“Gadalik,” a familiar female’s voice softly sang.

The sleeping hybrid was roused by it, and before he even opened his eyes, the smell of blood reached his muzzle. It was perhaps midnight. “Gretel…?”

“Who else?” she giggled. “Come on, I saw something cool I want to check out.”

Gadalik sat up and looked at Glacia, who was still in her place guarding the mouth of their den, but was sleeping deeply; the physicality of their work on the garden must have taken its toll on her. The scent of blood was real however, and he faced his friend, frowning to see shallow gashes in her back presumably from a larger dragon’s claws. The wound was recent, but old enough that the bleeding had stopped. It hadn't been cleaned, though, and the drying blood was especially visible on her white scales. Before he could ask what happened, the young wyvern excitedly bounced out of the den, beckoning him to follow.

After giving his mother a gentle shake in an unsuccessful attempt to wake her, Gadalik braced himself and stepped outside. “Gretel, what's going on? What happened to you?”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I thought you weren't coming back…! And now you're hurt–”

“Wait–I told you I'd be back, didn't I?”

“Yes, but it's been three days...”

“Really? Huh. Guess I lost track of time. Speaking of time, we should go before we miss it!”

“Go? Where? And who hurt you–”

“I saw a glowing light on my way here,” she interrupted with an eager flicking of her tail. “It was a pretty turquoise color. I want us to go see what it is before it's gone!” The juvenile wind dragoness headed west, stopping a few paces ahead to beckon him again. “Hurry!”

Gadalik glanced back at his mother once more. He knew waking her when she was sleeping this heavily would take a while, and he also knew Gretel was impatient. After days of her unexplained absence, he feared losing her again, and ultimately ran after his friend.

She grinned happily to see him join her, and she set a brisk pace on foot that he could thankfully match. “Gretel, that injury looks bad,” he said quietly. “What--”

“Shh! It was this way. Come on." Gretel picked up her pace slightly, but again kept looking back to make sure the slower dragon wasn't left behind.

He recognized the splotches of blood on her from his vision, then hesitated. “I'm not sure this is a good idea…”

She stopped and turned to face him, confused. “What? It's just a light! Aren't you curious?”

“A turquoise light… from what?”

She shrugged. “That's what I want to find out.”

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“Gretel, it's the middle of the night, and I've never gone this far west before. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow, when Glacia and Guinevere are awake...”

“But it might be gone by then!”

“You don't understand,” he cried. “I had a vision before I went to sleep; we were being attacked in an unfamiliar part of the forest, and–”

“Eh, being attacked is nothing new to me. But if you don't want to go, you don't have to,” she said simply. “I'll come back in the morning and let you know what it was.” With that, she continued on her way to it.

“Wait!”

“What? Are you coming or not?”

“You still haven't told me how you got hurt...”

“I just did,” she replied casually. “I told you: being attacked is nothing new to me.”

He stared at her incredulously. Before he could think of what to say, she was leaving again. Gadalik shook his head and rushed to catch up with her. I can't let her do this on her own; she'll get killed!

She guided him beyond the thick of his familiar forest home and took flight, her hot pink eyes darting over the western forest ahead of them in search of the light. They gleamed and she let herself drop from the sky, cushioning her landing at the very last second with a controlled wind. “This way!”

Gadalik managed to keep up with her, but felt increasingly nervous the farther they went. The western forest had a completely different smell, and the reason why only deepened his fears: it lacked any scent of Guinevere. This forest isn't part of her territory… “Gretel, we should head back… If we get hurt out here, it's too far for Guinevere's antennae to locate us.”

The injured wyvern once again stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. “So? It's not like we haven't survived before meeting Guinevere.”

“I only survived this long without her because Glacia was there to protect me,” he argued, “and right now, neither of them are here...!”

“I'm here. Doesn't that count for something?”

He remembered his vision, wherein she had fled after he was attacked, and visibly tensed.

“Look, I'm not forcing you to go with me,” she turned on him impatiently, lashing her bloodied purple-striped tail. “If you want to go home, stop complaining and just go home already!”

The seer hybrid froze, stung by her uncharacteristic agitation. “It's not about me wanting to go home; it's about you not dying alone out here!”

Gretel rolled her eyes dismissively. “Do you know how many times I've almost died alone? I’m still alive, aren't I?”

“For how much longer?!”

“You worry too much.”

“Gretel, you tell me this as you stand there covered in your own blood,” he exclaimed, desperate to get through to her.

“I'm fine,” she assured him, and without waiting for him to protest, she kept going.

He cursed to himself and followed her out of sheer concern. When he caught up, the young dragons moved swiftly through this new territory, Gadalik staying protectively by her side. He was startled by the distant hooting of owls, and gasped through his clenched teeth when a bat swooped past him. The glowing pupils of nocturnal animals in the trees and bushes they passed made him question if the rustling leaves were from the chilly breeze or potential predators. He felt hot with anxiety despite the cool night air, and without Guinevere’s comforting scent, the forest felt alien to him.

When Gretel finally slowed down, he picked up on a new fragrance: something similar to the fairy dragoness, yet different. The hybrid peered around his companion, and to his surprise, he did spy a faint turquoise glow not far ahead of them.

The wyvern gave an excited bounce. “I'm gonna check it out,” she told him, and silently creeped toward it. Her control over the air surrounding her allowed the juvenile wind dragoness to stifle what would be the crunching of the cold, browning leaves below her.

Gadalik drew in a breath and crouched, doing his best to mimic her movements and stay quiet behind her. Gretel noticed and extended her ability to him as well.

The duo stopped and hid before a small clearing when they saw the source of the light: the wings of a male fairy type whose dark brown fur was scruffy, and gold underbelly matched his forward-curled antennae. The tips of his muzzle and limbs were white like Guinevere's, but unlike hers, the tuft on his spotted tail’s tip was wavy. His eyes were the same color as his wings, glaring up at a tree with his back to them.