“You
have been very kind,” Timenall said, “but my mouth is so dry I feel like I ate
a cottonwood tree. Could we get a bit of water to drink before I explain?”
“There
is a stream that way,” Farloft indicated with a nod of his head. “And a lake
that way,” He indicated with a raise of his paw.
“I know
the area, and I think the lake,” Timenall said. “I can soak these paws a bit.”
He looked down at the blood oozing from the tips of his swollen toes.
“Hungry?”
Farloft asked seemingly out of nowhere.
“Starving.”
Timenall answered.
“You
like those dapple coated things?” the young dragon asked.
“The klnicks?”
Timenall asked with a smile. “Lov’um.”
“I’ll
meet you at the lake.” Farloft backed up and spread his wings. “I’ll bring
dinner.” He smiled a toothy grin.
“I’ll
look forward to it,” Timenall replied, as he too spread his wings and they both
vaulted into the sky.
It
didn’t take Farloft long to find his prey and bring it down. He was ravenous by
the time he caught it, so he justified eating his portion before returning to
Timenall by thinking he was giving the gryphon mix some time to himself for
cleaning up. Besides, it made the load a lot lighter to carry.
He came
down at the edge of the meadow just as the moon began to rise. Timenall was
sitting on his haunches grooming himself like an over sized cat. He was licking
his hind leg stretched out way over his head.
“I’d
pull something if I tried that.” Farloft dropped the klnick on the ground close
to Timenall and waded into the lake himself. When it got deep enough he lowered
his head and swished his muzzle from side to side cleaning the blood off his
face and neck. Then he dipped his head under and brought it up again rolling
the water over his back and wings. He scraped his paws on the rocky bottom of
the lake. By the time he got out, Timenall had given up grooming and fallen on
the Klnick with gusto. There was little left except the bones and hide.
“Didn’t
they feed you?” Farloft asked, as he came out of the water. He shook the beaded
water off his wings and flicked each foot in turn to remove the access. Unlike
the hybrid he didn’t have fur or feathers to smooth or groom.
“Haven’t
eaten for at least a week.” Timenall drug his long pink tongue around his face
to clean the blood off. He licked his paw and washed his face with it. He
seemed like a very fastidious fellow. “They had no concept of what they
captured or what our dietary needs were.”
“There
are more of you?” Farloft’s ears pricked up.
“Not
exactly like me. I meant more gryphon.” The full moon cast a pale light over
the meadow they were in. Timenall settled down on his stomach taking the weight
off his injured paws. “I was
living with my father’s gryphon colony, the Neelands. My mother was a Forest
Night Dragon. She was killed by the Varda tribesmen many years ago,” the hybrid
explained.
“I’ve
never met a Forest Night Dragon.” Farloft said. He pawed at the remains of the
kill and found a tidbit left on a bone. “You mind?”
“Not at
all,” Timenall answered. “I owe you.”
Farloft
lay down and quietly gnawed on the bone as Timenall continued.
“A
Forest Night Dragon is rather small for a dragon – about my size. They are
nocturnal and my mother had the same coloring as I do. Nice camouflage for
night hunting.” Timenall absently licked at his injured paws. “My mother and
the gryphon colony shared this land. They coexisted well because when mother
was hunting the colony was asleep.
“It was
just one of those rare happenings that my parents met each other. Father was
trailing injured prey. He didn’t want to leave off even though it was past
nightfall. Mother followed the sound of the struggling klnick thinking she
would make an easy kill. Each was so focused on the prey they literally ran
into each other. To hear her tell it, it was just the most natural of things
for them to agree to share it. From that chance meeting their friendship and
later their love bloomed.” Timenall looked up at the moon. “When she was
cornered and killed father almost went insane with grief. His feathers mottled.
He lost so many he couldn’t fly. I hunted for both of us that summer. I was
still young, but a fast flier and a good hunter.” His eyes returned to his
paws. Farloft wondered if he was thinking he wouldn’t be that good a hunted any
longer, when Timenall continued. “He died the following winter. Some said it
was winter croup, but I know he just didn’t want to live without her.”
“I’m
sorry, but you had a clan,” Farloft offered.
“Yes, my
father’s colony was very tolerant of my odd mixed blood.” Timenall shook his
head. The feathers of his mane which fell between his eyes were symmetrical.
One white, one black-in the middle, and one grey. “But now they are all
prisoners of the Varda. The tribesmen intend to punish them until they will
submit to working as pack animals to transport them and their trade goods over
the mountain range. They determined riding a winged gryphon would be far easier
and faster than walking.” He licked at a paw. “I have to free my friends.”
Farloft
looked down at the mixed breed’s injured paws. “You can’t do anything until
those heal. In the meantime, we can work on a plan.”
“You’ll
help?” Timenall asked in surprise. This young dragon was remarkably agreeable.
He knew he didn’t have much of a chance without help now that he was declawed.
Teeth were effective, but claws gave you the reach you needed in a fight.
“Why
not? The Varda do not sound like people I would care to have as neighbors and I
have found myself a very nice lair not far from here.” Farloft cracked the
knuckle of the bone he was chewing and sucked aimlessly at the marrow. “I
intend to stay for a while. If the Varda would tackle a hybrid, they might take
a chance at trying for a dragon. I’d rather strike first.”
“Can you
breathe fire?” Timenall asked expectantly.
Farloft
took a deep breath and let it out with a flaming spew of fire. It was so hot it
succeeded in lighting the piece of bone in his paws as if it were a torch. He
smiled at the hybrid.
“I just
might have a chance of setting them free with your help,” Timenall said and for
the first time felt hope raise in his chest.
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