A/N:
Holy shit. I was so so certain people had finally, fully forgotten about this fic, so "Chapter" 9 was mostly just a joke between me and a friend because we were reminiscing about old fics and going "ahaha wouldn't it be funny if -!" So imagine my surprise when I pull this old fossil up again and see a review from this year on this fic, and from an old friend, no less! I about lost my damn mind, lmfao

But hey Twig, long time no see! Or Neon-S, if we're being formal? It's been so long, maybe you go by something else now. Anyway, since against all odds someone is still here, I guess I owe it to you to do the rewrites like I said I would! (And man, when I tell you I was SHOOK when I saw your review and the timestamp on it - I'm amazed you're still here! After all these years, it's nice to see a familiar 'face.' :3) I promise my writing is better now than it used to be, lol.

And to Tempest the SeaWing, hello and welcome! Thanks for your review on the original chapter two, it's much appreciated ^w^. I will say, though, it's probably a better idea to skip the original chapters and jump straight to the rewrites, if you haven't read all the original text already; 14-year-old me was many things, but a good writer was not one of them haha.

Rather than delete the old chapters or post an entirely new fic, I'm just going to post the rewritten chapters here and title them "ch. 1 rewrite," "ch. 2 rewrite," and so on, so that the originals will still be there. Y'know, for nostalgia reasons, and also bc they crack me tf up to read now and I might want to return to them from time to time for a laugh. (But if this gets confusing and y'all think I should leave this old fic as it is and post the rewritten chapters as their own separate work, feel free to let me know!)

Before we get into this shindig, I think it should be said that I haven't finished all the WoF books (and isn't the series still ongoing?) and I am nowhere near up to date on canon lore and events, so know that these rewrites will be done entirely based on what I can remember from like ten years ago and my own old writing. Although I may give the first two or three books a re-read as a refresher for the dragonets' personalities and characterization...I'll have to see. All that being said, I'm sorry I won't be writing any new-new chapters once all eight chapter rewrites are done; I'm just so behind on the canon series and I'd have no idea where to take this. I hope you still get something out of this little revamp though, even if it's just a better version of this silly old partial fic from when I was in middle school.

Alright, well! That's more than enough rambling from me, I'd say; I promise in future not all my author's notes will be as long-winded as this one...Probably. Now, for old time's sake, let's do this thing, huh?

The ground beneath Tsunami is cold and hard. She's not so soft that she needs lavish furniture or a nest of pillows to get a good night's sleep, never has been, never will be, but this is a bit much, even for her. It isn't cold like the briny depths of her ancestral home, not hard like the press of water all around her, or like the jut of a dragonet's elbow digging into her side; in fact, nothing about this place is familiar. Not the smell, not the distant plink of water dripping slowly on unseen surfaces, not the rough scrape of the uneven stones beneath her scales, not the complete and utter lack of warm bodies cuddled close to her own. It could just be the remnants of a nightmare. Maybe if she goes back to sleep, all will be normal again when she wakes.

Normal is good. Tsunami likes normal - at least, she does when she's tired enough for ten dragons and trying to get some decent shut-eye.

The noise, though, is making sleep difficult. Around her, dragons converse in low voices, their words accompanied by the drone of many bodies darting around each other in a confined space. Claws clack with hurried footsteps. Scales rasp against rough terrain. Wings shuffle and flap, stirring dust into the air. Tsunami coughs as a cloud of dust and grit hits her full in the face, jerking her head to the side and flicking her gills closed to keep irritants out. The sensation of moving doesn't stop when her head goes still, even though it should.

"What..."

Groaning, Tsunami cracks an eye open, already glaring, expecting to see one of her friends there snickering about their latest prank, or grinning sheepishly to apologize for waking her. Instead, she's met with the dizzying view of gravel rushing by inches from her face. Tsunami's stomach lurches, and she reels back with a yelp, wings thrashing, legs scrabbling for purchase as she tries to right herself. Her eyes take longer than they should to adjust to her surroundings, so it isn't until after a moment spent squinting and blinking that her vision clears enough to see what's going on.

She's in what looks to be a cave, dissected by huge stalagmites and the occasional pillar of stone tall enough to reach the high ceiling above. The space is narrow and dim, lit only by the occasional torch or swinging lantern filling the air with a thin, murky haze. The smoke burns in Tsunami's gills and lungs, and the flickering lights make her head ache worse than it already does.

More than all that, though, what really grabs her attention is the throng of SkyWings rushing in every direction, weaving around stalagmites and disappearing into what Tsunami assumes must be tunnels or offshoot caves.

Wait.

SkyWings? Underground?

Tsunami stares.

Most of them ignore her as they pass her by, or glare when they catch her looking. One even snorts smoke from his nostrils in her direction, as if cursing her out would take more energy than she's worth. Rude. She'd like to see him try to back up the words she knows must be running through his head. She's even got a few choice words of her own in mind, but her tongue feels dry and heavy, and he's gone before she can even finish her thought.

Whatever. He's not worth her energy, either.

As a whole, the SkyWings gathered here seem to be in a hurry, though she spots a few of them stopping to speak with each other in clusters, or climbing the stalagmites to find space to stretch their cramped and folded wings before gliding back down to rejoin the masses. Torchlight bounces off their scales, yellow, crimson, orange, red, making them look like moving flames themselves as they swarm around each other in the gloom. It's almost...mesmerizing, in a way. Tsunami still greatly prefers the way SeaWings look when gathered together, though; all beautiful blues and greens, like a chest full of jewels or ocean waves sparkling in the sun...

High-pitched squeaking breaks Tsunami from her reverie. As she turns her head to look, she spots a handful of SkyWings gathered around what looks to be a scavenger. The scavenger yaps and scolds at the dragons surrounding it, brandishing a sharpened stick and jabbing at any who get too close, much to the SkyWings' amusement. It looks hurt, and exhausted. Tsunami can relate. She tries to move closer, to get a better view of what's going on. It's then, finally, that she realizes she's being dragged along by a pair of SkyWings with their talons clamped around the edges of her wings.

In hindsight, it's stupid that it took her so long to realize. She's supposed to be quicker than that. But in her defense, her head feels like it's full of rocks, and her thoughts still feel murky and slow. Somewhere in the back of her mind she can hear Starflight's voice as he gives a lecture on the tell-tale signs of a concussion, but she pushes that aside and tries to bring everything into focus.

"Where..." she croaks, but it comes out so thick and hoarse that she has to clear her throat and try again. "Where...am I?" No answer. "Why're we underground? Hello? I'm -" Someone's tail swipes across the ground, sending debris and loose stones spraying through the air. Tsunami coughs, choking on dust and torch smoke. "Hey, eels-for-brains! I'm talking to you two! Tell me what's going on!" The SkyWings to either side of her don't so much as look at her, let alone acknowledge that she spoke. "Are you listening to me?!" Growling, Tsunami tries again to get her legs propped under her, digging her claws into the gravel. The SkyWings keep trying to drag her along, but she flares her wings out and rears back, forcing them to let go. "I said, get your filthy claws off me!"

The SkyWing to Tsunami's left hisses a warning and lunges, but she ducks under his open jaws and tries to get her teeth into his neck. He's a lot bigger than her, though - a fully grown adult - and he isn't slowed down by stiff muscles or a concussion like she is. He reacts with startling speed, dodging back and rearing up to drop his full weight on her back. Tsunami hits the ground with a heavy thud, and all the wind gets knocked out of her. Her stomach lurches with the pain and rush of sudden movement, and she gasps for breath as she struggles to regain her footing. Teeth dig into the back of her neck, her legs, even her wings, and talons press in from all sides; some of the other nearby SkyWings must have rushed in to help their fellow soldiers. Tsunami kicks out angrily, claws swiping.

"Hold still," someone demands, but Tsunami doesn't listen. She has to get out of here. She has to find her friends. With a roar, she redoubles her efforts to break free, beating her wings, staggering back and forth blindly as SkyWings fight to pin her to the ground.

"Let go!" she snarls. "Get off me! I'll rip off your scales and wear them as armor!" Someone leaps on Tsunami's tail as she tries to use it to knock some of her assailants back, and they wrestle with the appendage as she thrashes and flails and tries to bite anything that moves, anything she can reach.

The air smells of blood, too much of it hers. It runs down her scales in rivulets, mixing with the dust and gravel into a thick, acrid sludge. Dozens of voices shout over each other, commanding her to stop, to surrender. Her movements are slowing, her strikes weakening, but Tsunami resolves to keep fighting as hard as she can for as long as she can. She'd rather die than surrender to the likes of these cowards.

She pictures her friends being ganged up on like this, outnumbered and fighting for their lives, and anger overshadows all other emotion. Bitingly cold, it roils and churns like the surface of the ocean during a storm, giving her one last burst of energy. The others could be imprisoned here already, or worse. It's up to Tsunami to reach them before it's too late.

Above the commotion, someone laughs. A chill runs up Tsunami's spine at the sound without her quite knowing why. "That's enough," a voice calls, and Tsunami's stomach drops.

No. Freaking. Way.

"I said I wanted the little worms alive," the voice continues, "not turned into mince meat." A pause, and then, "It's too early for dinner, anyway."

Around Tsunami, the SkyWings laugh, though only some of them sound like they mean it. She peers through the tangle of wings, tails, and talons, trying to catch a glimpse of the speaker. She has a nauseating suspicion she already knows who it is, but she needs to know for sure. She needs to know whose ass she has to kick.

She doesn't have to wait long; the soldiers part to make way for a single dragon, the emptied space forming a path straight to her.

Jewel-encrusted features. Glimmering medallions hanging from a long, wiry neck. Deep orange scales, and an all-too-familiar face with glowing yellow eyes.

"Scarlet," Tsunami growls, spitting blood at the disgraced queen's talons.

"Worm," Scarlet greets coolly. Only half her face smiles at Tsunami, the other side too twisted and scarred to move properly. "You'd think no one had ever taught you manners. Are all the Talons of Peace this unruly, or are you just especially dim?"

Tsunami grins, SkyWing blood dripping from her jaws. "Right, because you're just so polite."

Scarlet sneers. "Insipid little dragonets should know their place."

"I know my place," Tsunami shoots back, tail smacking against the ground. "It's dancing on top of your crumpled corpse after I finish the job Glory started!" Gasps fill the cavern, along with heated whispers and snarls of outrage. Tsunami feels a wash of pride at the look of seething hatred on Scarlet's face. "How about it, your Majesty? Let's settle this. Right here, right now." Her legs all but shake with exhaustion, her myriad wounds throbbing in time with her racing heart. Panting, she lifts her chin and meets Scarlet's gaze, daring her to back down and prove to everyone here she's a coward.

For a moment, Scarlet looks as if she just might accept. Smoke pours from her mouth and flaring nostrils, and her yellow eyes blaze almost as brightly as the torches. Tsunami waits with bated breath, claws itching for a fair fight, a chance to show these SkyWings what she's really made of.

But then Scarlet's eyes drift down, sweeping over all the blood on the ground, then back up as she gives Tsunami a once-over. Her expression becomes one of disdain, and she flicks her tail dismissively. "Why should I?" Tsunami's smile falters. "I mean, really, what do you expect will happen if you face me? In the state you're in, I'd place my bets on the weakest of our hatchlings and still expect to collect at the end of the fight." Sitting back on her haunches, Scarlet lifts a foreleg and inspects her claws. "Take her away," she says, sounding bored. "Put her with the others - and make sure not to give her any water until I say so. I want to see how much of that clever attitude remains when she's nothing but a withered husk."

A/N: Soooo we all remember what happened to Gill, right? Yeah.