The rest of the day was a blur. Winter was hesitant to return to his spot, after causing such a scene, but his mind urged him on. A pitiful voice. Glade noticed his return and talked with Umber. He didn't listen. He didn't want to listen. They were talking about how he was improving, weren't they? He needed no mind reader to understand. But it would be nice to have her around...
When dawn arrived, Winter hardly noticed. His eyes were shut; his buzzing mind was the only sign of life. To the dragons outside, he was nothing more than a living corpse. You are one, Winter. Don't act like you aren't shambling around, hardly a word in your snout. Your fierceness is hidden. Your honor was lost. They all see that, Winter. You have nothing to hide. His head rose, a sharp movement which retaliated with a blistering headache. Claws touched his scales as he felt for the pain, only to release it in moments.
He deserved the pain. He was the reason the journey was delayed. Do you know how many days you have left? Were you ever right on your estimates? You were never good at telling the time. Winter took in the sights around. They were unchanged, holding an assortment of items to presumably ease a dragon. Soft objects, entertaining objects. Padded floors for rest.
Umber and Glade were nowhere nearby; their voices had died down. The outside light crawled into his room as Winter paced around, his body sore. All pain on his wings were minimal, if not gone entirely, when he moved them. Still, he kept them folded. Were he to slip out right now, the dragons wouldn't notice, and he would escape Possibility undetected. You want to learn more about his life, don't you, Winter? Of course he did. Umber earned a peaceful, happy life. Perhaps your mistakes are the ones he avoided.
Winter knew those mistakes. Moonwatcher. Qibli. Abandoning his tribe. That was all; his visit to Jade Mountain was where everything changed. She helped you through your past. And he sacrificed it all for her. Not everyone has a happy ending. So why should he?
A shadow crossed the curtains. The door was peered into by Glade. Winter's scales fell stiff, as though they were deep in snow. There was a bright expression on her snout, where a sense of solemness wandered before. She approached him, causing him to back, the thin spines on his tail clinking as they moved. Glade only took a few paces into the room before stopping, allowing most of her body to be inside. "How are you feeling?"
Winter remained silent. He felt an answer in his tongue, the words swallowed by the reply in his mind. A sense of hopelessness. A sense of dread. You don't know, Winter. Admit it. The silence moved Glade to continue as Winter stood, lost in thought, unable to let his words out. "Umber told me a bit about you. I heard you didn't have the best relation with the academy, and I get that... The world can be scary sometimes. You don't know where to go or who to talk to. You don't know who you can trust. But the first step is to speak up."
She paused, like she expected Winter to say something. He remained quiet. She continued. "I'm here to check your wings. If they are healed. I'll clear you to leave. Is is alright for me to look or would you like me to get Umber?"
His wings shuffled. The last dragon he wanted to see in the room was Qibli... But Umber was a close second. Like lover, like crush... Glade saw his expression ease from a weary defense to a confused dragon. She went up and checked his wings, running her claws across the top of his wing skeleton, only going from the shoulder half-way up the first bend. Along the way, she asked if any of it hurt, to which Winter answered in his head. No. That's not where it hurts. He hated her touch, yet he couldn't move himself to push her away. You saw what happened last time, Winter. You can never push anyone away.
Glade finished her examination. She gave Winter a nod, remarking, "You should be good to fly. You can take more stops than normal for the next few days if you want to be safe, but other than that, you are good."
Her presence faded behind the curtain. Another dragon gone... When will you see her again? He was cleared. There was no need to see her. What about later? There was no later. Winter turned around, the sound of his spikes filling the emptiness of the room. He could leave. Why wouldn't he leave? You don't want to go. Weren't you harsh on him? Umber needed no apologies. He does. What did he do to you? Was it his fault he didn't see Qibli's flaws?
The curtain lifted like leaves as Winter pushed through, the calm atmosphere of the hut relaxing his muscles. An IceWing should be tense at all times, Winter. He traced his steps outside, glancing not once at any dragon he passed. They will all forget you, Winter. He wasted enough time in Possibility. What purpose did it have? He should have left days ago, not spending a moment. You have one chance to see her again. His wings beat slow as he lifted himself into the sky. Possibility was but a speck in his mind as he continued onward.
Turn towards the Kingdom and fly on. Possibility had confirmed his direction, at the very least. Winter recalled the maps of Phyrria strewn in Jade Mountain. He is a few days' flight away, Winter. You will see her soon. His mind was dulled by the repetitive thoughts, so much so that as the heat rolled in with the desert, he failed to notice his growing dehydration. Go on, Winter. A few days are left. When will the moon be full? A few days, at most. He had lost track of time. So much time, that he could no longer return. Were the celebration to pass, he would gift his life to the sun.
The encounter with Umber lit a fire deep in Winter's mind. He recalled the moments shared between him and Qibli; they kept returning, as though he wished to return to it. Remember the disgust. Remember the pain. Small moments guided Winter to abandoning his fake love towards Qibli. You were never in love with him, Winter. He made you believe otherwise. Smiles here and there. Calling him appealing names. He stepped on you. He wanted you. He would kill for you. He would kill Moon for you, Winter. Fly on. Don't look back.
Think of Moon. He couldn't. He simply couldn't. Qibli's scales were everywhere in the desert. Not a dragon flew by, yet the sand reeked of the gold of his scales. He hurt you. He would hurt Moon, too. Hurry up, Winter. He twisted his head up, eyes locked on the sky. Night will arrive before you. Where will you hide? Winter was a dragon. He didn't need to hide. He only needed to fly.
The day drew to a close and Winter gave way to his aching wings. You can't go up once you've landed. They will need to rest. His head burned as much as his wings; every scale on his body felt like melting. Another reason you should leave him behind. Winter folded his wings, staring down the dune he rested on. Water flowed beneath, allowing a few small huts to thrive nearby. Plants other than cacti or dense bushes were encircling the small beam of lights. A sip won't hurt.
Winter waited on the dune, pondering the idea. With a firm turn around, he refused. Would you stop breathing because he breathed in the desert? It was Umber's fault. Seeing him brought back the locked away memories repeat so often in his mind that they became dull. Of course you fell for him. Any dragon would. But you can't give in to him. It wasn't his own words which spoke back. It was Glade's. All Winter desired was the sight of Moon's scales- a sign that she was okay, that she was surviving... That she lived her life?
The lights beneath the dunes were becoming brighter as the desert darkened. Winter let himself fall to the ground, his breaths going in and out. The wings of the world opened as the Great Ice Dragon seemed to stare down at him, his eyes reflecting in the sliver of the moon. Winter returned the stare, locking with the thin shape as clouds pushed past. You will follow me, Ice Dragon, won't you? He communicated to the dragon without the interference of the tiny voice in his mind. It left me, for how long?
The desert seemed empty without it. An owl hooted, the sand shifted. His spines chattered in the gentle breeze. At last, temperatures fell. Stars lit up the sky. Winter listened to the empty night, hearing faint voices from the dragons who were still awake in the small village below. Their words were obscured by the distance. In the silence, Winter had a moment to reconcile; a moment to speak to himself. The memories he recalled of Umber and Glade were free of hostilities; his rage to Qibli had diminished, and his hopeless chasing for Moon quelled.
Winter lowered one of his wings, bringing it as far towards him as he could. It pushed sand out of the way, crafting a gentle noise which rose above the ambiance. Reaching his claws out, he felt the top of his wing frame. Nothing was out of the ordinary as he brushed his claws across, yet they left something inside him. He thought about the strange sensation, but his mind had left its answers long ago.
Perhaps he was the dragon to save himself.