Broken
Chapter 22: Fear
There was a time, long ago, when he would eat them. Then, not so long ago, he envied them. Now he simply watched them.
It was hard for Two Hearts to watch birds. They tended to stay away from Kin. Whether they were water birds or tree birds, they didn't share the skies willingly. This was only natural since they were usually prey.
But not to him. Not any more. When he sat still, up on a bluff overlooking the water, he would eventually see birds working their way through the wet, gusty air. If he sat long enough the water birds would become bold and slide close enough to scold him. When they did he would spit a small puff of crackling smoke to scorch a feather or two. That would usually clear the noisy ones out.
This morning there were few birds flying for the joy of it. In truth, Two Hearts had no idea if birds felt joy when they flew. They had heads smaller than flits and those tiny Kin were little more than noisy, hungry mouths. He didn't believe there were any thoughts larger than 'eat' and 'mate' in bird heads. Except, perhaps, 'fly.'
Flight had been much on his mind of late. Watching birds made the memories flare up brightly. Flying had once been as easy as breathing, as eating birds. Then when he had been trapped and couldn't fly he had wondered if death wouldn't be better. Watching birds had cooled his liver, made him envy what he used to chase and eat.
Shortly after that he was sky borne once more, but it was different. It was like being a fledgling all over again, learning how it worked with a small, warm body balanced on his shoulders.
Now flight with that small, warm body was as easy as breathing, as watching birds. And yet...
He could now fly without that body, without its constantly shifting balance and tiny, subtle clues that told him which way they were going to go. If he wanted he could chase the horizon until his wings ached or ride the updrafts the entire day without flapping once. The sky could once again be his. But it would be without the high pitched chatter or the gentle fingers touching his neck, his brow. Silence and solitude would replace the miniscule weight that had come to mean more than flight itself.
When he imagined flying alone now it felt like gray growling clouds and cold, twisting winds. Two Hearts would rather have had a mouthful of eels.
But there were tasks he needed to consider, ones that would be better served by flying alone. Knowing this, Two Hearts had asked Featherstone to wrap his body with the metal and skins that allowed him to control his dead tail. His flight mate had done as asked, leaving whispery traces of both happiness and fear behind each time he moved. The little preytooth still worried about the strength of his work, but he also suspected his rider had as little interest in spending a day alone as he did. There was no help for it. The preytooth nest needed a watcher.
That was the strongest reason for him to go ranging. His new, unnamed nest had no real protection from the threats that might appear. He had done what he could, asking others to stay alert for signs of trouble. But Two Hearts worried his requests had not gotten the results he desired. Many of the remaining Kin who lived in the preytooth nest spent their time with their bond partner or searching for food. The season of green that was on them had seen a few turn their eyes toward potential mates. It seemed likely to him that none really searched the skies for the threats of storms or scouts from rival nests. It had been even harder to explain to those Kin the need to watch for signs of sickness among the prey they all hunted, so he'd eventually given up on that.
Two Hearts also felt his wishes were only being considered because of his status as First Hunter. This was unsteady air to his wings. Watchers were normally watchers by breed - the ghostwings. Stories told that when there were no ghostwings, other Kin would act as watchers until new ghostwings joined the nest. First Hunters, however, were First Hunters by words only. Often the oldest or wisest Kin would be named so by their nest. Sometimes it was a Kin of a forceful nature, one who roused the nest in defense of its territory or resources. The First Hunter carried no burdens, enjoyed no privileges that weren't shared by all within the nest. But they were looked upon with honor and respect.
That he had been named First Hunter by the Kin that shared the preytooth nest certainly warmed his liver and gave his words the lift they needed when he asked others to carry out the duties of watcher in his stead. But it did nothing to offer true protection to the nest. It filled Two Hearts with doubts about the safety of his nest mates and his place among them.
Featherstone had changed all that. He could now offer true protection to the nest by ranging on his own, able to use his knowledge and experience to act as watcher once more.
So why did his liver feel like there was a ball of ice lodged next to it?
There were more reasons to be flying on his own than just ranging as a watcher, though that was naturally the most important. There was also his desire to know what had become of his dam, Long Eye. Had she ever returned to Fire Nest? Had any ghostwing returned? Did Fire Nest have any watchers at all?
Fire Nest had once been his responsibility. It had been his birth nest, his home to protect. Of course Kin were supposed to leave the nest eventually, to seek the air of another nest or to start a new one of their own. The Great Eel had destroyed all that. Cycle after cycle saw fledgling Kin trapped within Fire Nest, never to leave. He even wondered, briefly, if he should consider going back. Fire Nest might need both a First Hunter and a watcher, having been newly freed from that giant parasite's grip. That thought withered and died almost immediately. This was his nest now. Featherstone was here. His life was here.
Most troubling was the warning brought to him by Cloudbiter, the splitneck who claimed a nameless stonebelly had seen something so frightening it claimed all Kin must flee. That message couldn't possibly be ignored. It puzzled him badly as to how he would look into such a warning when he had no way of knowing which stonebelly had given the warning or what it had seen.
So Two Hearts sat on the cliff, weighed down by such heavy thoughts. The birds flew in wide circles around him or thrashed about in the water to hunt. The wet, cool winds teased the tips of his wings, begging him to leap into their soft embrace. Perhaps it was time to go.
A moving shadow told him of a visitor. The nearest birds wheeled away, giving the newcomer enough distance to preserve their own safety. He glanced up but could see little. The winged body had the sun almost directly behind it. In another place and time it might have signaled danger. In the preytooth nest, however, a few Kin acted with seeming disregard for others. Their only fault was youth, having joyfully left Fire Nest after the grounding of the Great Eel and before their sires and dams could fully instruct them.
As the other got closer he raised his head and roared out a brief but clear message. The Kin checked its flight, flapping hard to hover before swinging out toward the sea to adjust its angle of approach. As the light changed from hiding to exposing Two Hearts could see it was a firescale, a male by the length of the tail. A young one, judging from the amount of growth on its horns. There were only a few firescales that claimed the air of the preytooth nest, and the size of the Kin's body gave him the last scent he needed.
"Soft tailwinds" called Crush Claw, at least knowing to properly tone his greeting so as to ask permission to advance.
"Swift hunting," he answered. He not only pitched his reply to signal his willingness to accept another Kin's presence but added the deep, contented rumbling that expressed his happiness at seeing the younger male. Since being introduced by Swimmer, Two Hearts had tried to keep Crush Claw's scent in his nostrils. He shared Swimmer's concern about the firescale's bond partner, Iceblood. To his surprise, he had heard nothing unusual about the pair since. They seemed to have no problems that didn't arise between any other pairing of Kin and preytooth. Although it would keep him from beginning his ranging, he was genuinely pleased to speak to his nest mate.
As the firescale neared Two Hearts could see something clutched in his claws. It was fairly large and shed a few droplets of thick red blood into the waters below. The wind was blowing crosswise between them so he could get no other hints as to what it might be.
Crush Claw landed a bit awkwardly, his legs hampered by their burden. The firescale released it and stepped back, flaring his wings low to the ground to signal nonaggression concerning the food between them. All Kin knew that signal; dams and sires brought food to the egg nest this way, thus teaching hatchlings their first lesson in manners between Kin.
Crush Claw looked down at the prize he'd dropped, then back up. Two Hearts could see now that it was the tail of some large fish. He could also catch a whiff of its scent. It smelled to him like a deepsinger. He had been near such prey a few times and then only after one had beached and was ripe with decay. They were extremely hard to hunt, preferring the deeper waters and being far too large for air Kin to handle. Some few of the water Kin would go after them, but this was only known through stories. He knew the preytooths could hunt them from their woodfish but that doing so was dangerous to them. The size of the tail on the ground spoke of a very young deepsinger. Two Hearts was impressed.
Using the formal tones of a fledgling to an adult Kin, or any Kin seeking the advice of the First Hunter, Crush Claw spoke slowly and clearly. "I give thanks to the First Hunter and remember his deed at Fire Nest." His own scent came over that of the offering, only now detectable. He scented of doubt and fear; a considerable amount of fear, in fact. Surely he didn't expect Two Hearts to attack him?
To put the young Kin at ease Two Hearts responded with a wordless rumbling purr, the kind that came easily when Featherstone was scratching near his ear canals. "I thank you for sharing your catch. Especially one so rare." He took a moment to draw in the scent of the prey. It warmed his liver mightily. The heat of its recently ended life was still within, spilling out the heady smells of thick muscle and rich blood, faintly spiced with the hints of pain and fear that had marked its death. He clamped the fins to the ground and ripped loose a long string of meat from the spine. His first taste of deepsinger and a newly born one as well. It was a most satisfying experience.
It took a small bit of time to strip the immature bones. He allowed himself to enjoy each mouthful, letting his visitor see and scent his enjoyment. By the time he was done Crush Claw no longer broadcast any scent of doubt. But, to his dismay, he still smelled of fear. It wasn't as strong as before but it was still there, as though lodged deep within the firescale's liver.
He tried once more to ease Crush Claw's distress. He spent a moment cleaning the claws of his forepaws, his eyes firmly on the young male's face. That one would not quite meet his gaze.
"That was a very good hunt, Crush Claw. You took prey I have only touched with my eyes."
There was a slight flutter of the wide, powerful wings and a rippling dip of the long neck; signs of Crush Claw's pleasure at being praised. But still the fear remained.
"You and I are nest mates here. We share the air and the prey. I am grateful for your offering but it isn't needed between us any more. You are Kin and kin to me."
The fear diminished and the red scaled snout rose. Luminous eyes went wide. Perhaps the firescale had not expected such an intimate declaration of friendship. Finally, he spoke.
"I need the words of the First Hunter. I fear I have broken the Kin truce."
For an instant fear stabbed deep at Two Hearts' own liver. He instinctively swept his gaze over the preytooth nest, looking for signs of unrest or battle. All was as calm as it had been when he woke that morning. He considered Crush Claw's age and lack of deeper knowledge of preytooth behavior. He thought it most likely his fear of having broken the truce was a misunderstanding on his side. He turned back to the firescale.
"Tell me why you believe this."
Crush Claw's forelimbs trembled. He sank to his belly, his fear once more swarming up to fill the air between them. "I almost killed my bond partner."
Two Hearts' liver cooled considerably. Knowing what he did of Iceblood, it was possible that an incident between them could cause serious problems. Injury or maiming could imbalance the two halves of the preytooth nest. There were other winds to consider, though, and he would need to know all he could.
First he would have to help calm him. It would not do for Crush Claw to remain so fearful. He deliberately put aside his own concerns and stood, slowly moving close to his nest mate. He stretched out his neck and touched noses with the younger male. He gently lowered himself to the ground, at ease and an equal within the nest.
"Tell me," he said quietly. "Share your fears."
Crush Claw stilled himself, composing the story he needed to tell.
"This you know: Braintwist is my bond partner. He shares his catch and his woodcave with me. I share the skies with him."
"This I know," Two Hearts answered.
"Our hunts have not been easy. Braintwist knows little of Kin. I know little of preytooths."
"This I know." The whole nest knew, but he kept it from his voice and his eyes.
Crush Claw's tone changed. His story had begun. "He was teaching me a new game. At least I thought it was a game. I don't know what else to call it. It was much like 'dive and catch'."
Two Hearts knew that game well. Usually played among siblings or other nest mates, it was a simple teaching game. A stone or skull was dragged high aloft by one Kin and then dropped. Those playing would chase it down until one was named by the nest mate who'd dropped it. The named Kin would then catch the prize before it hit the ground or water and bring it aloft to drop it once more. It taught close flying, cooperative maneuvers and hunting dives.
"We were diving at wood things Braintwist had made. I didn't understand the game but I knew diving well enough. We dove closer each time." Crush Claw closed his eyes and dropped his snout. "He had a stick with him. The last time we dove at the wood things, he hit me with the stick."
Two Hearts' wings twitched and his pupils shrank to angry slits. "He hit you?"
"Right on my ear canal. It didn't hurt that much but it startled me."
His liver chilled. What could this mean? "What did you do?"
"I roared. Then I turned my head. I didn't think..." Crush Claw's wing claws, firmly planted on the ground, began to tear at the grass. He was clearly upset.
"What?"
"My horns. When I turned my head, I knocked him off with my horns. While we were still flying." The firescale opened his eyes and raised his muzzle. "I didn't mean to. I forgot he was on my neck."
Losing one's rider while airborne was something with which Two Hearts was familiar, much to his regret. He rumbled quiet encouragement for his nest mate to continue.
"He fell. And he didn't get back up, like he usually does. I thought... I thought I had killed him. I thought I had killed my bond partner." Crush Claw's neck was in the dirt now, so abject was his misery. "I didn't know what to do. I feared other preytooths would attack me if they saw me there. So I... I fled."
Two Hearts said nothing.
"I started to fly back to Fire Nest. It was the only place I could think of to go. Then I realized what I had done would destroy the Kin truce. I feared that more than anything. I came back and found Braintwist was standing where he fell."
"Was he hurt?"
"No." The younger male's eyes closed again. "But he was very angry at me. He made loud noises. He threw eels at me."
That was new, but it sounded like something Iceblood would do.
"He calmed down, but he hasn't asked to share the skies since." The firescale's eyes opened again. "I'm afraid the other preytooths will be angry, too. I didn't mean to break the Kin truce."
Two Hearts considered his nest mate's words for many heartbeats. It was troubling, yes, and for several reasons. But the words that had just passed between himself and Featherstone's sire could balance any thrown by Iceblood. Featherstone himself might be able to help keep that balance as well. He wasn't truly certain how much lift his rider's words had among his kin.
"I don't think you did break the truce. There are things happening now, things you haven't scented that will help strengthen the truce. I suspect you have done no damage."
A high warbling of relief gusted from the firescales nostrils. "Truly? I haven't damaged this nest?"
Two Hearts chirped a friendly affirmative. "Truly. You are still Kin to this nest." He considered this pairing once more. "Crush Claw, are you sure you should keep this bond? Does it feel proper to you?"
The firescale rose up, pushing his belly off the ground and looking down on the First Hunter with wide eyes. "I couldn't just... he's my bond partner. He-"
"He is Iceblood. This nest knows him. You've done well with him so far, but there is only so much a Kin should accept from a preytooth. If he hit you, hurt you-"
"I can't." The first firm, heated words that came from his liver that morning. "What if you had given up on Featherstone instead of allowing him to touch you or ride you?"
Two Hearts was unprepared for how much heat those words sparked in his liver. He pushed himself up as well and spoke without thought. "Featherstone is nothing like Iceblood! He's nothing like any preytooth in this whole nest! He would never hurt me!"
Crush Claw's neck arched back in reaction. Then his eyes shifted to gaze upon the end of his tail. His liver instantly cooled as he realized his declaration could be seen as false and foolish. Featherstone, he knew, would never hurt him. Yet he had. Two Hearts' own story was twisted and too large to swallow at once, but in comparison to Crush Claw's some parts of it were very much the same. Their riders were not, though. He had no good way to say this beyond what he'd already told the firescale. That weakness in him took away much of his lift in the matter.
For an instant his nest mate's problem was overshadowed by his own. There had always been doubts in his mind about his worthiness of being named First Hunter. Those doubts loomed large as mountains now. Too young, too different; he should have rebuffed the honor.
The two Kin stood, staring at each other. A mouthful of heartbeats passed before Two Hearts realized he needed to amend his statement. "My words were badly aimed."
"No." It was a soft chuff of sound, hard to hear. "You are right. But that is why I try with Braintwist. Maybe if I try hard enough, he can learn. I'm willing to fly the rough air if I can get to the place you are." The long, narrow head turned toward the preytooth nest. "It would be worth it."
Two Hearts had never imagined others would envy what he and Featherstone had together. There had certainly been rough air between them at the beginning. But there had been no way to know if his choices were right. There had only been the warmth in his liver as he learned what kind of preytooth Featherstone really was. To allow Iceblood to keep Crush Claw in thrall with the belief that he would become as his flight mate was not right. Try as he might he could not see a way to show the young firescale the false nature of his belief.
"I don't believe there is an end to the rough air with that one. He is too different from my rider to ever be like him, no matter how much you try to teach him."
Crush Claw regarded him with solemn eyes. "Maybe my flight will be different from yours. Maybe I will fail. I must try." He looked away, his voice dropping to a stuttering rumble. "He is the only one that would have me."
Two Hearts had no answer for that. He could only wish he had the wisdom of a true First Hunter. "Soft tailwinds."
"Swift hunting."
Crush Claw lifted and left. It was time for him to go as well.
Two Hearts wondered if any Kin had ever experienced so many complete changes within their life as he had. He doubted it. No story ever told during his fledgling days had turned on its on tail as many times as his own. Not for the first time he also wondered if his flight through life should be admired by Kin or avoided. He could not see the answer himself, not even in the middle of that flight.
Until Featherstone had given him the sticks to control his own dead tail fin, he had lived as he wanted. He had a nest to claim as his own, a way to feed (although not by his own efforts), and a companion that made flight a joy beyond imagining. He'd expected there would be rough air ahead of him. No Kin lived who hadn't flown through storms. But he had believed he knew where those storms would be and how best to deal with them.
That belief, formed shortly after the grounding of the Great Eel, was slowly being proven false. Storms arose he could never have foreseen. Some, like Crush Claw's, seemed to have no clear end. He found his thoughts sometimes disturbed by the way his life wound through the sky. It seemed as though his flight would never take him where he expected.
The sight of his new nest below him was a notable example. Two Hearts soared over the small island of the preytooth nest, working his way around its coast before heading off to range farther skies. He'd once only seen it at night; now the sight of it in full daylight was entirely familiar. He'd once been focused only on attacking the preytooth nest; now he defended it. He'd once known flight as the whole of his waking existence; now it was nearly a stranger, new yet old, stable yet untrustworthy.
While flying he had to think almost constantly. He seldom made the reversing mistakes he had when learning to use the sticks. When he wanted to bank left or right he could without accidentally doing the opposite of what he desired.
But he had to think to be certain. It kept him from being as vigilant as he might. It shortened his view of the air around him and the world below him. And it kept a tiny splinter of fear buried deep in his liver. He could make a mistake. Featherstone's work could fail. He might even be attacked by another Kin and the vulnerable skins be damaged, rendering him flightless and trapped. Or worse, crushed or drowned after a long fall.
These were the shadows that paced him as he flew in larger spirals away from his new nest. He'd always had his flight, his fire, his confidence to keep him safe and strong. Now these things were as thin as ice in the green season.
Two Hearts would not let those shadows keep him grounded. He had learned to value things that were not of himself, nor of his egg nest or even his Kin. These things needed protection and only he could provide it. He would not let the unseen storms keep him from his task.
He met Kin on his ranging. This was expected and welcomed. A healthy nest would see Kin traveling far out over the waters to do their hunting. Those Kin could relate what they saw to a watcher as he or she ranged. The sight of a ghostwing in the distance while one hunted brought warmth to one's liver and peace to one's mind. Indeed, those few Kin he met on his first ranging were most pleased to see a watcher who claimed the preytooth nest as home. It gave them a feeling of steadiness and health. The nest had no name as yet, had no watchers until this day. It had only recently seen its first breeding pairs and the building of the first few egg nests on the other side of the island, far from the preytooth's woodcaves.
Two Hearts' first ranging might have been a reasonable success had he not gone farther toward his old nest.
Thoughts of Long Eye called to him. He twisted his sticks until he was flying directly for Fire Nest. He expected he would meet some old Kin known to him who could relate the knowledge he sought. He also felt a strong desire to see Fire Nest healthy and free of the corrupting influence of the Great Eel. He'd wanted that for so long. Yet after its grounding he'd left immediately for his new home with Featherstone. It would warm his liver like sun soaked rocks to see and scent his old nest in good health, to touch noses with his dam.
Fire Nest shared one particular distinction with the preytooth nest. While they were a relatively short distance from each other, they were also a considerable distance from other nests. Fire Nest, despite its overlarge population of Kin trapped by the parasite's presence, seldom saw Kin from other nests enter its territory. The islands that surrounded it were too small or poorly formed to allow a healthy nest. The occasional intrusion of a scout from a rival nest usually meant that nest was in turmoil from poor hunting or beset by sickness. Upon seeing the state of Fire Nest such scouts had usually turned and fled, if they weren't driven off first.
It never bothered Two Hearts that his time as watcher for Fire Nest was entirely free of battle against Kin from other nests. The wrongs that had turned his nest into a trap for so long were more than enough to weigh him down. Knowing he'd grounded Kin in its defense would have been much worse.
As he neared his old nest he was surprised to see no Kin riding the air. Where were they? Had some other problem befallen them? Crush Claw had said most returned after the fight. Had there been too many for a healthy nest to support? Could they have all left to look for healthier nests? If so, why weren't there more in the preytooth nest? That seemed to him to be the next best place to establish a new home.
The tall, bare mountains with their welcoming red glow were hiding behind the mists as usual. From a distance it always looked as though an angry gray cloud had settle down on the island to claim it for its own. Still there were no Kin to welcome him. Icy claws seemed to grip his middle. What was wrong here?
He turned, keeping one wing facing the mists as he began a wide circle around Fire Nest. He carefully worked himself toward the sun down side of the island at a safe distance, though safe from what he couldn't say. He wanted to get down wind of it, to let scent tell him what it might. He longed to call out to his hidden Kin but dark thoughts made that feel unwise. Almost there.
Death.
The whole of the air turned to death. It started faintly but grew with each heartbeat. The further into the winds that coursed over Fire Nest he flew the thicker the scent became. Soon it was as if the air had claws of decay that raked at his nose and eyes. He made a sound he hadn't uttered since he was a hatchling; a pained squeal of distress. Two Hearts knew death intimately, knew its sounds and smells and sights. This was horribly worse. It was all the death he'd ever known come together to claim the air itself.
A sudden, unthinking fear pierced his liver and let panic sink deep into the wound. He needed to leave; his very life depended on it! He should never have come here. He had to get back to his nest, to Featherstone, to the familiar warmth and closeness of their woodcave.
He twisted his body, pumped his wings as if the very air was his enemy, turned for home. And promptly fell.
He'd done it backwards again. Before he could realize it and correct his mistake, his tail slid, losing its grip on the air. His hindquarters sank, altering the angle of his wings. With a second fearful shriek he felt his body become as a stone. He tumbled, his back to the distant waters below, now his belly. The wind tore at his midwings, pulled at his dead tail until the sticks he'd held firmly in his hind claws twisted loose and flapped at his knees. He roared in fright, this time calling for the only thing that could save him.
"Featherstone!"
Before his lungs had finished pushing the name from his throat he remembered. His rider was not with him. Control was lost, flight was lost and he was going to die.
NO!
An anger even sharper than the fear cut at him. He would not leave his rider! Death could not have him, no matter where it lay or how large it had grown. He was once Wind Rip, the only Kin who could make the winds cry in pain! He'd grounded the Great Eel! He would not die this day, this way!
Determination cleared his mind but did not change the truth of his danger. He was entirely out of control and the only way to get it back was to grip the sticks that were flailing uselessly against his body. For a moment he tried using his live tail fin and his wings as he would normally to stabilize his flight. It started to work, but the lack of surface on his tail made him slide nose over hinds once more. He saw the rippling surface of the ocean as he tumbled, far closer than was safe for such maneuvers.
But it was as he was flipped over on his back that his answer came to him. For one precious heartbeat the strands to which his sticks were connected were being blown in the direction he needed to grab them again. The memory of the last moments of struggle against the Great Eel burst across his mind.
Two Hearts tried once more to straighten out as he normally would have. Once more it failed and once more he tumbled. This time he curled his wings around his body, thrusting them toward the sky. As before, he fell upside down, his back to the rapidly approaching ocean. Instead of an enormous Kin descending on him with pure hatred in its eyes, there were only a few wispy clouds. He looked down the length of his body.
Fluttering like leaves in a storm, his sticks were almost exactly where he needed them to be to grasp them once again. Catching them proved nearly impossible, though. They moved so fast he kept missing them. They almost seemed to be trying to avoid his grasp. He spread his claws as much as he could, bent his knees, twisted his rear paws; anything to get the sticks within his reach.
He felt one slap across the pad of his left hind. He tried to catch it but missed. The one on his right did the same. This time he caught it perfectly. The left hit again but so quickly he couldn't even attempt to snag it. It battered his ankle, his knee. He blindly twitched his left paw, closing his claws as quick as he could.
He had it!
Two Hearts thrashed, trying to twist his body as he had once before. One wing was pressed against his chest by the wind, the other trailed uselessly behind him. He swung his forelegs repeatedly, trying to force himself aright. He twisted his head, his tail, flared his midwings. He saw the ocean. It was right there.
When his curled wing finally slid around and caught the winds it felt like it might come loose from his body altogether. He saw the tops of waves, the shadow of a fish and his own scattered reflection. He was certain he would hit the water.
He did, but it was at a speed and angle that allowed him to pump his wings and win free of its surface. His chest sliced through two waves, his forelegs slapping hard at their tops. Drowning was still possible if he didn't stay aloft.
He worked his wings desperately, his hind claws frozen in position to assure he made no further mistakes. Each stroke was a breath closer to survival. The one wing ached but he ignored it. He growled at the clouds, telling them he was joining them. Up and up, away from the cold nest of fish.
As he climbed he became more convinced he would live to return home. At last, with the rolling waters far below and Fire Nest well behind him, he allowed himself to believe in his success. He would eat a husk full of fish, curl around Featherstone in their woodcave and sleep in blissful peace. He had won his battle against death and fear.
First, though, he shot a blue bolt of fire before him and flew through the expanding burst of flames. It was not in celebration, however. It was to burn off the stink of fear that clung to his scales.
(c)Wirewolf 2013
"How to train your dragon" and all attendant characters are copyright
Dreamworks Animation and used without permission
AN: Happy New Year, folks! What better way to celebrate than to get a new chapter posted? Well, here you go!
This one is noticeably shorter than recent chapters. There simply wasn't that much that needed to be in it. That's also why it's being posted somewhat sooner than recent chapters.
A couple quick notes: I'm still not certain how many more chapters it will take to fully tell this story the way I want to, so I don't know if I can finish it in 2013 or not. Honestly, I'm not hopeful. Which actually makes me happy.
Also, while writing this particular chapter I had an epiphany: one particular element in this story, specifically in this chapter, opened a door in my mind and let in the idea of a series of stories that could come after this one. Large, expansive stories like this one as a continuation of events that will transpire in the months to come. I really don't know how I feel about that. Do I want to still be writing exclusively HTTYD fanfics in 2017? Would anybody still be reading them? Would I turn into a dragon during the process and start eating raw fish and flaming anyone who approached my cave? I really don't know.
But I will keep the idea alive in the back of my mind until "Broken" is finished.
Thanks for reading!