Days passed, and he still couldn't bring himself to talk to Flame. Every time he thought about it, his maw clamped shut when the words were on the tip of his tongue as he remembered the feeling of feeling as if he could tell Flame anything. He couldn't, not that time. That time, it was different, and Flame would never understand.

He opened his eyes, and he could immediately tell that he had woken up before Flame as he peered outside. Clouds had formed in the sky that day. There would be a thunderstorm, he just knew it. A great way to set the atmosphere.

Like the day before, he was planning on skipping his session again. After what Nighthunter had said to him, his answers started to become shorter and shorter, and his anger welled up in his chest every second he was in the same room with her. He knew why, he wasn't one to lie to himself. He was scared she would say something he didn't want to hear, like how his and Flame's relationship would end. Every inch she stepped towards the subject only made Umber angrier and more defensive.

Quickly and quietly, like he used to do in the way he did in the war, he creeped out of bed. The room was quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop, and even then Umber was quieter. He made sure his talons didn't clack against the floor, and his footsteps were more than quiet.

He reached for the handle when all of a sudden… "Umber," he heard from behind him. "You're not leaving again, not without talking to me first, please." He pushed his way out of bed and stared at him through the darkness. He couldn't see him, but he could feel his eyes on him. "I've been patient, I've been giving you space, I've been writing you letters, but nothing's working. I tried Starf's way but I can't take the silence anymore!"

He felt his heart seize in fear as the words left his mouth without permission. "I'm fine-"

"Bullshit! You aren't fine, so please stop saying that!" He stood up and began walking over to him. "I know I fucked up the other day, alright? It's all my fault, I shouldn't have forced you to talk! But don't you see? Your silence is tearing us apart!" His voice started shaking, almost like he was… Crying… "I love you more than anything, you know that. So please, just say something to me. You don't even have to say anything! A hug or a kiss would be just fine…" His voice faltered as tears plagued his voice. "Just anything so I know you're still with me."

"I'm sorry," Umber apologized as he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe he could crush the words with his eyelids before they buried their way into his memory. He turned away and opened the door. All of a sudden, he felt talons on his shoulder as Flame jumped in front of him.

"No!" he exclaimed. As the light from the hallway shone in, he could see Flame's face was soaked with tears. Another stab to his heart, and another, and another, and another. Every tear that flowed down his face created another open wound. "I'm not letting you leave again! Not without talking to me first!"

"Let me go," he pleaded quietly, almost a whisper. Maybe if he spoke quietly enough, the words wouldn't be as hard to contain.

"I've waited almost a week for this opportunity, I'm not letting you go so you can start sleeping in the garden instead!" His face looked desperate. He knew what he was doing to Flame, but he kept doing it. He knew his silence was creating a hole in Flame's heart. But what was more important? Maybe if he told Flame, he could hate him instead of feeling sorry.

But he couldn't. His maw was super glued shut whenever he tried to open it. He didn't know why, but a strange lingering fear circled him whenever he thought about it. "Please," he begged again. But Flame just looked at him, his stare was empty, a dark, empty cave filled with nothingness. Flame was a husk of a dragon. Again. And it was all Umber's fault.

"I can't let you, I'm sorry." He sniffled. "If you would just sit down and talk to me about what's going on-"

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S GOING ON!" he snapped. Pent-up anger was all he could feel. Pent-up anger that bubbled to the surface rapidly, so fast he couldn't even see it coming if he tried. His mouth moved for him, uncontainable, uncontrollable anger. "YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD THIS LAST WEEK — MONTH — MONTHS HAVE BEEN ON ME! EVERY NIGHT I SEE HER, AND EVERY NIGHT I STAY AWAKE UNTIL I CAN'T ANYMORE!" He could feel himself start to cry. Tears washed down his scales and dripped onto the floor as the anger flooded his body.

"EVERY NIGHT I'M REMINDED OF HOW I KILLED HER! EVERY TIME I WAKE UP AND SEE YOU, I'M REMINDED OF WHAT I'M DOING TO YOU! AND EVERY MORNING I HATE MYSELF EVEN MORE!" And there it was, the truth. He knew it would happen if he started talking, and he was exactly right.

"You killed her? Umber, that was Icicle! You didn't do anything!" He put his talons on his shoulder, trying to comfort him, but he obviously hadn't learned anything from the past because Umber smacked his talons away harder than he meant to.

"ICICLE WAS FOLLOWING ORDERS! I WASN'T! MY JOB WAS TO PROTECT THEM AND I FAILED! ICICLE SUCCEED, I DIDN'T!" He felt like crumpling up into a ball, wrapping himself in his wings, and never coming out again. There was a pause where he managed to tame his anger. "Move," he said, but it sounded more like a demand.

"That wasn't your fault, Umber-"

"Move!" he said again, but louder. He wasn't asking anymore.

"Let's just go down to Nighthunter's office and talk this out, alright?"

"I SAID MOVE!"

He forcefully pushed past him. Through his anger and natural MudWing strength, he pushed Flame a lot harder than he meant to and sent his head bashing against the doorframe before he fell to the floor. Flame gripped the back of his head, only to bring his talons back, stained with blood. "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to…" he tried, before realizing his attempts at apologizing would go in vain.

It took a few seconds for it to sink in of what he had just done, and he wasn't going to stick around to see the aftermath. "It's alright! It was an accident!" Flame tried, but Umber was already running down the hall. He didn't know where he would go, but one thing was for sure: he couldn't stay in the Healing Center anymore. He couldn't stay there ever again. He could never see Flame again — he could never look him in the eyes again after getting physical with him.

And frankly, he didn't think he deserved to.

He knew he wouldn't be able to get far, so all he could do was hope that whatever party Flame sent out to find him wouldn't. Maybe he could hide in a mud puddle and come up every hour for a few moments for a breath.

He ran through the halls and occasionally looked behind him to check if Flame was trailing behind. He wasn't. It wasn't long before he was out through the door. He wished he could fly and soar through the air. Maybe he'd go back to the Mud Kingdom with Reed, Sora, Pheasant, and Marsh, never turning back to the Sky Kingdom. If only his wing hadn't been broken.

So instead of flying, he ran as far as his legs would allow. Rain batted against his scales and thunder crackled in the distance. It hid his tears, at least.

At some point — he didn't know when — he ended up in a forest, surrounded by trees and nature. The smell of a thousand different snacks in every direction filled his nose, but he wasn't hungry. Instead, he was cold, sad, and alone. He didn't have Flame's warming wing to shelter him from the rain, he didn't have his caring words to lift him up, and he didn't have the joy he felt whenever he entered the room. He was completely alone.

"It's just like when you and Sora ran," he whispered to himself. His voice was carried away by the beating rain against the leaves, though. Surviving in the woods, except he was injured and had no way of keeping himself warm. Not with the moist trees and cold conditions. At least with Sora, she could gather enough fire to start one, even during chilly nights. But hopefully, it would warm up later before the sun went down.

He used his good wing to cover himself from the rain pouring from the treetops, while his other stayed, broken, bandaged, and soaked. He knew he needed to find shelter, so he tried. He walked through the forest, listening to the fresh squirrels and birds overhead, almost as if they were mocking him. They would be easy prey to catch for when he was hungry — he could pinpoint them with his nose.

But even a dragon his size couldn't climb a tree; that job was left for RainWings. Even the little rodents on the ground were faster than him; any little tap against his broken wing caused him to wince, lose focus, and ultimately lose the catch. How could he survive out in the wild that way? He knew he could survive a month without food, and his wing would've surely healed by then. But he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle it before running back to Flame's warm embrace.

If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he had to find food. And quickly.

So he looked for shelter instead. He would be able to find something at the very least, right? Worst came to worst, he would have to sleep in a bush.

But all of a sudden, as he continued walking, he felt a pulse of anger and sadness run through him as Flame's bleeding head zipped through his mind. It took him a moment, but tears quickly came. The anger didn't dissipate like it usually did, instead, it spread throughout his whole body. It didn't feel like him when his right talon extended out and slammed against the tree in front of him.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again, until his knuckles were bleeding, all while tears clouded his vision, but it wasn't from the pain; the pain felt good in a strange way. His heart ached, which showed through his eyes, and he fell forward and gripped the blood-stained tree. Flame wasn't the only one bleeding that day.

He used it as support as tears dripped from his eyes and his sobs echoed loudly through the forest. If any prey was nearby, it was surely gone. Or more importantly, if anyone was looking for him, he may as well have been screaming exactly where he was.

But he didn't have the energy to get up, or even move. He let his talons go from the tree and let himself tumble to the ground. His broken wing took a big impact, but like before, the pain was comforting.

For the next hour, he laid there without moving and let out loud wails. The blood on his knuckles washed away in the rain, leaving open cuts that were clearly visible. He tried to cover himself with his wing, but his body hardly fit underneath. Only the wing of a SkyWing could keep him warm. Only Flame's wing can keep me warm, he thought.

But he knew he couldn't go back. If Flame didn't already hate him for his admission, he couldn't look him in the eyes regardless, knowing he had opened not only a new wound on his head but his heart, too.

Somehow, finally, he managed to get up. Tears dried on the scales below his eyes, but he kept moving forward — dragons were certainly looking for him by then if they weren't before. It was only confirmed when he heard his voice get called from off in the distance. "Umber! Where are you?" they said. He recognized the voice all too well. It was Flame.

Without hesitation, he scurried into a bush as fast as his legs would carry him. The bush was big and covered enough of him that nothing except his tail poked out, but he curled it in as close as he possibly could. "Are you out here somewhere?" he asked again. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that! I just couldn't take your silence anymore! Please, just…" his voice faltered with what sounded like tears, and he dropped it down to an exhausted plea. "If you're around here, come out. If you're mad at me, I don't blame you, stay mad at me. But everyone is worried about you right now!"

For a moment, he considered it. But as he imagined himself staring Flame down, or worse, hugging him, he felt his stomach churn. After what he'd done to Flame, he knew he didn't deserve that, and Flame didn't deserve him. No, Flame deserved much better than him. Flame deserved a dragon that didn't swear at him and hurt him whenever he tried to help.

He could do better than Umber.

It took a few hours for him to look around the area — his scent was still fresh in the air, and he obviously smelled Umber faintly as well. If it weren't for the rain, Flame probably would've found him a long time before. It was a blessing and a curse that the rain picked up, obscuring Umber's scent even further until he knew Flame couldn't smell him. But as dusk settled and the sun started dipping under the horizon, it got cold. Right then, Umber knew he wouldn't be able to start a fire.

Instead of being well-fed, warm, and with one of his sibs, he was hungry, freezing, and completely alone.

The darkness around him whispered in a threatening voice. Flame was gone, too far gone to scare away whatever may have been stalking him in the dark. It'd been a while since he had to face the darkness without him, he almost forgot what the feeling of eyes on him felt when he couldn't stare back. Any tiny movement beyond his bush scared him into submission, but he was far more scared than facing Flame than he ever would of the dark.

So he dealt with it. He dealt with it and cried. Not just because of the dark, but also because Flame wasn't with him to soothe him, to keep him warm when it was cold, to make him feel better when everything around him was crumbling to bits.

Finally, though, after hours, he managed to fall asleep. He dreamt of Crane again that night, but at least he didn't have to deal with the reality of the situation.

"Manticore, how have you been dealing with his death so far?" Starfish asked as he looked through his notes. Dreamcatcher had certainly written a lot about Manticore's situation, and his illness had certainly crammed his agenda a lot more than before. If only he had time to read every single one of Manticore's notes, he would've had a much easier time. Instead, he had to rely on a summary that Dreamcatcher had written for him.

Dreamcatcher certainly wasn't the best of the healers they had — he was still learning. But most of the better healers had more complex cases; harder cases. Cases that would be far too advanced for him. Manticore's, on the other talon, was relatively simplistic. Or at least one of his strong suites as Starfish had taught him himself.

"Well, it's hard," they said with their voice low. "It gets a little easier every day, but it's still hard. I've been doing well, but his birthday was hard on me. I didn't come out of my room at all, not even to play guitar in the lobby like I usually do to unwind for the day." With his talon freshly dipped in ink, he began writing.

With their brother's birthday, Manticore didn't take it the best. They locked themselves in their room and stopped playing guitar. High possibility of depression but requires further questioning before coming to any conclusions.

"Are you still feeling this way? Or was it just a pass-and-go kind of thing?" Starfish asked.

"It was just a pass-and-go thing," Manticore said. He mentally noted the way Manticore shifted. They kept a posture that signified open and honest suggestions, they never shifted uncomfortably or engaged in any type of self-soothing, they never tried to steer the conversation away, and their eyes kept contact with Starfish the whole time. All signs pointed to the truth.

"During this period, did you have any thoughts of self-harm?" Starfish asked. Manticore's eyes darted away and their talons quickly found a crease in the wooden chair to fidget with, and the cosmetic bandages around their right arm, left leg, and right ankle shook as they trembled slightly. The silver bracelet on their left wrist jingled along.

Their posture subtly changed to defensive, and their tail curled around the chair leg slightly. He noticed one tattoo that slowly faded from scales to a more black, until turning solid and blended in with their tail barb. He quickly noticed another tattoo around their forearm — a snake that wrapped fully around before biting its own tail.

In response, Starfish quickly shifted to what he knew to be the "honest" posture in hopes that Manticore would mimic him. After a pause, Starfish finally said something. "Manticore."

Their posture changed to match his slightly. "Fine! Yes, I did have thoughts of self-harm, but I didn't act on any of them." The fidgeting of the chair quickened, and their tail wrapped tighter around the chair leg. "All I thought is, if there was something…after…would it be better to be with him? It was just a passing thought though, I never would."

That time, he paid attention to their eyes since body language wouldn't be a good indicator. For a brief moment, they made contact with Starfish. They weren't lying, thankfully. "Good." He went back to writing.

During their brief period of depression, Manticore had thoughts of self-harm but never acted upon them, and stated 'It was just a passing thought though, I never would'. They were unwilling to talk at first, but it didn't take much pushing at all to get them to. It seems they're very easy to talk to. All signs point to the depressive episode being grieving and they seem to be doing better now.

"Are you still having these thoughts?" Starfish asked once again. He didn't like dwelling on those topics just as much as Manticore seemed to hate them, but they were necessary questions after such an incident.

Manticore shifted from a defensive position to an uncomfortable one. "No," they said. He didn't need to read body language to tell that they wanted for the topic to change quickly. But based on everything that they'd said before, they were telling the truth.

Manticore is no longer having thoughts of self-harm, thankfully. Self-harm seems to be an uncomfortable topic to them as anyone would have guessed. They're handling their brother's death decently right now, but will periodically check on them to make sure.

He had just finished his last note when the door burst open, not only startling Manticore, but Starfish too. "Starfish, I need you right now," Nighthunter said. The look of worry on her face said everything he needed to know. Something terrible had happened.

Twigs cracked under his talons as he searched through a bush, and rain poured relentlessly against his scales. Dirt and mud caked his feet and dirtied his scales, but he kept moving on for Umber's sake. Everything he ever did was for Umber, and he sure as the moons wasn't going to stop then. Not when he needed Flame the most.

He didn't know what caused him to run off. It could've been the guilt of hurting him, his admission, or that he was mad at him for cornering him the way he did. He felt horrible. How could he have done that to him? How did he not think once about what he was doing to Umber? It was all about him. Selfishness is what drove Umber away.

It was all his fault again, except the consequences were far worse that time.

Umber couldn't survive in the wild without being able to fly, he just knew it. He couldn't fly up and catch a bird for an easy snack, catch the animals in the trees, or even swim fast enough to catch a fish. And with the amount he had to eat, he wouldn't last longer than a month. I hope his wing heals by then, Flame thought. He winced at the thought that Umber may be missing for over a month. Alone, scared, cold, and hungry.

He wished he could wrap him in his wings and tell him that everything would be alright. He wished he could kiss him while he spilled his heart out to him. He wished he didn't try to force him to speak just like he had done before.

He couldn't take it anymore though — the silence was eating him from the inside out, and his heart ached every minute Umber didn't speak to him. He tried to distract himself every day, but Umber was the only thing on his mind.

"Umber!" he called out again. Hopes of some sort of a response were low, but he was desperate. Even if Umber was willing to respond, the rain dwindled the chances even further. "Are you out here? We can go back to the Healing Center and I can make you whatever you want to eat, alright? We can go back to our room and never talk about this again!"

Silence.

He kept walking for a few more moments. Still nothing.

But something flickered in the dark. One shine of moonlight revealed something staring back at him. Or rather, someone. Their gazes met, and whoever it was didn't hesitate to sprint away. He blew out a tiny plume of flame, and as they left, Flame saw a tail round a tree. A brown tail.

"Umber?!" he yelled, both surprise and fear filled his heart. On one talon, he found Umber. On the other, Umber was running from him.

He didn't hesitate — his legs moved for him and he immediately broke into a sprint. He followed the sounds of rustling leaves and snapping twigs as branches slapped him in the face and the terrain threatened to trip him. "Umber! Stop, please!" he cried out. His heart felt as if it was beating through his chest and his legs wanted to give way.

But Umber kept running, away from Flame, away from the Healing Center, away from his problems. Away from everything he loved and everyone he cared for.

He couldn't see Umber, he only had the guide of footsteps fading in the darkness. But he kept running. On the way, he stepped on a thorn bush, but he kept pushing on despite the stabbing pain in his foot, pushing the thorns deeper and deeper into his scales. For Umber, he thought. No doubt it would be a painful process from a healer to remove them all.

He couldn't tell if he was crying or if it was the rain blocking his vision, but he didn't care. It went on for the good part of five minutes, pushing through branches and stepping on the thorn in his foot, no doubt leaving a trail of blood that would quickly be washed away by the rain. Thunder roared in his ears and the rain pelting against his scales felt like hail.

He was so close to Umber, he could almost grab him — he could clearly see his dirtied bandages on his wing against the greenery around. But as he was distracted on catching him, Umber suddenly jumped, and Flame didn't.

One roll at a time, he fell into a ditch that looked more like a river. He almost hit his head on another rock but he managed to push himself away. As he finally hit the bottom, he laid there. He let the rain pour along his scales, and let his back sink into the mud. He knew that may have been his only chance to get Umber, and he failed.

He failed Sora, Clay, Reed, Marsh, Pheasant, Zephyr, Jet, and Nighthunter. But more importantly, he failed Umber. He failed him for the third day in a row.

He didn't go back to the Healing Center that night. Instead, he laid where his latest failure happened, his eyes wide and his mind filled with how much he wished he could go back in time and try again. Maybe if he had focused more, he would've caught Umber and they would have gone back to the Healing Center together and everything would be alright.

But would it have even worked? He thought. Would he have been able to fight me off anyway? Was chasing him even worth the effort? He paused. No, of course it was! I was so close but I failed. Umber, please just come back, he sobbed. He didn't even notice that the sun had come up and the mud that once caked his scales was dry, turning him part MudWing.

He got up and looked around, only to feel a horrible pain in his neck when he tried to look around. He looked back down at where he was laying, only to realize he was using a rock as a pillow. Once he thought about it, his neck was craned at an awkward angle as well.

Exhaustion still hadn't hit him yet — almost twenty-four hours at that point, yet he felt as if he had just woken up from a nightmare. Heart pounding, breaths short and shallow, all except the joy that whatever he had just experienced wasn't real hit him. Every time he thought of Umber — what they had been through together, what they still could do together, his heart ached, feeling like it might explode.

So he would keep searching in hopes he could find Umber again. But a deep feeling in his mind, like a mind reader predicting the future, he could feel he wouldn't. It clawed at his mind and buried its way into his heart that he may never see Umber again.

The warmth from the bright sun was all but comforting, but at least he would be able to smell Umber. But he would also be able to smell every other animal in the forest. Hopefully, he wouldn't pick up a similar scent and follow that instead of Umber. Hopefully.

It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. The words repeated in his head over and over again, looming over him like a sheet of darkness. A rain cloud that perpetually floated over his head, raining down his own failure upon his scales, and thunder crackling around him containing every spark of energy that rushed through him — the same sparks that turned the ember he felt for Umber into a fire, blazing as high as the restaurant fire. All of it was being tossed into the ground to be buried.

Every time he thought of the past, he went over every detail back in the room. Every sentence he said, every pronunciation of every word, and every movement he went over delicately, and he wished he could go back and change it. He knew exactly what he'd say, and it was nowhere close to what he had actually said. But the past is the past, and there's no going back, so he had to fix the mess he made.

Starting with finding Umber.

Ending with Umber finding acceptance.

I have to find him, he thought. So he went on and climbed the steep ravine, despite the quivering in his legs. He went on, through the trees and through the forest, checking every bush and cave and dug through every scent in the air. He went on, inspecting every footprint on the ground and sniffing it.

Finally, after hours, he managed to pick up a scent. He followed it through miles upon miles of the forest. He was moving, not coincidentally either. Umber could smell him from much further than Flame could smell him, and he was running. Again. Running was the only thing he had been doing for the last day, the both of them. He hoped Umber had gotten something to eat and he wasn't chasing him until he collapsed from exhaustion.

Should I stop? He wondered. No, I have to keep going. Umber collapsing from exhaustion or hunger meant that Flame would be able to find him and signal the others as to where he was. If he remembered correctly, ten or so dragons were searching for Umber when he left, Zephyr and Nighthunter included.

But dusk washed over him and darkness shrouded the forest until he could hardly see ahead of him. Using fire wasn't an option because the forest was too dense. He could risk setting it on fire from just one spark. And then what? Umber became a burn victim twice over? Maybe he wouldn't be so lucky the second time.

But another thing that was washing over him was exhaustion. The energy he miraculously gained throughout the night was dwindling, and it was hitting him hard. Within just minutes, he went from full of energy to hardly able to walk in a straight line. His vision was going in circles and he felt as if he had eaten some wincerberries from the Rain Kingdom.

He heard voices in his head, specifically Umber's. Memories he had almost forgotten chanted in his head, and he felt as if things were darting away in the corners of his eyes.

One exhausted step at a time, though, he moved forward. Just a few more minutes, he told himself. If I find Umber, then surely I'll get my energy back. Maybe the adrenaline will keep me awake. But as the few minutes' time was up, his legs finally gave out.

As he took in his last second of consciousness, he looked in front of him, only to see Umber looking down at him.

And then everything went black.

Author's notes: This chapter was definitely a rollercoaster, and it was really fun to write. Specifically Manticore's healing session. I really did like going in-depth of what every little movement meant in the world of psychology, because those are the things that therapists and people who question others in true crime actually look for. Anyway, everything else was also incredibly fun to write, including the first fight.

Another thing, my friends (and boyfriend) made me some art — specifically a sona, which I love so much. They all made one drawing, so three in total. One's a ref, one's a headshot, and one's a general drawing of him doing all of the things I like the most (eating, writing, a Dead by Daylight poster, a Saw movie laying off to the side, and a Red Queen book next to the graphicoll). I decided to name him Deuterium, Deuteria for short, since he's a Mud/Night hybrid. Deuterium is a chemical that brown dwarfs convert to helium, and that's their main energy source.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas!