morning?" Vervain asked. He seemed angry, and Frute didn't doubt that he was. "Since when do you visit dragons you barely know?"

"Since you started sleeping in, you lazy RainWing." Flora retorted. Frute winced, once again, but this time at the insult. He didn't want to, but he had to leave the two. Usually when someone says "lazy" and "RainWing" in the same sentence to Vervain, he attacks them. Frute didn't want to see his sibs fight, but there wasn't anything he could do, either.

So Frute just sighed, and started asking around for Russet.

It must've been the same Russet that Flora had mentioned when they were one. He ran into one of her sibs quickly, who told him that she had left the night before and hasn't come back. After asking around a bit—and using some of his own logic—he found out that Russet was most likely heading towards the mountains.

Frute, at first, walked. Then to save time, he switched between flying and walking.

…

Luckily for Frute, he found Russet just as the sun set. He didn't see Mye, though. When Russet saw him, she seemed to mutter something, but it wasn't audible. Frute walked up to Russet, prepared to once again describe was Mye looked like. He opened his mouth to begin speaking, but Russet cut him off.

"So you're Frutescens?" She said.

Frute froze when he heard his name. Not only would no one know who he is—much less someone he's only seen once or twice in his whole life—but it was his full name. No one called him Frutescens. No one. The name was full of memories best left forgotten. Frute sat down in an attempt to prevent them from coming. They came, anyway…memories of bloody battles, fighting sibs, death, and war. He could only sit and watch them play.

…

Frute looked at Vervain, who's talons were dipped and stained with blood. "Go die in the war like everyone else!" Frute shouted. A dragon in the background winced at the insult, but Frute didn't care. He ran off, back to his home, but when he looked down, there was blood on his talons. When he looked behind him, he saw that he had left faint and bloody talon marks in the mud and marshes. He stood there, and cried. And he cried until no more tears would flow. And when he stopped crying, he clawed at anything around him, even scratching other dragons. Possibly even Vervain and Flora. It wouldn't hurt, though—Frute's talons had always been dull.

…

"Your mother and father are dead. Your mother was killed in a battle. Your father was killed by your aunt, when she realized you were hybrids. Don't worry, though; you four won't be killed. Not like that." It was Russet. Frute remembered how she said it. Her voice was full of pain, sorrow, grief—she must've been good friends with the hybrid troop's mother.

…

Frute stood face-to-face with a dragon. He could never remember what tribe they were from—the whole memory was blurry. He could feel the blood dripping onto the ground. He could tell he was dying. He wished it would just get done already. The pain was so horrible that Frute barely remembered it, mainly at his neck, left wing, and right foreleg. His whole body was covered in blood. As he dropped down to the ground, supposedly dead, he heard four voices shout his name. Three of them shouted "Frute". All of them were far away, and belonged to his sibs. The other one was quieter, but closer. That voice said "Frutescens". The fourth and unknown voice came up and started fighting the dragon who struck down Frute. He wanted to help, but he couldn't. He couldn't move. He was still bleeding. He was still dying. His breathing stopped for only a few seconds, but he stopped caring.