Gadalik cast his gaze to the mountains southeast of the forest he resided in, this time focusing on their peaks. Everything seemed still, as usual, but Gretel’s words revealed the chilling reason behind it.

“Why would light dragons target earth- and wind-types?” he finally asked. It was hard to imagine that the large beasts on the mountaintops–known for their healing powers and their guidance of the lost–were killers.

“Nobody knows,” the young wyvern replied with a shrug, “and nobody can get close enough to ask them without being attacked.”

“Oh…” Maybe Guinevere might be able to tell me… I'll have to ask her later.

“So, what do you want to play?” Gretel changed the subject, her tail swaying eagerly.

“Oh–uh, what games do you usually play?”

“I improvise,” she admitted. Her hot pink eyes searched the area until she spotted something under the trees and perked up, flapping her winged arms just once to take flight before diving into the forest. Gadalik bounded after her, then recoiled halfway there when she popped back up with a pine cone between the teeth of her tapered muzzle. Gretel tossed it from her mouth to catch between her hind paws as she hovered. “Come on, grab some more!”

He had no idea what her plans were, but didn't pass up the opportunity to dig around. Once they had gathered a bunch, they went back to their rock on the northern outskirts of the forest. “Now what?”

“We have to keep the pinecones from touching the ground. If one touches the ground on your side, it's mine, and we'll use the next one. If it lands on my side, it's yours. Whoever has the most pinecones in the end is the winner,” Gretel decided.

“Hm… I'm in.”

They piled the cones on the sidelines and got into position: Gadalik stood before the trees, facing Gretel who had landed on their rock by the cliff. “A-a-and…start!” she exclaimed, tossing one pinecone into the air and then propelling it at him with a strong wind from her wings.

Instinct took over; the earth dragon hybrid batted it back at her with his large paw, his natural strength keeping it flying through the air at the swift pace she had set.

The young wind dragoness bared her fangs in a competitive smile and this time directed the pinecone far to his left instead of directly at him.

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Gadalik had ran to reach it, but managed to in time. Two can play that way, he thought, feeling his own lips draw back in a grin as he aimed it to her right and swatted.

Gretel squealed excitedly, chasing it down. She blocked it with her paw, but it ricocheted off of it; she fumbled until it dropped to the ground. “Wow, you're good!” she remarked, not hiding how impressed she was. “That's one for you. But it’s not over yet, and I'm just getting started!”

“Bring it on!” he challenged her playfully.

The two kept the game going for what felt like forever. One for her; one for him–one for him, one for her.

They were both exhausted by the time they realized they had gathered an even amount of pinecones, so there was nothing to break their eventual tie with, and they laughed.

“That was great,” Gadalik admitted, still smiling even though it was over. “I don't think I've ever played an actual game before.”

“Really?” Gretel was stunned by that news. “Then what do you normally do for fun?”

“Well… I love digging, and water, and wrestling.”

“Water?”

“Y-Yeah. My mom taught me to swim, but even before that, I liked splashing around in the shallows.”

“Your mom? Who's she? Can I meet her?”

“You already have–this morning. Her name's Glacia; she's the water dragoness.”

She stared at him, her hot pink eyes widening with surprise. Then she laughed. “Let me get this straight: you're a seer and an earth dragon…being raised by a water type?”

He shrank from how ridiculous that must have sounded to an outsider, but at the same time he felt the need to defend his upbringing. “I’m not a solitary type like you… I would be dead if it weren't for Glacia.”

Her laughter stopped and she took a second to process that. Then she stepped back and hung her head. “Sor-ry… I forget how helpless most types are on their own.”

Helpless…? Gadalik was somewhat offended to think of himself that way, but upon further introspection, he determined she wasn't exactly wrong.

“Us wind dragons can fly and make gusts with our wings from the day we emerge. If our parents stick around to teach us the harder stuff, great, but most of the time we can figure it out on our own.”

“What do you mean by ‘stick around’?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’? I meant what I said.”

“So your parents didn't stick around?”

“Duh.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you see them anywhere?”

He felt a pang of sympathy for her. “How did you survive as an egg without them?”

“You mean, like, from predators? Usually wind dragons just hide their eggs somewhere warm and safe. Maybe if it's cold, the egg won't survive without its parents, but nobody’s dumb enough to lay eggs in cold areas. If they happen to lay during winter, they’ll just migrate south and leave their eggs there.”

Gadalik was intrigued by how differently her type lived. He couldn't help feeling the least bit jealous of her independence and ability to travel. Seers can travel, too, he realized. The hybrid glanced back at his wings, which his father’s type didn't have. If my mom had such powerful wings, why aren't mine like hers?

“It's been fun, but I'm pooped, and getting hungry. So I'll see you tomorrow, okay?” Gretel prompted.

“Oh–okay,” he stammered, a bit disappointed that she wouldn't stay longer. “See ya.”

“Buh-bye!” The wyvern took flight, disappearing into the clouds.