Creative Corner

@Shade

true D:

[img]http://i.imgur.com/0o3rtTR.png[/img] [size=1]@Maddiebird @skyeset @wakener @Adriel @Fuurin @Redwood @shadeofchaos @kryptica @Shade[/size] [right][font=book antiqua]Chapter 8 Sticks and Stones[/right] [font=book antiqua]“Get behind me,” whispered Golden Moon, ears swiveled forward and purple eyes wide in the perpetual twilight. She ushered them back with her long tail, horribly aware of how flimsy her long, snakey body was in front of them. To fight, she would have to move around, leaving the hatchlings unguarded. [i]What would Wild want me to do?[/i] Wild herself would fight, obviously, and probably win. But Wild wasn’t a flimsy little snake with legs and wings. And Wild was big enough to carry the hatchlings to safety if she had too. Golden Moon could hardly carry Hawilton, growing at the rate she was. [i]Shush, shush, shush.[/i] Rustling, right behind them. Golden Moon leapt around, ready to fight, but it was Red. The nocturne pup was murmuring under her breath, mimicking the sounds of the thing coming closer. Golden Moon changed her mind. “Run,” she said softly. Nobody moved. “I said RUN!” Too late, the creature was almost upon them, the crashing sounds deafening, and then- A lithe brown blur was all Golden Moon could see, but that was enough. It was a dragon, and quite a small one, too. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=29759804] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/297599/29759804_350.png[/img] [/url] [font=book antiqua]In a rush, Hawilton barreled forward, grabbing the runner. After a moment, Tia jumped in to help, gently putting down a large purple paw on the struggling blur’s chest, just firmly enough to hold him down. He squealed in distaste, hissing and clawing, but he was a young dragon with claws not yet sharp. They only just barely drew lines of blood on Tia’s leg. “Hey!” Golden Moon hopped into action, feeling somewhat stupid for sitting there while hatchlings handled everything. She paced over, trying to look fierce, coils twitching. “Who’re you? Where’d you come from? What’re you doing here?” “I am Fierce BloodSlasherMightyKillerStrongWingsScaryTeeth, and we are under attack,” he said. “What? Who’s attacking?” “The snakes,” he growled, squirming under Tia’s paw. “And the harpies. And if you don’t want to die you’ll let me go and fly for your life.” “Harpy,” said Red. Golden Moon drew in her breath sharply; there was no way that they could outrun a flock of harpies in the air. “Tia, let Fierce Blood-whatever go and come here,” she said, even though she knew it was hopeless. The small mirror with the large name skittered away in a flurry of leaves and dust. Golden Moon wrapped her paws around Tia’s chest and beat her three pairs of wings hard, but she was just too heavy. “I know a hiding place,” said the mirror pup quickly. Golden Moon hadn’t realized that he had stayed to watch. “The harpies won’t find us, and my pack’ll already be there.” Golden Moon wasn’t crazy about sharing hiding space with a pack of wild mirrors, but she would take it over dying in a beast attack. “Okay, where? How far?” “I’ll take you, but you have to do something for me,” grinned the small mirror, hopping from foot to foot. “Fine! Go!” The mirror took off. “Follow him,” cried Golden Moon, and took to the air, hovering over the hatchlings as they started to flee, Red sitting on Tia’s head. Once or twice they slowed and lost track of the mirror and Golden Moon had to try and get them going in the right direction. It was incredibly anxious work. After only a few minutes, the mirror stopped running and doubled back. Golden Moon, who was hopping through the lower branches trying to keep her eyes on both him and the hatchlings, almost shouted “Hey!”, but he looked up and held a claw to his mouth in a [i]be [/i]quiet[i] for the Shadowbinder’s sake[/i] sort of gesture. She glided silently down and he mouthed something chilling. “They’re overhead, above the trees,” he whispered, “And the snakes are really close, but we’re just outside the cave. Go get your friends and get them to quit making noise. I’ll wait here.” Sure enough, he was still there when she returned, Hawilton, Tia, and Red in tow. [i]Whatever he wants in return, it must be really important.[/i] But Golden Moon pushed those thoughts away. If they all got away safely, they would owe the small mirror with the big name their [i]lives[/i]. The mirror was leading them down a slope, onto a pebbly beach near a frothing waterfall. The river surged and roared nd sprayed up great quantities of mist, making the stones slick and slippery but hopefully muffling their scents and sounds. “This way,” said the mirror quietly. He turned and walked headlong into the mossy rock wall, disappearing into a crevice. It took a few moments for Golden Moon to see it, hidden as it was among the fallen boulders and dripping clumps of moss and ferns. It looked dark, cramped, and dangerous. Not for the first time, she paused to wonder if this really was the best idea. Anything could be in there, ready to pounce and kill them. Would it be better to run away from this dark, wet gully and find their own hiding place. “Harpy,” said Red, staring up at the sky. Wingbeats could be heard faintly over the roar of the waterfall, and Golden Moon shivered. Harpies were one of the most cantankerous, nasty creatures she had ever known. She had only ever faced a lone bird, downed and separated from its flock, but it fought fiercely and without mercy. A whole flock attacking would surely spell horrible death. She took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air, and walked into the crevice, her trail of hatchlings following close behind. ~ It was like stepping into another world. It was bigger than Golden Moon expected, but just as cold and wet. The pebbles beneath her paws turned slick and slimy with some kind of algae, and the jagged, rocky walls and ceilings gleamed wetly in the faint light from outside. “Keep your head down, Tia,” she whispered. The stalactites reaching down from the ceiling down could knock a dragon’s head off. Here and there, glowing mushrooms like the ones up in the woods made small circles of heatless light. The mirror was sitting by one, the illumination throwing his face into skull-like silhouette. “They won’t find us here,” he said, quite calmly. He spoke normally, but he sounded so loud in the quiet that they all jumped. “Okay, then,” said Golden Moon hesitantly. “What is this place, uh, Fierce MightyBloodSlasherKiller… something? And why did you save us? And where’s your pack?” The mirror laid his head down on his brown, overlarge paws and sighed, looking dejected. “This is the cave of souls, where spirits talk to my pack. They were supposed to be here.” “Souls and spirits.” Red repeated in awe. “What are souls, Goom?” asked Hawilton. “Hush, hatchlings!” said Golden Moon, annoyed. “Could they maybe be somewhere else? Like another cave like this? Or maybe they’re still at their lair, hiding there? Or hiding someplace else?” “No.” “Oh.” “And my name isn’t really Fierce BloodSlasherMightyKillerStrongWingsScaryTeeth,” he added. “But it will be. Soon.” “What about now?” “It’s Stick.” Tia laughed, and Hawilton stepped on her paw. “My mom calls me Stick because I’m brown and skinny,” Stick went on. “But when I get my real name I’ll have the fiercest name in the world entire world! I’ll be Fierce BloodSlasherMightyKillerStrongWingsScaryTeeth, and my enemies will be dead before they can say it all!” Golden Moon glared at her brood, trying to stop the giggles of the hatchlings while stifling her own. “I’m sure you will,” she finally said. “When?” “In only two more months,” Stick said proudly. “I’m almost a whole year old.” “Still little.” Red said it quietly, but the close confines of the cave snatched her voice and bounced it around them in the dark. She chuckled nervously and ducked behind Tia as Stick glared at her. “That’s rude, Red. How long will we be here, Stick? Will they go away or hang around here? They might stay if they saw us, do you think they saw us? Maybe-” “My name’s not Stick.” “But you just said it was?” “No. That isn’t what I [i]meant[/i],” huffed the mirror. “I mean don’t call me Stick. I hate it. It’s dumb.” “Stick it’s dumb!” cackled Red. “So we should call you Fierce Bloodspillerkiller- your name? I can’t remember your name, sorry, it’s really impressive though- maybe we could call you Fierce for short-” “Not-Stick. I’m Not-Stick.” “Yeah, you’re not Stick, you said that!” “No, stupid slithery dragon! I’m Not-Stick! That’s my name!” “Oh.” How creative. “Okay, Not-Stick. How long will we be here, then? Will they go away-” “I heard you the first time,” scowled Not-Stick. “I’m not empty-headed like you. I’m the smartest dragon in the whole world! And we should stay for at least a day. To make sure they’re gone. And then,” he grinned craftily, “You can finish your end of the deal.” Golden Moon rolled her huge eyes in the dark and sighed. She had forgotten all about the deal. “And what do we have to do for you?” “Name me.” “What is it with you and names?” she groaned. “Can’t you just choose a name you like and stick to it?” “That isn’t how it works in my pack. You have to get someone to choose your name for you when you turn a year and a half old. Then you have to come here and wait for the spirits to approve your name. And nobody in my pack would choose the name I want. They would choose something [i]traditional[/i] and boring, like Edelweiss.” “E-del-weiss,” said Red slowly, savoring the new word. Not-Stick scowled at her. “See, even the annoying bat-thing doesn’t like it! It was my grandmother’s name, and I’m supposed to have it since she died, to carry on the names of the spirits, or something.” Golden Moon personally thought that Edelweiss was a wonderful name, but it didn’t especially suit Not-Stick. It was more of a girl dragon’s name. “So you want me to just tell them that your name is- thing, and that’s that?” “Yup.” “Right.” Golden Moon didn’t like the sound of trying to tell a pack of mirrors what to do. “How long are we in here again?” “A day, at least. Make sure they’re all done with their migration or whatever they’re doing. Get comfy.” Not-Stick slid away into the dark, then returned pulling a clump of furs in his teeth. “Here.” Then he vanished. “Hey, get back here!” Golden Moon called into the dark, wings drooping at the thought of being alone with the hatchlings down there. “Come back!” “I’m not going to sleep with [i]you[/i],” came the voice, faint and echoey from somewhere far away. “I’m going to look for my pack. If they’re in trouble and I save them they’ll do whatever I want!” “I’ll help you look [i]later[/i]! Come back!” No reply. Just the slow dripping of unseen water. “Okay, then, you guys, c’mere. Nothing to be scared of.” She said, trying to sound cheerful about the situation. The mirror would be fine, surely. He was fierce and knew the forest. “Not scared,” grumbled Hawilton, but came anyway, nestling into the hollow under Golden Moon’s wing. “I like [i]dark.[/i[” “Me too.” Tia added. “Me too!” Red squealed from her perch on Tia’s head. “Slithery dragon.” “Humph. Go to sleep, now.” “Hungry,” hissed Hawilton, but shut her eyes anyway.[/font] ((i'm sorry for the wait D: ))

[img]http://i.imgur.com/0o3rtTR.png[/img] [right][font=book antiqua]Chapter 9 Eternity[/right] [center] @Maddiebird @skyeset @wakener @Adriel @Fuurin @Redwood @shadeofchaos @kryptica @Shade[/center] [font=book antiqua]The brown mirror still hadn’t come back, hours and hours later. The walls dripped with pure water, but food was scarce. The lichen that grew on the walls was slimy and bitter, and Golden Moon was too cautious to leave the cave. “When?” asked Tia. “Soon.” “Hungry.” “Eat some lichen.” “Gross.” “There’s no other food.” Hawilton growled under her breath. Tia was being annoying. Hawilton didn’t like this. It was awful down in the caves. It was dark, and no [i]food.[/i] “When?” Tia persisted. Hawilton put her paws over her ears. “I don’t know, Tia, I’m sorry. Try to fall asleep,” sighed Golden Moon. “We should go help,” growled Hawilton from where she was sitting, away from Tia. “Not sit.” “I want to, but we can’t. It’s dangerous.” The spiral seemed unusually short-tempered. “Now hush.” “I want to [i]go[/i].” “No.” There was a sound of rasping scales as Golden Moon’s coils shifted and moved over each other. “Um… I could tell you a story.” “Stor-y,” chirped Red. “This is a story about the beginning of time.” “In the beginning of time, a great chaos rang out in the darkness, shining brilliantly in the form of a billion small star fragments. Amidst the emptiness, a handful of these shards combined and churned themselves into a series of heavenly bodies, quietly floating around a young sun…” ~~~ “Chaos billion astronomic shards wispy heavenly behemoths calculating…” Red hummed in her sleep. The words carried the flavors of other worlds, of places far beyond the misty dark woods. Hawilton pondered them as she lay curled against Tia’s massive purple side. The idea of deities scared her a little, but also excited her and gave her a sense of purpose. If the slithery, calculating Shadowbinder had created her, she could do no wrong, couldn’t she? Just another perfect shadeling. She didn’t feel like a perfect shadeling, though. She felt alone, even with Tia’s tail curled around her feathery body. She was afraid of the cave, and of the beasts, and of Not-Stick never coming back. She was scared of where their journey was going, to the north, to the mountains and the Pillar. She did not feel brave or smart, like a shadow dragon should. What had Not-Stick said? [i]This is the cave of souls, where spirits talk…[/i] Did that mean the Shadowbinder? Maybe if she could talk to the Shadowbinder, she could ask for help. And then she would be able to tell everyone what to do, even Golden Moon. They would be proud of her. “Shadowbinder?” she whispered out into the dead darkness. Ears straining, she waited, but there was no reply. She stood up carefully, stumbling over Tia’s tail. Maybe she needed to go deeper into the caves. She started to whimper, but quickly stopped. She [i]would[/i] be brave. As soon as she stepped away from Tia, the rest of the world seemed to be gone, and Hawilton was the only one left, floating in the abyss by herself. “Binder?” she whispered, the echoes stealing her voice and bouncing it over the walls. No reply. “Shadowbinder?” Deeper still, into the earth, she went. Underneath her feet the loose, slippery stones pushed her paws one way and another, the tiny clunks of the displaced stones echoing for minutes at a time. Light, day, sun, and even moon had no meaning in that place. It seemed that time stood still, and all that was moving was Hawilton, stumbling through the dark. After a while that felt like hours but was probably just minutes, Hawilton stopped. She had been afraid all along, of course, but now it was rising to a fever pitch, a window left open blowing icy cold air into her soul. She denied it to herself, not wanting to give in to fear. [i]I'm not scared. Besides,[/i] she told herself, [i]this place feels right.[/i] “S-s-s-shadowbinder, please,” she spoke, out loud, her voice shattering into a thousand echoes. Her small hatchling stammer sounded pathetic in the face of this darkness. [i]shadow shadowbinder binder binder shadowbinder shadow please binder please shadow[/i] “Shadowbinder, I’m lost.” [i]lost lost lost lost lost lost[/i] The echoes sounded as if they were taunting her. ~~ Vieve had been watching the spunky brown mirror closely as he stumbled through the bushes, seeking his pack. She liked him; there was a dragon with spirit and potential, just the sort to be in her clan, once he got a little quieter and gained some common sense, that is. For what seemed the millionth time, she wished she could reach through the in-between, paper thin veil that seemed to separate her from the living and make herself heard, which again brought her back to why she was there in the first place. Why was she still here, on Sornieth? Why not someplace else, with her great Shadowy Mother, forever hunting like the stories said? Not once since her death had she seen a trace of another spirit or specter or whatever she had become, which was infinitely frustrating and also terrifyingly lonely. Would she remain behind forever, even after Hawilton and Golden Moon and Tia and Red were dead and gone, on through the years, on and on and on and on, nobody to speak to, no corporeal body to call her own, just… existing? What would [i]happen[/i]? She hated to think about that, so she brought her mind back to the promises she had made to herself, seeing all of Sornieth’s wonders up close, hidden caves, magic places secreted away, deep oceans, high mountains too high for even dragons, all of that at her disposal to see and linger there for as long as she liked, her own paradise. But her thoughts kept going back to the most painful thought of all: Would she ever see her family again? Her mate, Razor, and all their precious hatchlings? All of her life, she had harboured the belief that everyone would meet again one day in death and be together in peace forever, hunting with the Shadowbinder, but now that obviously wasn’t so. Where were they? Were they in some other place? Would she ever be able to see them, or were they lost to her, forever and ever? And to Vieve, forever and ever was a very, very, very long time. She sighed, inside her head, for she had no lungs to sigh with, and turned her attention to Not-Stick, as he’d insisted on calling himself. He was following the scent of his pack like a real mirror, every muscle tuned in to not making a single sound, watching and listening to everything. Vieve concentrated on the muscles moving under his scaly skin, awkward and funny-looking on his scrawny body, but obviously strong, and tried to remember what it was like to have muscles. And scales. And a body. It probably felt [i]wonderful[/i]. Vieve flicked back to the caves. Despite her admiration for the scrawny brown mirror, she was pretty peeved about how he had seeming just forgotten about Hawilton and the rest. They didn’t know it was safe to come out, so they were stuck in the caves, and from what Vieve could tell, it was cold and wet. She couldn’t feel cold or wet, not anymore, but anyone could hear the complaints of the hatchlings clear as day. She settled down next to where they were curled, Golden Moon trying to keep the rest warm. Tia was barely small enough for the spiral to curl around. Vieve almost liked being by them in the dark. That way, she couldn’t see the way that their eyes looked straight through her, or the fact that she had no snout to look down. She could just listen to their breathing and talk and imagine that she was alive and among them. “Hawie,” said Tia. It was a moment before Golden Moon stirred, her scaly coils slithering over the wet earth. “Hawie’s right here,” she said sleepily. “Go to sleep. The sooner you do, the sooner Not-Stick comes back.” “Hawie,” insisted Tia. “Where?” “Lost,” said Red. “Lost.” Vieve cast her gaze all over the pile of scales and wings, but purple and white and brown Hawilton was not there. “What do you mean, Red?” Golden Moon was asking. “Hawie is lost?” “I’m lost.” “You’re lost?” Vieve didn’t wait for the bat dragon to speak clearly. She glided frantically off into the darkness to find Hawilton, even though she had no way of guiding the little dragon back. ~~ One flaw Vieve had was that, even though she could go anywhere quick as a wink, she couldn’t go to places that she didn’t know. She didn’t know where Hawilton was, so Vieve had to search just like any mortal dragon, rushing through the caves like an icy breeze. She had never been to these caves, so she had no idea of what was deep inside. Every horrible story she had ever heard about monsters living in caves, supernatural magic more powerful than any dragon, demons, the mutants from the plaguelands, and maybe even the Shade itself, sprang to mind. [i]That’s ridiculous,[/i] she scolded herself. [i]If the stories about an afterlife weren’t true, why should those monster stories be true?[/i] She flew on, darting through the dark. No light, no sound, no body, she felt as if she really were dead and gone from the world. She shook those thoughts away and went on, looking, calling out for Hawilton even though she had no voice. The helpless feeling weighed on her like a massive rock. What could she do, if she found Hawilton? What could she possibly do to help? [i]Nothing, that’s what. I’m useless.[/i] It felt terrible, worse than dying, worse than her family dying, this helplessness. Vieve was a dragon of action, a fighter and a firebrand. She always wanted to help the needy and do the right thing, but now she couldn’t. There were no bonds to struggle against, no captors to escape, she just simply couldn’t do ANYTHING. Still, she searched on.[/font] I'm sorry, that took AGES to get out! I apologize, I've been really busy with play rehearsals :( I promise that the next chapter WILL be out tomorrow or the day after that! No more slacking for me :)

@IanLeStraud

Thank yoouu ^w^ I'll add you!

@AmTim I love your story! Can I be added to the pinglist? c:

@CheshireGrin14

course!

[img]http://i.imgur.com/0o3rtTR.png[/img] [size=1]@Maddiebird @skyeset @wakener @Adriel @Fuurin @Redwood @shadeofchaos @kryptica @Shade @IanLeStraud @CheshireGrin14[/size] [right][font=book antiqua]Chapter 10 Time and Space[/right][font=book antiqua] “Shadowbinder, I’m lost,” said Red gleefully. “Lost, lost, lost, lost, please, binder, shadowbinder, lost please shadow lost binder shadow binder lost-” “Enough!” yelped Golden Moon. The little batlike dragon was being incredibly frustrating. Golden Moon hated losing her temper, but it was hard. Hawilton was missing, Tia was crying, and Red kept babbling nonsense about the Shadowbinder. It was enough to drive a dragon made of stone into a frenzy. Red finally snickered and was silent. Golden Moon sighed loudly and turned to Tia, who was whining quietly. The purple hatchling was astonishing, what with how fast she grew. Golden Moon could swear that the guardian had grown at least a few more scales long since they that morning. “It’s okay, Tia,” she said, somewhat awkwardly, putting a paw on the guardian’s blue wing. She was out of practice with hatchlings, since- No. She wasn't going to think about that. “Hawilton will come back. We’ll find her and she’ll be okay. Do you want to hear the story about the Eleven again?” “No, Goom,” said Tia dolefully. “Where’s Hawie?” “Away somewhere,” said Golden Moon. She paused. “And don’t call me Goom. I’m… Goldie.” “Goldieeeeeee,” chirped Red from somewhere very close to Golden Moon’s face. “Gol-[i]duh[/i]-ie,” said Tia, trying out this new sound. “Goldie.” “Help!” cried Red. “What? Red, are you okay?” Golden Moon jumped away from Tia, ready to help the bat-dragon, but Red was fine. Her dim shape was just visible in the darkness, perched on a rocky stalagmite, unhurt. As Golden Moon watched, she cocked her head and blinked her large, luminous blue eyes. “Help me, Goom,” she said, and it was in Hawilton’s voice. Golden Moon remembered how Red had heard Not-Stick coming through the woods before any of them. She heard the beasts first, too. When Golden Moon had lost track of Not-Stick as he lead them into the caves, Red had been able to hear his footfalls and lead them into the dark safety of the caverns. And now she heard Hawilton’s cries, when no one else’s ears were keen enough. “Stay here! Don’t move, Tia, I’m coming back soon!” Golden Moon ordered the hatchling, then fled into the darkness in search of her charge. ~~ Almost as soon as she started, Golden Moon stopped. How could she possibly figure out where Hawilton was? And not smash her head into a stalactite in the process? She didn’t even know where the echoes had come from. “Goldieeeee,” whispered a voice in her ear. Golden Moon yelped with fright, before she realized that it was Red. “Goldie?” came a cry from somewhere behind her. “Goldie?” It was Tia. “It’s okay, Tia!” Golden Moon called back. “Stay there! Just stay!” “Okay, Goom,” Tia said anxiously, and Golden Moon didn’t bother to correct her. “Goom,” cackled Red, and jumped onto Golden Moon’s head, claws wrapped around her overlarge ears. “Lost,” she whispered. “Red? Red, where are the echoes? Where did they come from? Show me.” asked Golden Moon. She didn’t know if the Red would understand, but she had no other ideas as to find Hawilton. “Lost, lost, lost, lost, lost, lost, lost, lost,” sang Red, and hopped down from Golden Moon’s head into the darkness. “Oh- Red! Stop!” “Lo-ost,” came the singsong voice, Hawilton’s voice echoed in Red’s mouth. Golden Moon took a few steps toward it, and was rewarded with a gleeful chirp. “Lost, lost, Hawie’s lost.” “[i]Where,[/i] Redwood?” cried Golden Moon in frustration. “Show me.” “Hey get back here come back!” Crowed Red. Golden Moon shivered. That was [i]her[/i] voice and [i]her[/i] words that Red spoke. “You want me to follow you? To come?” “Back here!” “I’m coming, Red” she said out loud, but in her head she said, [i]I’m coming, Hawilton[/i]. ~~ When Golden Moon first came to the clan of Untamed and Wild, she had fallen quickly in love with a dragon named Hope. It was a sweet, summer romance, fueled by the beautiful sunny days and the scent of jasmine on the breeze, the bountiful harvests and easy hunting, and the stillness of the summer nights. He wasn’t very handsome. His scales were gray and white, striped with dull orange, and his mane was coarse and tufty. He wasn’t particularly smart, or strong, or good at hunting or fishing or fighting, but he was kind and gentle and loved to care for the more friendly animals in the territory, and he sang like a bird. And most important of all, he was full of hope, just like his name. Hope’s father, by the name of Shrine, was much keener than his son. He knew how to sense the energy in the air and read omens on the wind, how to tell what other dragons were feeling and how to receive the subtle impressions that lingered in a place long after dragons had left. One lazy day in the summer of Hope, Shrine taught Golden Moon how to use that gift. And kept teaching her, all the way through to next spring, until she was almost as good an energy reader as he. Now, the further she went into the caverns, the more obvious the bad, bad energy was. It hung thick and choking in the dark, like smoke in a cave with no chimney. Something bad happened here. “Hawilton?” whispered Golden Moon. “Are you there?” “Sssss,” hissed Hawilton, and jumped into Golden Moon. She fell backwards to the cave floor. “Hawilton! Are you okay? What happened? Why do you smell like snakes?” Golden Moon tried to push the hatchling off of her, but little claws held tight to her neck. “Ow! Let go!” “The sakes came!” exclaimed Hawilton, squirming. “Tried to get me but I whacked it and it ran!” “That’s good, Hawilton, you’re very brave,” said Golden Moon distractedly, trying to see through the dark. “How many snakes, do you think?” “I dunno.” Hawilton had her face buried in Golden Moon’s scarf, and her voice was muffled. “Didn’t see. Came real quick.” “And where did they go?” The little paws clenched on Golden Moon’s neck. “There,” she whispered, raising a small paw to point towards where Golden Moon had come from, towards Tia. “Sorry! I tried to fight ‘em!” “It’s okay, Hawilton, you were really brave.” ~~ Oddly, it made Tia think of lightning. She had seen lightning for the first time hours earlier. She remembered watching from under a tree as bright bolts split the sky in the distance. She had been scared and in awe of this power that could be felt clearly in the air, buzzing under her scales and leaving behind its sour smell. She remembered how, after the storm had blown quickly over, they had come across a tree that had been hit. It was blackened and twisted and heat was still burning deep in the ravaged wood, and Golden Moon had explained that same same thing could happen to a dragon, which is why they should never, ever fly in a storm. Tia had been quiet after that, imagining what it would be like to have that power surge through you in its search for the ground. She felt that now, the shock of the strike, the lancing of flaming pain that surged down to her claws and up her wings and slowly faded away, leaving numbness in its place. She could smell it, too, a toxic dry stench in her nose, choking her. “Tia?” Tia hadn’t realized that her hearing was fuzzy until she heard Golden Moon’s voice. There were no other sounds down in the caves to compare it with. “Goom.” No. Her mouth was fuzzy. Couldn’t talk. How would Goom know where she was? Something was coming closer, slithering, scales on stone. ~~ Blair hummed his spells and charms, dancing nimbly around the sickbed. He cut a terrifying figure in the firelight, feathered and gaunt and slithery. The eyes of the injured hatchie gazed up, dimmed by the fever, while her family was held spellbound. He came down from the dance very deliberately. He took his time slowing his steps, easing his jerky movements into smooth, sluggish ones like that of a snake’s, then stopping entirely. He finally slid onto the earthen floor and lay there, apparently exhausted, for a full minute. The family of the stricken hatchie did not move, just waited and stared, unsure if the chant was over, too much in awe to ask. [i]Hah.[/i] Putting on a drained and tired face, Blair soon rose, carefully drawing in his wings as though they ached. “Dribble this goop on the hatchie’s wound, sunrise and sunset, [i]every[/i] sunrise and sunset, don’t ye miss one, ‘til the vial is empty. It will heal.” He handed them a small glass bottle full of thick liquid. The father reached out to take it as the mother gently picked up her hatchie, and a pouch of coins was produced from under a wing. Blair accepted it with a tired smile. “Thank ye for yer business, travelers,” he said, and turned away to slowly head towards a curtain. “Shadowbinder be with ye.” “You as well,” said the father, and with deep bows, they exited the tent, the mother carrying her little one and the siblings trailing close behind. Blair lifted the flap to watch them leave, poorer than they had entered, and chuckled. He was no swindler; the potion was indeed potent and would lift the infection within days. He was one of the best healers in the Wood; all the dancing and muttering was only to add to his reputation. He took pride in his reputation, preened it and fluffed it as much as he did his patchy feathers. And of course, silly superstitious dragons like [i]them[/i] always pay [i]much[/i] more if they think magic is on their side. Ha. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=27632696] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/276327/27632696_350.png[/img] [/url] He snickered a little and tossed the pouch behind the curtain that divided the public and private areas of his tent and began to rummage through the bunches of dried herbs he kept, taking stock. His snout twitched. He smelled snakes on the breeze that drifted under the sides of his tent. They were upwind, the scaly fools. No fighting sense. Within minutes, the tent was packed up and his belongings pulled into a bundle on his back. He didn’t fly away, though, but remained watching the ferns. No sane Serthis would travel through dragon territory without a harpy escort, and he didn’t fancy meeting them in the air. The smell was stronger and he could hear rustles and the scraping of scales; it was time to go. He turned and trotted quickly away into the undergrowth, favoring the juniper bushes where the smell would mask his own. “Wait,” came a voice, strained and low. Blair glanced over his shoulder but did not stop. “Wait, please!” “Shut up, ye’ll bring down the harpies on us,” he hissed. “Now show yerself instead of skulking about in the shrubbery like a snakey beast.” A spiral emerged from the ferns. On her back was a limp guardian hatchie, almost as large as herself, and she was almost crying with frustration. “What’s this, lassie?” Blair stopped, turned to face her. A pair of round glasses perched askew on her snout and magnified her already prominent eyes, and the tears glittering within them. “Serthis got her, their poison,” said the spiral despairingly. “I don’t know if she’s okay or not. I smell herbs on you, you’re a healer, or you were just with one, am I right? Am I?” Blair sighed. “Fine, o smart ‘n loud one. Ye’re damn lucky I’m here, I’m the best herbalist around. But we need to get to a hiding place, eh?” “Okay, okay, where? I don’t know if we can get back to where I came from, at least until the beasts leave, and I don’t know how long they’ll hang around-” “I know a place. Quit your babble now or we’ll be chewed up by birdies before ye can blink. We’ll discuss my fee later.” Blair didn’t know a hiding place. But he was good at finding them. It came from being a shadow dragon, he figured. A natural talent for stealth. “[i]Fee-[/i]” “Quit yer babble, do ye want to die today?” The spiral hissed oaths under her breath (they sounded like windy curses, despite her shadow eyes) but followed Blair into the juniper bushes. “..get you safe, Tiamat.” Blair heard the spiral whispering to the hatchie. The hatchie’s name was Tiamat. Blair mulled the name over in his head, considering it, trying to remember what it meant. He had heard the name somewhere before, he knew not where, but it made him ache. The sound of the name suffused him with a deep, unshakeable feeling of loss. ~~ Down in the darkness somewhere else, Hawilton cried. [i]Stay here, don’t leave, no matter what,[/i] was what Golden Moon had told her. Hawilton didn’t want to stay. She wasn’t scared, she told herself, just worried about Tia. “Shadowbinder?” she asked the darkness. “Shadow?” “Tia’s sick. The sakes got her. Can you help?” ~~ [i]Aha.[/i] “Come, ye, this way, under here.” Blair ushered the spiral and the unconscious hatchie (he didn’t want to think of her as Tiamat, it confused him too much) into an opening in a hillside. His keen nose told him it was abandoned long ago; sheer luck had caused him to spot the entrance, concealed under the roots of a great fallen tree. “Put ‘er here, hurry.” As he rummaged through his herbs, he felt something sharp on the back of his neck. He turned, but the points dug in, painfully. The spiral’s claws were clasped around the back of his throat, right at the arteries, ready to tear him. She knew her anatomy. “Do anything but heal her and you die.” The spiral’s voice was shaky but fierce. He could tell she meant it; her eyes were scorching a hole on his back. He cursed himself, how could he be such an idiot, assuming she was just a dumb spiral? [i]Never let down your guard, unless you have a death wish,[/i] that was the first thing a hatchie was supposed to learn, in his family, at least. Then, he saw an opening, lifted a paw and jabbed, poking her lean stomach, just enough to hurt. He smirked as her eyes widened in fear. “Not unless ye wish to join me in death, spiral.” She sucked in a breath, clearly scared, and withdrew her claws. [i]Hah.[/i] “Truce, then, but if you harm her I swear you’ll die. I swear on- on Drift, my first hatchling.” Blair removed his claws, as well. “No need for oaths, lass, I know what I’m doing,” he snorted, and began rummaging through his kit for the medicines he would need. The spiral was quiet for a moment, then added quietly, “Jadeitite and Var, my others, I swear on them too, I do.” She needn’t have bothered. In a few moments, Tia stopped breathing. Somewhere far across time and space a ghost named Vieve screamed.[/font] ((I am s o s o r r y to come back from hiatus and greet you all with this... thanks rngesus [img]https://i.snag.gy/u1oinW.jpg[/img]))

@KitchenSink
Oh no
Oh no