With a tired sigh, Winter hugged his cold wings against himself and moved under the shady cover of the trees to stay out of the sun. Hot and humid, he'd never liked the Rainforest's weather, even though he'd gotten better at enduring it each time he'd come down. Luckily, those visits weren't too regular, only a clawful of times each year, but that thought didn't particularly make up for the heat on his scales in the present.
He glanced up, looking through the light of the trees, hoping to see a cloudy sky. It rained very often in the Rainforest—he knew that from experience—and while he knew it would make things more humid, he also knew it would cool the outside down for just a little bit. Just for as long as he needed to be out. Unfortunately, it didn't look like any rain was imminent.
Finding a good shady spot under a very, very large tree that just about covered him with the shade from the trunk alone, he settled himself down and watched the Nightwings passing by, going about their days. A few gave him odd looks as they walked past him, but most didn't pay him a second glance. He'd been here enough times that he wasn't a complete stranger, and it had been long enough since the end of their war that other Icewings making their way south to engage in trade with them wasn't quite as rare anymore. And not just Icewings, either, but other tribes as well. He'd heard from Moonwatcher that there were a few Skywings, Sandwings, and even a Mudwing sibling group that had some sort of residence in the growing Night Village.
With that in mind, he was nowhere near as out of place as he was the first few times he'd visited here. It was odd, but it also felt good. Still, some Nightwings and Icewings still weren't over the centuries-long feud, and so it was better not to call attention to himself anyway.
He closed his eyes and gave a sigh, wondering if it would be possible to lie down and catch a short nap. He really didn't have anything better to do at the moment. All that he was doing was getting out of the way and wasting time.
Nah, he thought, looking back up. It's too hot. I'll never get to sleep, not in this midday heat. Mercifully, evening and eventually dusk would bring cooler air. It would also bring an opportunity to see just how many Nightwings decided to become more nocturnal since the last time he was here. There seemed to be more and more each year adopting that lifestyle that they used to have.
Maybe that was also why the village looked so empty now; perhaps they were all sleeping. Only a few dragons milled about, going from house to house and shop to shop, and many of them were actually Rainwings. As he watched, he saw a couple of Skywings step out of one hut and take to the sky, probably to hunt. He wondered what kind of prey they'd be going after if they were; he'd never had much luck with it himself when he came. All he could really catch were those sloths, which the Rainwings would never permit him to eat no matter how tasty they looked.
His mind wandered to what he thought the taste of sloth might be like, and he almost missed the familiar dragon that walked right by him. As it was, he had to take a double-take before he could be sure, as it had been so long. But no, it was her. He'd never forget the face of that dragoness that he'd encountered in the deepest cave in the Ice Kingdom, the one that had died a thousand deaths and was supposed to die a thousand more if it wasn't for him and his brother.
Winter shot to his feet, all thoughts of shade and sloths forgotten. "Foeslayer?" he yelled, bounding after her so fast that he was afraid that he'd trip and fall—it would have been very graceless for an Icewing, after all.
The dragoness turned to him with a look of extreme confusion and fear, so much so that for an instant Winter thought he'd somehow mistaken her. But then he got a good look at her face and knew that he hadn't.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, then widened in recognition. "You!" she exclaimed, then lashed her tail and gave a non-threatening kind of growl, "Well, I wasn't expecting to bump into you today, although I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later."
"Neither was I," he said, then paused, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. It had been a few years now since he'd last seen this dragon, and not exactly in the best of circumstances. In fact, he hardly even knew who she was, even though what had happened had entwined them, in a way. "It's…it's good to see you," he finally said, shifting nervously on his feet.
The large Nightwing gave a small snort, although after a moment he saw the edges of her mouth twitch up just a little. "I suppose I can say the same," was her response, "The name's Hope now, by the way," her eyes shifted around her, as though making sure no one was listening or had heard, "It's best you don't call me by my old one. I'm sure you understand."
"Oh…right," Winter mentally chastised himself. He'd heard about the name change from Moon, but all the same actually seeing Foeslayer again had erased that from his mind in the moment. Of course, not actually seeing her hadn't exactly helped engrave that notion in his head. To him, she was Foeslayer.
"So…" he began, still feeling a little uncomfortable under her gaze, "How have you been doing?"
She blinked, and then seemed to relax a little. "Fine, I suppose. You?"
"The same."
A palpable silence fell, and Winter shifted uncomfortably, trying to figure out what to say. He wasn't exactly prepared for this conversation.
"Are you still living in Sanctuary?" the Nightwing questioned, mercifully breaking that silence.
Winter cocked his head in a little surprise. "How did you know I…"
"I'm friends with Secretkeeper," Foeslayer said before he could finish the question, "I hear about you from her."
"Ah," he said in understanding, "I guess I'm more or less the same way with hearing about you, except my informant is Moon instead of her mother."
Foeslayer shrugged her wings. "And she probably hears from Secretkeeper, anyway. I hardly ever see her myself except for when you visit."
"Yeah…" he trailed off, once again not sure what else to say. What else could he say?
"You could have visited yourself, too, you know," Foeslayer spoke after a few moments' pause, "I think I would have liked that. After all, seldom has a dragon done what you did for me. You could have easily killed me again and left me forever in that cold Icewing cave, yet you gave me this second chance I have now."
"I know…but…" Winter sighed, "With Peacemaker and all that happened…it never felt right. I was afraid if I saw you, or him, that I might not be able to control myself. It's taken me a few years to really calm down from what happened, you know. And it still makes my cold blood boil at times."
"I know," Foeslayer said softly, taking a deep breath, "It…wasn't easy on my side either. Having to deal with him like that, always worrying that mistakes would be repeated, that he'd turn out the same way again. Yet at the same time, knowing that this really wasn't my son, not really. Darkstalker is gone; Peacemaker is not the same dragon."
"Are you sure?" Winter couldn't help but ask. He didn't mean it as a challenge, he just…he needed to know.
The Nighwing nodded. "There are a few times where he'll say something like Darkstalker would, or he'd act just a little bit like he would, and I'd think 'it's him', but never would it last. I think…honestly, I think it's because I wanted to see him. As awful as it sounds, I wanted to see some part of my son survive."
Winter glanced down as she spoke those words. He could hear some of the hurt in them, in her voice. And while it was true that he was glad the animus was gone, he could understand what Foeslayer said. It couldn't have been easy losing a son, no matter how horrible that son was. He hoped he'd never have to experience the feeling.
"Is he here?" Winter asked her. If he was, it was probably best for him not to stick around too long. He still didn't know how he'd react around the hybrid.
She shook her head. "No. He's off at Jade Mountain."
"That's right," Winter remembered, relaxing a bit, "I heard Moon mention that he was going to attend."
"Mmm-hmm," Foeslayer confirmed, regaining herself a little as well, "I have to take care of his strawberry garden while he's gone. Of course, he took a few plants with him when he went. I'm sure Jade Mountain is going to have its own strawberry patch before long."
"Yeah, I'm sure it will." Winter couldn't help but feel a little sting at that thought. Peacemaker got to go through JMA, an experience he himself never got to fully complete. It felt wrong, in a way, for the dragon who had caused so much hurt to have such an opportunity, even if it wasn't him, not really. Still…
"And how's Moonwatcher doing," Foeslayer asked him, mercifully taking his thoughts away from that dragon, "I mean, I'm sure I'll hear from Secretkeeper eventually, but since you're here I figured I'd ask."
"She's doing fine," he answered with a nod, "She's here now, of course, talking with her mother. That's why I came out here in the first place, to give them some time alone. But yeah, back home she's started helping out and teaching at a smaller school we have in Sanctuary, actually. There's been a lot of them popping up now that the population is finally starting to grow again after the war. Soon, I doubt Jade Mountain will be very unique at all."
"And any eggs yet?" she asked, a little slyly.
Winter shook his head, suddenly a bit flustered. He hated that question, especially when Secretkeeper asked it. "No, not yet. We're…waiting, you know. I'm sure that sooner or later…"
Foeslayer laughed. "Of course, of course. Don't feel any pressure on my part. But you know, I wasn't at all surprised that you married a Nightwing."
"You weren't?"
"Nah," she shrugged her wings, "I knew there had to be a deeper reason you let me go that day. I'd seen two friends or siblings do that whole 'You kill me!' 'No! You kill me!' routine before, and while you're not the first ones to attempt tricking the system in the way you did, none of them decided to let me go as part of the deal. I knew there had to be something different about you that caused you to take pity on me, a Nightwing, like that."
"And so you just assumed it was romance?" he asked, raising an eye ridge.
"I wasn't sure," she admitted, "But as I said, I wasn't surprised to learn that was the case. I suppose we're kind of alike you and I, Winter. We both fell for the enemy, as it were."
Winter glanced down at his talons. "She was never my enemy."
"But you thought she was," Foeslayer spoke, "Regardless, it all turned out okay in the end, it seems. For you at least…" there was that same kind of sadness in her voice again, "I pray to the moons every night that your marriage won't turn out like mine did, you know. I really do."
Winter nodded and took a deep breath. "I do too. Not to the moons, of course, but…I do love her, Foeslayer. I don't want history to repeat itself at all. Not to me and Moonwatcher."
"Good," Foeslayer told him, "That's a start, at least. I loved Arctic to the end, you know, and I know he loved me to. But remember, there's more to love than just love itself. Do not make the mistake of thinking that it alone can carry you through. If I had the chance to do it over again…I know that there's a lot I'd do differently for him."
"I'd give all three moons for her," Winter declared.
"Then if the time comes, do it," Foeslayer charged him, "Perhaps if I did the same for Arctic like he did for me once, things would have been different…" she shook her head, "…but it's no use living in the past. The past is past, and I cannot change it now," she shook her head again, then looked around, "Here, you look hot in this heat, and out in the open like this might not be the best place to talk more. I was just heading home; if you'd like, we can continue this conversation inside."
Winter debated for only a moment, then gave a small smile. "You know what, I'd like that."
From the outside, Foeslayer's hut was rather unremarkable in the Rainforest, just another one of the many mass-constructed homes created to house the other tribe that showed up almost out of the blue needing a new home. On the inside, however, it was more than a little different than any others he'd seen. Not that he'd been in the homes of too many other Nightwings to compare, but he could definitely tell that the place was abnormal.
The first thing that hit him was just how cool it was. Which felt amazing, but didn't really fit with what he knew about Nightwings. When he stayed in Secretkeeper's guest room with Moon, for instance, the heat was normally only a little less harsh than outside. It took him a few moments to realize that Foeslayer probably got used to living in colder weather due to living with an Icewing (not too unlike Moon was now), although he wasn't completely sure how she kept it colder. He'd have to ask if the opportunity arose…
But aside from the temperature, several other things caught his attention. For one thing, the whole room looked…old. The décor looked almost ancient, vases and paintings that appeared as though they'd been done decades if not centuries ago. And some of it even looked Icewing instead of Nightwing.
It probably reminds her of how she used to live, Winter thought to himself, although he couldn't be sure. It would have been difficult, he was sure, for some of the stuff to survive two thousand years. Maybe she just likes antiques?
"Would you like a drink?" Foeslayer offered as he looked around, "You look like you could use some water."
He said that he could, and she disappeared into another room for a moment before returning with two glasses, giving him one and keeping the other. The drink felt almost as refreshing as the room's temperature as it hit his tongue.
"So…how's your brother doing?" Foeslayer asked him as they sat down at a table in the main living room, "I've wondered about him, since I don't really have a way to hear about him like I do you."
"Hailstorm is doing good, last I heard," he answered, "We try to stay in touch, but it gets hard sometimes, with the distance and all. Anyway, he's been maintaining his high ranking. By the look of things, he'll probably be made a general in the Icewing army in the next year or so. He's young, but his skill and royal birth have made up for it."
"It's good to hear he's doing good with his second chance too, then," Foeslayer observed, "Although I hope he never has to show off his military prowess on any battlefield. I've lived most of life in a time of war, and I'd prefer it if this current peace was maintained."
"I agree," Winter said, raising his glass up in his claw, "Especially between our two tribes."
"And it seems for the first time since I was first frozen, peace may actually exist," Foeslayer observed, "After what your friend did…what was his name again? Kiddy? Quibby?"
"Qibli?" Winter asked.
"Yes, Qibli!" Foeslayer exclaimed, "Anyway, whatever spell he and that other animus cast seems to have really changed things. There's still some tension from some Nightwings about Icewings, but there's no real fight in them. They seem…hopeful."
"You know, I am too," Winter told her, "I don't expect that all Icewings and Nightwings will come together like Moon and I have, or like you and Arctic did back then, but I think that given time it can finally start to heal. After two millennia of pain and death, it definitely needs to start."
Foeslayer gave a small smile as she looked at him. "Were but more Icewings, or dragons in general, more like you, Winter," she said, shifting slightly where she sat, "I think Pyrrhia might be better for it."
He glanced down and gave a shake of his head. While he appreciated that unexpected compliment from her, he wasn't sure if he really deserved it. "I don't know. I had to go through a lot to get where I am now," he said, "And I had a lot of help, too."
"We had a saying back in the Old Night Kingdom," Foeslayer said, and he raised his eyes back up to meet hers, "The strongest steel is tempered by the hottest fires. I knew when I first met you that you'd already been through many fires, and I think you've come out stronger because of it."
Winter couldn't help but give a small snort. "Really?" he asked, "I mean, you hardly know me. How can you say that?"
"Because we're both sitting here right now," Foeslayer answered him without hesitation, "And that says a lot."
There was such certainty in her eyes in that moment. A look of understanding, and one of kinship. Foeslayer had been through more than her share of fires before, and she could recognize another one who had. And there was a kind of acceptance in it too, of affirmation, a feeling that she cared.
It was a look he had always wanted to receive from his own mother. But one he never did.
"Maybe you're right," he said, finally looking away again.
"Of course I am," Foeslayer told him, "And after all, as I said before, Secretkeeper tells me about you. So I do have you at an advantage in that respect."
That earned her a small laugh from him. "Yeah, I guess you do."
A small paused ensued, Winter once more not sure where to go from there. While he and the Nightwing in front of him may have been through the "hottest fires", as Foeslayer had put it, he realized that they didn't exactly know much about each other. They'd come not just from different tribes, but from different times. There really wasn't that much common ground to just talk about, to have a solid conversation like two old friends.
Then again, Winter couldn't help but think that that may be a good thing. Perhaps now would be an opportunity to learn, to build that kind of relationship. He'd already accepted this invitation into her home, into her life (so to say) when he'd been avoiding it for so long. Surely there was something he could ask about, that they could talk about, and as his eyes looked at the ancient-looking decorations in the room once more, he thought of one.
"So, what was it like getting used to a world that had forgotten you?" he asked, growing more curious even as he asked the question, "I'm sure it wasn't easy."
She snorted. "That's an understatement," she told him, "Imagine changing scales and trying to integrate yourself into the Mudwing tribe. That's what it felt like; trying to fit into a completely different lifestyle. Yeah, they might be Nightwings, but after two thousand years almost nothing about them was like I remembered. Our entire culture and way of life was pretty much erased by their time on that island, and now we're all living under a Rainwing queen. Walking back into this world was like waking into a dream; everything felt familiar, but nothing was right."
"What was most difficult, then?" Winter inquired, genuinely interested now that he was hearing it.
"Where to start?" she scoffed, "Probably the biggest thing was that none of them slept during the day and were active at night, like our very name—Nightwings—suggests we should. They're getting better at that, as I'm sure you've seen, but still…" she trailed off and shook her head, "Then the whole 'no powers' thing, which I can kind of understand why it happened since they were foolish enough to make their home underneath an active volcano, but at the same time, in my day it was well known that the moons impacted future seeing and mindreading. How could they have just forgotten? It was one of the most important aspects to our tribe as a whole, and they all just move to a place where the moons don't even shine? What were those fools thinking?" She lashed her tail and sighed, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to rant. It just frustrating thinking about how foolish my own tribe must have been."
"No, no, by all means, go ahead," Winter told her, "I didn't know that you knew the moons were the cause of things back then."
She shook her head and gave a low hiss of frustration. "Well, we did. And they should have known better. But there's nothing I can do about it now. Anyway, there's their hunting style, too, which is another thing that has mercifully been going back to how it used to be now that they're in the rainforest."
Winter nodded. "Moon told me about how they used to bite their prey, wait a few days until it got infected and half-dead, then eat it. It never made any sense to me, personally. Like, if you catch your prey and bite it, why not just eat it? What benefit could letting it rot while its still living provide?"
"None," Foeslayer said matter-of-factly, "And I promise you we never did that back before the volcano. We caught prey; we ate prey. Whatever Nightwing tried to convince the others that any other way was better should have been laughed out of the tribe, but somehow there are still dragons who insist on doing it even here in the Rainforest."
Winter shrugged his wings. "Some habits are hard to break, I imagine."
"They must be," Foeslayer shook her head, and Winter wondered if there was any particular reason this one upset her, "But anyway, there were a lot of smaller things that needed some getting used to," she went on, "Little quirks in overall behavior, actions and body language, stuff that had meanings that had changed with time. Words and phrases that had been added or lost through the years. Festivals and rituals that had been such an important part of life before that were just completely lost to time, or replaced with new ones with different meanings. I spent long hours sitting down with Secretkeeper or Truthseeker and just going over those little cultural differences that I didn't know of before."
"Truthseeker?" Winter asked, cocking his head, "I'm not sure I know who that is…"
"She's a friend," came Foeslayer's answer, "Oddly enough, she actually got caught in a similar situation as Moon, being raised a bit…abnormally, and apart from the other Nightwings. You'll have to meet her and hear her story yourself sometime, but the point is that we did a lot of the whole 'cultural learning' stuff together with Secretkeeper's help."
"Because Moon had you learn from her mother?"
"Yep," Foeslayer nodded, "Moon said that her namesake would hold true, and so far, it has. As far as I know, Secretkeeper is the only one aside from you and your friends that knows that my real name isn't Hope."
"That's good, then," Winter said, "But…have you ever wondered what it would be like if the other Nightwings knew?"
She shrugged her wings. "I mean, I guess I have. But I've worked hard to try and create a new life, undefined by my old one. I don't want to throw all that away. Besides, I doubt many would actually believe me. After all, you can't really prove that you're two thousand years old. Likely, they'd just think I was crazy."
"I mean," she went on, "I have friends now. And a new kind of family. It may not be how I always envisioned it, but I'm content with my new life here. I don't want that all to be ruined by something that doesn't matter anymore." She shook her head, and then looked at him thoughtfully. "What about you?"
"Me?"
"I've heard that you were thrown into a similar situation after what happened with…well, you know. How are you holding up with your new life?"
Winter tapped his tail on the ground. "It…took some getting used to. Although I doubt as much as yours. Luckily I spent a bit of time at Jade Mountain and got a bit of experience with the other tribes before living in a town full of every tribe in Pyrrhia. And Moonwatcher helped. A lot," he gave a soft chuckle, "I have no idea what I'd have done without her."
The ends of Foeslayer's mouth turned up as she looked at him. "I hear you're working with scavengers," she said, "How's that going?"
"It's going pretty well," came his response, "I've only had my sanctuary up and running for a few months, now, so I'm still rather limited in what I've done. It took forever to get everything ready, you know, plus the time put in helping build the town of Sanctuary itself. But yeah…it's really interesting to see how they live and act. Honestly, I'm starting to think that they're some of the smartest animals in Pyrrhia. Maybe even rivaling wolves and hawks."
"Really?" Foeslayer asked, a bit surprised, "I wouldn't have thought it."
"Yeah, they are," Winter insisted, "They seem to have a rather complex communication system, complete with some primitive symbols. And their ability to work together rivals that of insect colonies while remaining rather independent. They even use some basic tools. I used to think it was ridiculous that one of them could kill Queen Oasis, but I'm not so doubtful anymore."
"Huh," Foeslayer still looked a little skeptical, "They never seemed like any sort of threat back in the old days. I always thought them to be rather dumb and pitiful, as far as animals go."
"So did I, at first," Winter shrugged, "But I guess we were wrong about them."
"Perhaps we were," Foeslayer tilted her head in thought, "You know, I'd like to read some of your research, once you start publishing it."
Winter's eyes widened a little bit in surprise. "I…sure! My plan is to send reports to each of my main funders—mainly the queens, but a few private ones—but I can send an extra copy of my papers and stuff here when I send updates to Queen Glory. Actually, I brought one of my first ones to show her while we're here. But…are you sure you're really that interested." He couldn't help but feel that she was just humoring him with her interest.
"Of course I am," Foeslayer told him, "I think it's rather interesting, and I'd like to see what you're up to."
"Well, then I'll send them to you," Winter couldn't keep the sudden grin off his face, "I just hope I'll give you an interesting read."
"I'm sure you will."
Foeslayer's voice sounded more certain than he could have made his, and Winter couldn't help but feel…good. Not that he was starved for affirmation, as his mate gave him plenty whenever he felt down or doubtful, but this just felt different. The way that Foeslayer seemed to be supporting him, without any prompting or asking for any favor in return, seeming genuinely interested…it was something that he'd always missed in his life. He'd never really had an older dragon treat him that way, to make any effort to be interested in what he did. He never really had a dragon to fill that role of a parent, of a father or a mothe—
He shook his head at that sudden notion, but as he looked at Foeslayer, he couldn't help but keep that grin on his face that she returned with a soft smile.
"So," she asked, "Do you do anything else interesting in Sanctuary?"
"Hmm…not too much," he admitted, "Aside from work, a lot of my recreation is taking flights with Moon or visiting some of the Talons that I became friendly with. They're building a skyball court on the other side of town, too, and Moon and I think we may give that a try once it's done. I was never that good at it, though."
"That sounds fun."
"Yeah, it should be," Winter tapped a talon on the ground, "What about you? What do you do for fun now that Darkst—" he paused, "…Now that Peacemaker is off at school?"
She ignored his little slip up, which he appreciated. "Oh, I try to keep myself busy," she told him, "I spend a lot of time each day practicing my fighting and making sure I stay fit. Some of these Nightwings have been letting themselves go a bit now that they've got plenty of food, I'm not sure if you've noticed, and I don't intend to do the same."
"Yeah," Winter chucked, "I had noticed that…" With no threat of war or imminent death, a noticeable number of Nightwings had clearly become a bit more sedentary, taking after their Rainwing tribemates (if that was the right word; even now no one was quite sure if the Nightwings should be considered their own tribe while being under the rule of a Rainwing queen). It was actually a bit humorous, considering what he'd heard about them being so thin and starving back in the volcano. And with that in mind, he almost couldn't blame them.
"Oh, and I also practice with these," Foeslayer said, motioning towards a rack sitting behind her that he'd noticed when he entered but hadn't given much thought to. It contained several very thin cylinders setting upright, and the closer he looked the more familiar they seemed.
"Are those…spears?" Winter asked, narrowing his eyes at them, trying to figure out if he was right. They didn't quite look like them; they looked shorter, for one thing, and a bit thinner around. The long handle was there, though, and the sharp point on top was obvious.
"Well, I guess they technically are," Foeslayer said, "But no. These are javelins."
"Javelins?" Winter asked, now looking at them even more curiously, "I've heard of those. Can't say that I've seen them up close before."
"I'm not surprised," she responded, pulling one off the rack and setting it on the table so he could get a closer look, "They apparently fell out of favor in between when I was frozen and now. But they were one of the most popular weapons back when I was a dragonet."
"Interesting," Winter reached for it, "May I…?"
"Go ahead," Foeslayer told him, and he picked it up. It felt rather light in his claw. "I couldn't find any useable ones in the Night Kingdom, or even the Sand Kingdom," she continued, "I had to find a smith to make these custom for me."
Winter waved it around a bit, admiring the workmanship as the light glinted off the tip. This one looked fairly new, only a few scratches on it. He had to give his compliments to whoever had made it for her; the steel construction looked excellent. However…
"I guess I can see why they fell out of style," he said, giving it back to her, "Current spears are longer and heavier, able to take out a dragon from father away. If you used one of these against one of our Icewing spears, you'd get skewered before your own tip got even close."
"No, I don't think I would, and that's the point," Foeslayer responded, a sly look on her face, "You see, that's the whole point of it being so light. It's meant to be a ranged weapon."
"Ranged?" Winter asked, doing another double-take at the javelin, "So, you're meant to throw it from a distance? Isn't that a bit dishonorable?"
Foeslayer tilted her head back and forth, "It wasn't back in my day."
"But, wouldn't that make it more like a chakram or a crossbow?" he questioned, "Those are weapons of assassins and cowards. No respectable dragon would use something like that."
"Again," Foeslayer said, "It wasn't thought that way back then. Besides, oftentimes we threw them in volleys, so it wasn't that personal kind of attack that assassins use. It was more like how Sandwings all breath fire going into a charge, or how you Icewings generally do your frostwall in battle, where you all breath your frostbreath at once. It's ranged, yes, but not dishonorable. I'm not specifically killing any one dragon."
Winter gave a low kind of growl, eyeing the javelin up and down once more. "I guess that makes sense…" he said, although it still didn't quite feel right. Dragons were supposed to fight honorably, close together, claw to claw and teeth to teeth. Ranged weapons besides firebreath and frostbreath spat in the face of an honorable encounter. Of course, there were the siege and anti-air weapons they used, which operated on the same sort of basis Foeslayer had just described.
"Of course, it's still a matter of skill to get good at hitting a specific target," Foeslayer told him, shifting the javelin in her claws and eying the point, "We used to have competitions all the time in my unit to see who was best. It was practically a sport. We'd practice on live prey, lots of pigs and goats. Even small rabbits when we wanted a challenge. I could get a squirrel from a respectable distance, back in the day."
With a twitch of his tail, Winter gave an interested hum. He'd thrown spears before, but he'd never been able to get much accuracy on them. Of course, his spears weren't made to be thrown like this one was. He was surprised by how easy she inferred they were to handle, and he had to wonder just what "a respectable distance was".
Foeslayer spun the javelin in her claw, then offered it back to him. "Would you like to try a throw?" she asked him, "I know we just came inside, but I can teach you, if you'd like."
He blinked once, then reached out and took it. "Yeah, I think I would."
Foeslayer led him out of her house and to the edge of the Nightwing village, her carrying the javelins in an odd sort of leather bag that fit over her shoulder and around a wing, several odd spaces in it that allowed the long javelins to rest comfortably inside, the ends of them resting just over her shoulder. She'd told him that they were specially designed for carrying them and that, like the javelins themselves, she'd had to have it custom made for her.
It was only a short distance away from the village itself, several of the huts still in sight, when Foeslayer stopped him. Ahead was a strip of barren ground between the trees that stretched quite a ways, and at several different points along the ground were a series of orange and white circles that he had to assume were targets (although he couldn't quite make out what they were made out of). She paused at a patch of well-worn patch of ground and sat herself down before pulling out a javelin and tossing it to him.
"Now," she said, "You've thrown a spear before, right?"
He nodded. "A few times. I've never done it seriously, though."
"Okay, then, hold it up," she told him, and gave a small shake of her head as he did, "No, no, not like that," she stood up and approached him taking the spear and repositioning it in his claw, so that his thumb-talon was under it and his others were over it, the gap in his claw facing his head, "There, better."
"Okay, so…this is how you hold it, then?" he asked, shifting it slightly.
"Yes, assuming you have it nice and balanced," she said, stepping aside him and gently grasping the javelin, testing its weight until she gave a satisfied nod, "Yeah, just like that."
"So…do I just throw it?"
"No!" she exclaimed with a lash of her tail, "Well, I guess you could, but you wouldn't throw it very well. No, you'll want to take a bit of a running start. Keep it at about head level, the tip angled up only a little bit, and make sure your foreclaw is on the ground when you release."
Winter took in her words, then gave a nod. "Ok, I think. You want me to…"
"Go ahead," she said, "I want to see how you do."
He glanced at the javelin, took a breath and focused on the nearest target, then rushed several steps forward. It was an odd, awkward run using only three of his four claws, and he almost tripped over them before he thrust his last claw forward and released the javelin from his grasp.
…And watched with disappointment as the thing missed the mark wildly, going way to the right and smacking into a tree.
He wilted as he heard Foeslayer laugh, but perked up at her words.
"Pretty good, pretty good," she told him with a grin, "For your first try, at least. Learning that run is difficult, and I know I slipped and fell my first time trying to throw. You got decent distance on it, even if your accuracy was a little off."
"A little?" he asked sarcastically, although he found himself smiling along with her.
"Here," she said, "I'll show you how it's done." She pulled a javelin out of her bag and took her starting stand a short distance back from the patch of ground where Winter had started at. Pulling the javelin up to eye level, she made a fluid, not-at-all-awkward looking dash forward and released it right as her foreclaw reached the bare patch of ground. The javelin gave a whistle as it flew straight through the air, landing just a couple feet short of the farthest target. Winter's eyes widened as he gauged the distance; it had to have been at least three hundred feet, probably much more. Winter's throw hadn't even made a fifth of that distance.
"Impressive," was all he could really say with a swallow. He couldn't imagine getting anywhere close to that himself.
"Yeah, it was okay," Foeslayer said nonchalantly, "I've done better," she smirked, "And by the time I'm done with you, you will too."
She tossed him another one. "Try again," she instructed him, "You'll get the hang of it. Don't forget to follow through."
Taking a deep breath, Winter did as he was told. It was a struggle again trying to do his run, and his second throw was barely distinguishable from his first, going just a little bit farther before hitting the tree behind the first one.
"Again," Foeslayer instructed, giving him a third javelin.
This time the run was a little bit easier, and the throw didn't go quite that far off course, but still was nowhere close to the target.
Foeslayer paused to give him a few pointers on how to move his claws before and after the throw before giving him another javelin.
His fourth throw showed definite improvement, this one going over and only a few feet to the right of the nearest target. And his fifth and last throw of the set (since Foeslayer had already used the sixth one) got even closer.
"Excellent," Foeslayer praised him as they gathered the javelins to have another go, "You're picking this up fast. You'll be hitting those farther targets in no time!"
"You really think so?" Winter asked her as he pulled the second spear he'd thrown out of the tree it was embedded in.
"Of course," she said, "You're a natural. I mean, you're not unfamiliar with weapons, and that itself helps a lot. Some dragons would shy away from even touching one when presented with it."
"Yeah, I guess so…" they collected the rest, and Winter went back to the end of the clearing to start again. His first throw was a short step backward, going off to the side farther than the previous two he'd thrown, but the second sailed almost directly over the target, just a few feet too far. The third had a more awkward release, and this one went a bit wild to the right, getting good distance but going into the trees.
"You're putting too much emphasis on power," Foeslayer told him as she gave him the next one, "Focus on control, and power will follow."
He nodded and did the next one a bit softer than the others. It landed short of the target, but was right in line with it. His follow up one got a bit closer but wide to the left. And his sixth one in the second set caught the very edge of the target with a loud and satisfying thwack.
"Got it!" Winter exclaimed with a wide smile, and Foeslayer bumped her wing against his as she approached.
"What'd I tell you?" she asked, "Soon you'll be hard pressed to miss."
They collected the javelins and in his next set of throws he hit it twice more, with three others coming close and only one missing the mark by a significant distance. The next set had three hits, and the one after that four. For his next round of throws he decided to try for the second closest target, and by his sixth throw he got pretty close.
With each attempt, he got a little bit better at making his running approach and release. It still felt awkward, but he felt like he was getting it. Still, it was nowhere near as easy as Foeslayer made it look when she took a turn and launched them farther and more accurate than he could ever hope to achieve…for now, anyway.
"You know, it's nice to see another dragon throw," Foeslayer said as she gave him another little adjustment, "It gets lonely practicing on my own sometimes. I mean, every now and then Secretkeeper or Truth comes and watches, but it's not the same as having a partner to practice with."
"What about Peacemaker?" Winter asked as he readied for another throw.
"He never had any interest in it," Foeslayer answered, "I tried to have him do it once, and he only made three throws before wandering off to his strawberry patch. And while a few other Nightwings expressed interest in learning, none of them have actually taken the step to start."
"Ah," he said before making his throw, this one landing just inches short of that second target. "I guess that may be for the best," he said, turning back to her, "Just in case…"
"Maybe," she shrugged her wings, "But I still would have liked the chance to teach him."
Winter paused. "Well…I'm still going to here in the Rainforest for the next few days. If you want a student, I think I would like to get better. Who knows, perhaps we can bring it back into the Nightwing culture."
Foeslayer smiled. "Maybe we can."
Winter readied for his next throw, but a faint voice caught his attention. He recognized his mates voice calling his name, and he immediately halted in his tracks.
"I think Moon wants me," he told Foeslayer, a little reluctantly, "I should probably go…"
"No, go ahead," she told him, taking the javelin as he gave it back to her, "Don't want to keep your mate waiting."
He took a step away, then paused and looked back at her. "Hey, Foeslayer," he said, intentionally using her old name, even if to him it was her true name, "I had a good time today. I'm glad we ran into each other."
"Yeah, so am I," she gave a nod to him, as she smiled, "And I look forward to practicing some more, if you're interested."
"Of course I am," he grinned, "I won't miss it."
A/N: I wrote this a while ago, exploring one my friend's ideas/headcanons where Foeslayer becomes a mother figure to Winter following the events of arc 2. While I feel like I didn't get a true feel of how that dynamic might look, I think this is a solid base for it to develop, and I really like how it turned out. I hope you all enjoyed it!
Also, even though she was only mentioned and didn't actually show up in the story, I feel like I should add that Truthseeker belongs to Aaegean.