Bleak meter: Not bleak
Timeline: After Season 10/March of the Oni
Context: Spinkos are little lizards. They're tasty. Ish. Also all Hunters are expected to be good at burrowing, but Muzzle is one of the best.
It had been a long couple of days. Faith and a small squad of Hunters had taken the Dieselnaught on the long drive to former Oni territory, then spent the day gathering up legions of dead trees lying scattered across the barren earth. They would have enough wood to keep Dead's End building for at least a year. They had gotten a little greedy though, and the Dieselnaught's trailer was packed so full that a lot of Hunters had to double-fill the two speeders they'd brought, or ride hanging off the outside of the rig. This was a tiring way to travel, and the Earth, Fire, and Lightning dragons were also loaded down with bundles of wood and growing weary.
They stopped to rest in the middle of the desert, unharnessing the dragons and letting them roll comfortably in the sand. Most of the Hunters spread out to look for spinkos to snack on, or some cactus fruit. Firstbourne, who didn't deign to be a beast of burden but was still coming along to supervise these maneuvers so near her nest, settled herself regally by the rig and began preening her wings.
Faith was still rubbing at the marks in her palms left from hanging onto a sharp railing on the side of the Dieselnaught. Abruptly there was a roar of rocket boosters and Jet Jack landed roughly nearby, sand spurting around her. She emerged from the chaos already scrabbling to her feet and looking around wildly.
"Chief!" She bounded over. "There's a sandstorm three clicks east. It's coming this way."
"How fast?" said Faith, instantly tense.
"Well, visibility today is two clicks . . . " Jet Jack pointed east. Faith swore at the dark red mass billowing up on the horizon. Out here it was still piercing sunlight, but you could see the shadows running before the curtain of flying sand.
"No chance of outrunning that," she muttered. She looked up at the Dieselnaught, then swore again when she realized it was packed too full of dead trees to shelter in.
"Can we unload some of it before the storm hits?" said Jet Jack half-heartedly. You could tell she already knew the answer.
"We'll have to weather it out here," said Faith, jamming on her hat. "Get everyone back here."
Jet Jack nodded and scrambled up into the Dieselnaught's cab, revving the engine until it screamed. Faith wished, not for the first time, that she'd brought back one of the horns or sirens she'd seen on big vehicles back in Ninjago. Still, the sound of the motor caught the attention of all Hunters in earshot, and they came hurrying back, some looking puzzled, some already aware of the sandstorm and looking grim.
"Muzzle!" Faith called. "Sandstorm!"
He started, then looked where Faith pointed.
"We're staying outside," Faith added. His eyes widened, and he immediately tracked down a broad patch of flat sand and began to dig. A stiff breeze was already picking up, snatching away Faith's words as she barked orders to the increasing number of Hunters scurrying around. Most of them had already survived a sandstorm or two. Then again, nobody was taking votes from all the ones who hadn't survived.
Firstbourne had been mildly startled when the Dieselnaught first revved, and she shifted away from the source of the noise, offended. She bent to give Faith a questioning look.
"You'll pardon me if I don't have much time to talk now," said Faith hurriedly. "We need to prepare for that storm." She turned away, already shouting to a passing Hunter. "Where's Vetch? Where's Luisa?"
Firstbourne looked around, then nodded in understanding. Rearing back onto her haunches, she threw her head back and howled at the sky, loud enough to probably summon Hunters from over in Dead's End as well. If anyone had missed the Dieselnaught's signal, they would have caught that. Faith unclamped her ears, swore as the rising wind snatched away her hat, and went to help with the digging. They had to make a large shallow pit to shelter in, to block at least the very worst of the driving sand that was to come.
Firstbourne watched the efforts, her head tilting this way and that curiously. As a dragon she was much more impervious to some blowing dust, but she got the sense that the tiny humans were going to take this very hard.
Sand was already starting to bite away at Faith's cheeks. She pulled a scarf over her mouth, coughing, and desperately tried to shield her eyes with one hand.
"It's going to hit! Get to shelter!" she bellowed.
Her Hunters converged into the pit like beads rolling into a basket, huddling and scraping to better shield themselves. Faith counted heads, her heart seizing—
—Out of nowhere Firstbourne stepped in. She lay down gingerly next to the pit, folded back her claws, and spread out one wing invitingly. There was some hesitation among the Hunters, but Faith caught the giant dragon's eye and understood.
"It's safe," she called. "Go!"
Just then the sandstorm hit in earnest. It was like hitting a wall; suddenly there was more sand than air, visibility was zero, everything burned. Faith had thought she had very little exposed skin at the moment, but she was mistaken.
She stumbled forward, and someone caught at her, pulling her towards the group. She faintly heard dragons bellowing and shrieking above the howling of the wind, as they adjusted to the discomfort of the storm.
Suddenly the wind seemed to die out. Faith cracked her eyes open and saw that Firstbourne's wing had closed over the group of Hunters, sweeping them closer to her side. The thick tattered membranes between her wing ridges rippled from the force of the wind outside, but the seal was remarkably good. Rivulets of sand filtered in through the small spaces where the body didn't meet the wing.
Firstbourne's massive head abruptly thrust under the wing as well. Her nictitating membranes were up, and her nostrils reopened as she came to rest, letting out twin puffs of sand. Faith silently reached over to stroke her muzzle in gratitude, although her heart was heavy.
"Ari," came a thin voice from the other side of the group. Then, panicked, "Where's Ari?!"
One of the other Hunters, Luisa, was starting to her feet. Everyone looked to her, startled, except Faith who already knew.
"He's still out there!" she shrilled.
"I know," said Faith grimly. "I didn't see him anywhere before the storm hit. It's too late now."
"He'll die—" Luisa was starting to fight her way over to the edge of the group, panicked.
"Luisa!" said Faith sharply. "Stand down!"
The Hunter turned towards her with eyes full of rage and desperation.
"I know," said Faith. "There's nothing we can do now."
"If you go out looking for him now we'll only lose you too," said Jet Jack. Faith dipped her head in acknowledgement.
"I'm sorry. We'll look for him as soon as the storm passes; he may survive on his own as well."
Luisa stood very still for a moment, a faint trembling in her jaw the only external sign of her interior processes.
"Stand down, Luisa," said Faith again.
"Yes ma'am," guttered Luisa at length, and sank down where she stood. Some of the other Hunters shifted towards her in condolence; Muzzle patted her arm timidly. It was very quiet, other than the roar of the storm outside.
Meanwhile Faith slumped back against Firstbourne's scaly hide. She sensed she may have earned Luisa's enmity, but there really was nothing to be done. She had always known that leadership would at times mean decisions that her Hunters did not like, for their own safety. Still, her chest ached at the thought of Ari suffering out there in the storm alone, abandoned by his people. She could understand any resentment directed against her, at least short of mutiny. Luisa was a reasonable woman, Faith knew that on some level she understood.
Jet Jack wriggled her way over and sat next to her.
"You think he'll live?" she said quietly.
"He might," said Faith, not turning her head. Jet Jack sighed and leaned back with arms folded.
"Tough call there," she said.
"Harder on her," murmured Faith, nodding towards Luisa's motionless form.
"Mm." Jet Jack shook her head wistfully. "I can't blame her for taking it hard. Ari was good."
Faith sighed, dragging a hand down her face. Of course Jet Jack would know that firsthand.
A few moments later there was a hoarse roaring just outside, cutting over the howling of the wind. Firstbourne's wing rippled as if something large was pawing at it from the outside. Firstbourne tilted her head curiously, then drew aside her wing ever so slightly.
A torrent of sandy air burst through. Most of the Hunters cried out, shielding their faces. The Earth dragon's head poked under the wing for a moment, snuffling and rumbling, and through slitted eyes Faith saw a human form being shoved in with them. Earth withdrew and Firstbourne tightened her wing again.
"Ari?" Faith blinked sand from her eyes. "Hey!"
Luisa was already giving a bark of elation and throwing herself over. Muzzle yelped indignantly as she stepped on his foot in the process.
"Ari!"
The lost Hunter was hacking for air, his face and hands bleeding, but he was alive. Luisa was already splashing her drinking water over his face to clear away the sand and blood, half-sobbing something to him in an undertone; his hands grasped for her shoulders and stayed. The others clustered around, offering their own water or kerchiefs to help tend to him.
"Phew." Faith was on the other side of the group and couldn't climb over everyone to help as well, but she passed along her water flask and sat back with a relieved sigh. She was surprised when Firstbourne's thick hide shifted beneath her back, her muscles seeming to uncoil, and the dragon gave a sigh, her giant eyelids shuttering closed and open in a slow, relieved blink.
"I didn't know you cared," Faith found herself needling. Firstbourne snorted and gave her a baleful look. At her elbow Faith felt Jet Jack laughing silently. Despite her usual frustration with her first mate, she found she didn't mind having Jet Jack beside her just now. Not the usual company she would have sought, but right now things seemed relaxed and cozy, and everything a little more tolerable than usual. This time, at least, she had been saved from having one of her Hunters' deaths on her conscience. They were safe in the middle of a raging sandstorm. One of the elder beings of the universe, formerly their mortal enemy, was sheltering them under her wing like one of her own younglings.
Feeling a little guilty about her earlier jab, Faith reached over to stroke Firstbourne's nose again. The dragon gave her an irritated look for a moment, but then settled for shutting her eyes haughtily without actually pulling away.
"Well, they're probably going to get married now," remarked Jet Jack, audibly disappointed as she watched Ari and Luisa getting lost in their own little world. "And he'll probably be one of those faithful ones, too. Shame."
Faith elbowed her in weary reproach and sat back, closing her own eyes. Outside the wind kept howling, ripples of sand dancing over the hides of the dragons patiently waiting out the storm.
Prompt was "Storm."