While Fia hung nearly upside down from the arena cage, the terror birds had collapsed into burning piles. The announcer proclaimed her victory. “Favilla the dragon wins!”
She dropped from the cage, flipped in the air, and tossed out her wings to glide back down. Unexpectedly, her body careened dangerously to one side which caused a yelp to slip past her jaws.
My wing…! The wind whistled past the hole in the leathery flap. Fia beat her other wing fiercely to even out. Her partially broken tail did not work the same for balance anymore. Once she was close enough, she fluttered her wings rapidly to tap safely onto the ground.
The crowd was cheering so loud, Fia could hardly think.
Umbra. Naturally, she remembered him—the one who had guided her to victory against the terror birds. Fia approached the nearest corpse.
Unfazed by the flames, she worked her jaws to snap off the bony, lower leg. Next, she carved around the hip joint with her claws. Fia yanked the meaty thigh off the terror bird. Before the guards could do anything to tell her otherwise, she dashed back to the gates.
The crowd was cheering all the while. A number of people sounded angry in their yells for some unbeknownst reason.
Sheepishly, Fia slipped past the doors and scampered over to the benches. She dropped the more-or-less cooked meat at Umbra's feet.
His heavy lids lifted a little along with a marginally happier tail. I didn’t think you would survive. Good job.
Beaming, she nuzzled the drumstick closer to him. Thank you so much for your help! This is for you.
For me? Umbra seemed shocked with one claw lifted off the bench. His prideful nature made him hesitant to accept, but his pragmatism quickly won over. Greedily, he ripped the meat off the bone.
The outermost flesh had been charred too deep while the innermost had been left nearly raw—and everywhere in between. The large drumstick was the perfect snack for a dragon: crunchy on the outside and bloody on the inside.
Fia watched wryly and lamented the loss of her first real kill. Young as she was, she had yet to hunt for herself. Fia and Arenis had technically flushed out some rabbit warrens and munched on the residents, but those were too small to count. The adult dragons procured the large game available on the island for the entire clan.
The dragoness sat quietly, missing home, while the older dragon ate ferociously. The drumstick was stripped of meat. When only a few succulent bites remained, Umbra gave pause. He bumped the drumstick with the back of his claws. Have some. It's your own kill.
Fia recalled herself back to the present. Thanks! Before devouring the last bite of meat as eagerly as him, she said, I… want to be friends with you. You can have the rest if you’ll be my friend!
Umbra shifted his weight back and observed her with a humored light in his eyes for the first time. Perhaps, he droned with a roll of his eyes. I'll consider your offer if there's more food involved. But you finish that last bit.
Alright! Fia saw those terms acceptable. She caressed her tongue over the bloody juices to lap at the flavors. Slowly, she tore the flesh off and carefully sucked on it in her mouth before swallowing. Mm. So good!
Yeah, I know.
A spark alit in Fia's eyes. Finally, she realized that she did have something to offer him: the ability to roast his meat. Too giddy to think of a coherent idea, Fia beamed at the stoic, silent Umbra.
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After a while, he added, Thanks for the food.
The dragons regarded each other for a moment. Umbra cast his gaze past the bars, and Fia craned her neck to peer out.
Watch the fights, Umbra instructed. You can learn a lot that way.
Fia nodded and stared intensely. The fights carried on throughout the day, bringing her eyelids to droop lower after each one. Having won her battle, a monumental weight had lifted from her shoulders. The young dragoness was overcome by the need for a nap. Sleep was the best thing to help her wounds recover at this point.
Pay attention, Umbra snapped. This is how I knew the attack style of the terror birds.
Alright, she whined. When he put it like that, Fia owed her life to his diligent observation of these fights. She shook herself awake and continued to bear witness to the brutality. The dragoness never imagined that the sight of blood could come to sicken her so.
The last matches concluded when the sunlight aged into the afternoon. The surviving creatures were corralled back to their holding cells. Fia and Umbra walked together, orderly one after another. They did not fight the guards, nor did the guards feel the need to antagonize the two dragons.
As the metal door swung shut behind them, it grated against the stony ground. Previously, the metal had shrieked in Fia’s ears, but it now sounded almost soothing. The dungeon was perhaps the safest place for her in the humans' coliseum.
Exhausted, Fia lowered herself to the ground and buried her face beneath her talons and wings. “Ugh. What a long day.”
Umbra settled down in the corner to lick his wounds. Since Fia needed to do the same, she flicked her tongue out to brush the hole in her wing.
Swiftly, her tongue snapped back into her mouth. The bottom jaw began to waver. Fia broke down into tears, sobbing relentlessly.
It felt like she was entirely alone, given how Umbra deigned not to acknowledge her outburst. In his own way, that was probably a considerate response—simply allowing her to cry without disparaging her.
The gasps caught in her throat. She needed to calm down so that she could breathe, yet Fia could not manage that much. Her head grew light-headed as her breaths shortened.
Umbra got up with a huff. Carefully, he approached and leaned back on his haunches. His mind connected with hers, filling her head with his attempt at reassurance. It's a small hole. It will heal.
Yet it was still a hole. Even if the damage to her wing would heal, the scar tissue would be an inferior material. The integrity of her wing was forever damaged. At this rate, how would Fia become a flying ace with Arenis? She weeped harder.
Hey, Pinkie, Umbra insisted. I'm proud of you.
Her eyes widened, and the tears ceased. Fia lifted her chin to better regard the older dragon. You're… proud of me?
Yeah. Umbra winced as if it pained him to give her such a high compliment. You made a good choice in the arena. Better to let your wing take the terror bird's beak… than your face.
While Fia was not sure if this counted as a pep talk, it was true enough. I know….
Slowly, she let her gaze traverse Umbra's wings. He had been forced into that situation time and time again. New slashes ripped down his wings from the leo medusa's claws. Earlier today, Fia had witnessed those wounds take place.
A deep growl sprung from Umbra's throat. Don't you dare look at me with pity in those big, stupid eyes!
I wasn't…. Fia tried to say, except she was. There were no emotions but sorrow for the dragon who would never fly. Unlike the small hole in her wing, the lacerations in his wings were too severe to heal on their own.
Acutely aware of this fact, Umbra slung one of his shredded wings across the cobblestones. We'll never fly if we die anyway. I'm proud of my wings, so don't ever look at me that way again. His thoughts oozed with the unbroken pride of Umbra Caligo the dragon.
You should feel that way too, about that hole in your wing, he said. Stop blubbering about it!
Drawing in a deep breath, Fia extended her wing in front of her. The hole could be viewed positively, she supposed. Fia reiterated to herself, I did survive. Umbra's right. I have a lot to be proud of!