Bleak meter: Hard bleak

Timeline: Far prior to the show, when the canon characters were children and didn't have their given Hunter names yet.

Context: "Whelp" applies to Hunter children as well as dragons. Hunter kids are raised in a communal nursery, and all babies born within a given nine-month block are part of the same "batch" and raised together.

"Go 'way Chaz," mumbled Judy sleepily. After a second she started and opened her eyes. "You're not s'posed to be here."

"I don't care," said Chaz stolidly. "In the morning they mix all our batches anyway."

Judy laughed as she sat up, trying to ruffle Chaz's hair even though it was kept way too short to ruffle.

"You've been around me way too long, Chazzy."

The nursery workers were by now so used to Chaz and Judy being joined at the hip, they didn't even seem to notice that Chaz had crept away from his batch's sleeping quarters and into Judy's. As Chaz had said, they herded all the children together first thing in the morning for breakfast.

They ate together, Chaz staying close by Judy's elbow as they both kept watchful eyes on their surroundings. If any of the older whelps seemed to look their way too long, Chaz would pause and look nervously to Judy. Seeing that she was always munching away unconcernedly, he would be reassured and go back to his own meager breakfast. Judy had protected him from the older children and his own batchmates for several years by now. He had complete faith in her ability to defend him.

"Finish up, everyone!" called one of the nursery workers. "Today is a training day with the hunting squad!"

There was a mix of cheers and groans, and the nursery went into disarray for the rest of the morning. The hunting squad came by soon, gruff and intimidating.

"Some of you will be entering the young-adult squadron soon," said one of them, his eyes flickering over Judy's batch. "The rest of you can use the early practice. Hunting is the goal to which all able-bodied young whelps should strive; the chance to prove your worth and protect and feed your people. Not all of you will be fit!" He swept a cold look over the shuffling crowd of youngsters. "But today will be your first chance to try."

To much oohing and gasping, the hunting squad dragged in three large cages, each holding a squalling, thrashing baby dragon.

"These will be your targets!" called the squad leader. "You may choose to hunt alone, in pairs, or in any kind of group. Honor goes to the ones who bring down one of these beasts."

Chaz sucked in his breath as he caught sight of the claws and flashing fangs already present on these young specimens.

"How're we gonna do this?" he whispered, as the hunting squad began barking out rules and guidelines.

"Just tackle the creep and stab his throat," Judy whispered back, tightening her pigtails. "We've got this."

"Hey Chaz, you're on our team," someone called from nearby. "We need bait."

Chaz shook his head anxiously and backed a little closer to Judy. She cast an irritated look over to one of her own batchmates, who was shouldering his way over with a hungry eye set on Chaz. He was about the same age as Judy, obviously, but he acted older.

"You're in the wrong batch, idiot," he snapped, as Chaz scrabbled even further back. "Make yourself useful as live bait or we'll look into cut bait instead. I bet one of those fat little arms would be just right for those scalies."

He grabbed for Chaz's arm, but Chaz yelped and smacked him away.

"Bug off," growled Judy, stepping in and shoving the older boy in the chest. He smirked and shoved her back. Scowling, she coiled her fists, and Chaz backed away a little from them both, knowing how wild things tended to get once Judy got into a brawl. They were getting towards that age where girls briefly outweighed boys their own height, so he had no doubt Judy could puree this guy, but he didn't want to get caught in the melee this time around.

Just then the hunting squad leader blew on a whistle, and some of the squad members threw open the cages all at once. The baby dragons sprang for freedom, screeching, and the waiting whelps thundered after them in a howling mass. Judy and her opponent both turned to look at the sound, but Judy recovered quicker and took the opportunity to punch her batchmate in the face before grabbing Chaz's arm and taking off after the other whelps.

The dragon younglings had already vanished from sight, hiding among rocks and dunes outside the village, and the pack of whelps was already well spread-out, some chasing after a flicker of scales here or there, some hunting among the terrain for hidden prey.

"I can't go so fast!" protested Chaz, already breathless and stumbling after just a few seconds. Judy let go of his arm.

"I'll track one down, you catch up and help me hold it!" she called over her shoulder, and drew far ahead in just a few strides.

"Judy!" wailed Chaz, but sighed resignedly and tried to pump his legs faster. He comforted himself with the thought that, if he and Judy really did catch one of the dragons, he'd gain some social capital. The other whelps might stop tormenting him so much.

Heartened by this, he kept up a decent pace for a while. After a moment he noticed Judy up ahead, crouched atop a rock. She motioned vigorously for silence as she saw him approaching.

"Down there," she whispered, gesturing. "It's hiding. We need to flush it out and flank it, okay?"

Chaz had to process a little bit, as he often did, but at last he nodded.

"I'll take the right, you take the left," Judy continued. She glanced back to Chaz's confused face, then added, "left is this way."

"Got it," whispered Chaz.

"Okay," said Judy, and slid down from the rock. "Go!"

There was indeed a dragon youngling hiding underneath a nearby outcropping of stone. When Judy's boots pounded into its sight it screamed and took off for higher ground.

"Go go go! Get it!" yelped Judy, and Chaz did his level best to keep the pace. Judy was still drawing ahead though, and the dragon youngling even more so; Chaz watched desperately as the whipping spiked tail drew farther and farther away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Judy suddenly stumble and go sprawling, but he kept running, thinking she had tripped.

The dragon continued to draw away. Chaz glanced over his shoulder to see if Judy was catching up again, and realized with a jolt that she hadn't gotten up. He glanced despairingly to the dragon, but he knew he had no chance of catching up to it alone, and forget bringing it down. He skidded to a stop and went back.

"Judy, what's wrong? Get up!" he panted, sliding to his knees next to her. "Judy?"

His friend was propped up on her hands, half on her side, her eyes blank with fear, her breath shallow.

"I can't feel my legs."

Chaz shuddered with a sudden cold jolt; he had never heard her voice so thin.

"What do you mean? They're right there!"

"I can't feel them," whispered Judy, swallowing. "I can't walk."

"Why?" demanded Chaz, beginning to lapse into panic himself. "They're right there, there's nothing wrong. Come on, move them! Move your toes."

Shivering, Judy shifted first one foot, then the other, then bent her knees.

"There—" began Chaz triumphantly, but Judy shuddered violently and began to hyperventilate.

"I can't feel them move!"

Chaz looked at her helplessly, beginning to realize that something, although he couldn't fully understand what, really was wrong here.

"What happened, Judy?" he whispered, shaking her arm. "Why?"

"I don't know!" snapped Judy, on the verge of tears. "They just quit!"

"They've never done this before?" said Chaz.

"They feel funny sometimes," said Judy, looking away. "If I run or move too much. But never like this."

"You never told me," said Chaz, unable to keep a hurt note out of his voice. Judy only turned her head further away. Chaz swallowed.

"Aright, we have to get home. I'll help you. Come on."

He pulled her arm over his shoulders and struggled to his feet, dragging her up alongside him. She seemed to still be able to stand, technically. She was definitely placing weight on her legs, and they weren't buckling. But every time she attempted to take a step she appeared to go into a fresh wave of panic.

"It's like walking on nothing, Chaz, what do I do? What do I do?"

They had only managed to lurch a few steps when a tall figure appeared over a dune, ominously shadowed against the sun. Chaz looked up helplessly at one of the hunting squad members, who peered down at them with disgust.

"What's all this now?" He stepped down and took Judy roughly by the back of the collar, holding her up. "The nursery is wasting its pity on cripples now? If you can't walk you shouldn't have lived past infancy."

"I can walk." Judy's voice had taken on another tone Chaz had never heard before, thick and vicious. "Just not right now."

"And you think a full-grown dragon in a death frenzy will care about the difference?" sneered the hunter, giving Judy a shake. "You'd be dead within two hours, brat. Stay away from the hunting squad when you graduate, you hear me? Start making friends with the Outcasts."

Chaz shivered. All whelps lived under the looming fear of growing up to be an Outcast. A scrabbling, starving sack of skin and bones scraping out an existence outside the village walls, cast on the tender mercies of a village barely better-fed than they were.

"I'll be a better hunter than you ever will be!" spat Judy, struggling to shake off the hand on her scruff. Her eyes were bright with hatred, burning holes in the man's face. "One day I'll be the boss of you."

"Is that so?" The hunter smiled mirthlessly. "Then first let's see you run."

It was cool dusk by the time Chaz dared to approach Judy again. He found her in a distant corner of the nursery yard, half-burrowed into a shallow pit in the sand, her face buried in her arms. She was still twitching with silent sobs.

"Judy," whispered Chaz, placing a hand cautiously on her back.

"Go away," guttered Judy.

"You got your legs back," said Chaz helplessly, trying to reassure her. "That's good."

Judy drew tighter into herself, saying nothing. In a way Chaz could understand. She had been put through hell all afternoon; the grown-ups made her attempt to run again and again, sending her over obstacles, pitting her against progressively slower whelps in footraces, proving she would lose even to toddlers barely past walking, yanking her roughly to her feet with oaths and harsh words every time she stumbled and went down. She had been humiliated before the entire nursery; she hadn't even had the grace to keep from crying in front of the grown-ups, and had been cursed out for that as well.

"It's over now," said Chaz. "If you don't get up you won't get dinner."

No reply.

"Judy . . . "

Chaz sat back, sighing. He saw movement from the corner of his eye. Looking back, he saw some of Judy's batch tacking towards them.

"Judy, get up," he said urgently. "There's people coming."

Her shoulders shifted in a sigh. Chaz waited for her to get up, but she still didn't move.

"Judy," he pleaded. "They'll beat you up."

She didn't move.

"Judy!" Chaz swallowed, desperate. He had lived most of his conscious life looking to Judy as his protector. He had never known a moment where she didn't step up to save him. He didn't know what to do now that he suddenly wasn't.

For a second he thought about switching their roles. That sounded like something out of the stories the nursery workers told, didn't it? Repaying all she'd done for him?

But he looked to the three approaching whelps, all older and bigger than him, and knew there was no chance he could take them all. They would likely beat him senseless and then go for Judy. Why get his own skull cracked if it didn't help her anyway?

"At least get up and help me!" he pleaded.

She worked her way a little deeper into the sand, a pointed refusal. Chaz took one last look at the approaching whelps, got to his feet, and fled.

The next morning he didn't sneak into the older batch's sleeping quarters. He did see Judy at breakfast, though. She looked sore, and her face was scraped, but she was alive.

He sat down next to her in silence. He knew things were delicate now.

"You left me," said Judy quietly, not looking up.

"You left me," said Chaz. "I couldn't take on all three of them. You could have. Together we could have. But you wouldn't get up. I needed you, and you didn't get up."

"I needed you," said Judy, still quiet. "For once. And you let me down."

"You let me down too," said Chaz. Somehow neither of them felt like raising their voices.

They ate in silence for a while.

"There's nobody else, though," said Judy after a minute.

"Nobody," agreed Chaz heavily.

So they continued as if nothing much had happened. They were just a little more guarded with each other, leaned on each other a little less heavily. It was an important lesson for all whelps to learn: never to place full trust in anyone. But both of them realized that someone you could trust at least partially was better than nobody at all.

The mountains south of Dead's End were infamous for their brutality. You could technically pick out a path upwards, but the Dieselnaught would have flipped down the mountainside before it traveled twenty meters. Speeders also didn't work on this kind of an incline. That only left old-fashioned climbing.

"Are we halfway up now?" complained Chew Toy, for at least the seventeenth time.

"Can I chuck him down the mountain?" asked Daddy No-Legs, for at least the fourteenth time.

"Yes, and no," groaned Faith from up front.

"In that order?" said No-Legs hopefully.

"Yes!"

No-Legs sighed, then swiped half-heartedly at Chew Toy, who was thumbing his nose at him.

Meanwhile Jet Jack was whisking circles around the group with her jet pack, boosting higher up the mountain and coming back every five minutes. When the group stopped to rest, wheezing for air, she paused to hover among them with a pitying expression, clear enough even behind her visor.

"I'm sorry, Jet Jack, are we slowing you down?" said Faith, with unusual sarcasm. She was getting tired too.

"A little bit," said Jet Jack, with an air of "I'm trying to put this nicely." No-Legs snatched for her shirt, meaning to yank her to the ground and force her to walk with the rest of them, but she dodged and whisked out of reach, laughing.

"I'll have you grounded," hissed Faith. Jet Jack only rolled her eyes carelessly. She caught Chew Toy's eye right up at the end, and a brief look of understanding passed between them. She looked away, suddenly sheepish, while Chew Toy gave her a smile halfway between frustrated and affectionate.

"You still don't hafta be such a pain about it," he said.

"No clue what you're talking about," said Jet Jack unconvincingly, and whisked away.

Prompt was "Running."