“Galen was strong, too,” the young red-and-violet revealer murmured, his hazel eyes looking away. “He put up a good resistance to her constant reveals, but in the end, she won.”

Gretel sat forward, trying to understand. “Constant reveals…? Won? What do you mean?”

“His mother's… kind of a control freak. Galen couldn't do anything without her criticizing or interrogating him. She wasn't like that before he was hatched, though, so Gramps thought that maybe Galen’s gemstones played a part in it.”

“But you all have gemstones, right?” She caught sight of a red one on the back of his neck. “How do you know someone else wasn't making her mean?”

“Not counting my little brother–since he hadn't been born yet–Galen’s the youngest one in our family. Er, was… when he was with us. The rest of us were all old enough to control our gems at that time. And, believe me, nobody would make her mad on purpose.”

“Oh…”

“Gramps tried to talk sense into her multiple times; tried to keep the peace, but she never really stopped treating Galen like prey with her reveals. To his credit, Galen did tolerate it with his conceals for a very long time–until he finally reached a breaking point and willingly revealed just how he felt about her.”

Good on him! she thought proudly.

“That really made her mad…” he continued, and her heart sank. “She wasn't used to anyone standing up to her. At that moment she reclaimed his name and…”--there yearling hesitated as if to think of a way to phrase it in a hatchling-friendly term–“retaliated.”

“Like… physically…?” the baby wyvern guessed, tensing at the thought of her friend being in danger.

His cousin nodded. “Yeah. Hurt him pretty bad. Probably would have killed him if Gramps hadn't taken him away.”

“You said he's been gone a long time… Where did you think he was…?”

“Gramps came back alone and upset, so we all just thought he died out here.” The juvenile met the hatchling’s gaze. “But he's alive, isn't he…? If he is who you've mistaken me for, I mean…”

Gretel once again willed herself to be silent, not sure how to handle the situation. It's not my place to let anyone know his whereabouts… If his mother finds out he's still alive, she might finish him off. Given how strong his mother's reveals are, she'd probably get the truth out of her nephew if I did tell him, so it's better for everyone that I don't.

“...Sorry. You never did confirm it was Galen, so maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions,” the biped sighed. “Even if he did survive his injuries after Gramps took him away, I doubt he’d last too long out here alone, so it doesn't make a difference, I guess; he's dead either way.”

“Huh? Why wouldn't he survive?” she asked impulsively, then once again covered her mouth. I need to stop letting my curiosity get the better of me around revealers…

“Revealers never fare well on their own,” he answered, “especially when they're young, like Galen was.”

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“But if they know how to hunt, shouldn't they be okay?”

“Maybe physically. But social dragons aren't meant to be alone; isolation can hurt them just as much as hunger–maybe even worse.”

The wind type hatchling’s hot pink eyes studied the ground as she took this in, remembering Efron’s sorrowful melody.

“And if he is alive, then I'm horrible for never looking for him all this time…” The young revealer’s eyes watered and he faced away from her guiltily. Then she caught a glimpse of a brief light from the red gemstone on the back of his neck. Almost instantly the tears dried and he stood straighter, looking down at her again with more assertiveness. “Do what you want here… But if you value your life, stay away from me and my family.”

Gretel gulped, unable to tell if that was a threat or a warning. Before she had a chance to ask, he managed to take flight back to the highlands. She remained sitting there, taking a moment to process everything, when she was startled by the bushes behind her rustling and turned to see her friend approach.

“Thanks for not telling him,” the blue-and-violet revealer said quietly.

“Ef–” the striped wyvern began, but stopped herself. “Err, Galen…?”

His pale green eyes narrowed, almost in a wince. “...Don't call me that…”

Efron it is, then. “Efron, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to approach him–”

“I know. It's fine; I saw the whole thing.”

“Are… you okay?”

He nodded. “Are you? Reveals can be hard for hatchlings to resist. I'm… impressed that you didn't tell him everything, especially since you can't conceal.”

“I just… didn't want to risk you getting hurt,” Gretel said.

Efron seemed taken aback by that, then gave a slight, genuine smile. “Thanks… You did great.”

The hatchling beamed from the praise.

“Oh, yeah–where were you all morning?” he wondered.

“Exploring,” she replied vaguely, not wanting to get her friend's hopes up about a new island to live on until she could manage to find one.

“Hm. Exploring sounds fun, really.” He glanced back at his blue wings. “Maybe I can go exploring with you when I'm able to fly.”

She followed his gaze. “How much longer will that be?”

“I'll be two years old in around three months. If I can last that long, then I'll be good to go,” Efron answered with a determined grin.

Why wouldn't he last that long? Gretel pondered, but didn't want to dampen his mood by asking. Instead, she lifted her forepaw to inspect her own purple-striped wings that were folded upward so she could stand. “You know, the whole reason I approached your cousin just now was to help him fly–because I thought he was you. I can probably help you learn, even if your wings can't carry you on their own yet.”

Once again, the violet juvenile seemed shocked by her consideration. “You'd do that?”

“Of course! I can easily summon winds to help you glide.”

He stared at her, dumbstruck for a moment. Then he let out a slight laugh. “I'd appreciate that…!”

“Maybe we should start tomorrow just to make sure your cousin doesn't see us,” she suggested.

“Oh, good thinking.” Efron seemed thoughtful for a moment. “Can I ask… why you're helping me…?”

Gretel blinked. “Why shouldn't I?”

“You agreed with what he said to you about wind types being flighty and raiders… But you're not like that–not to me, anyway. And I'm sure you've heard bad things about revealers, too. I'm shocked you didn't flee when we first met.”

She scoffed. “Only adults think that way about other dragon types. Them, or the hatchlings they teach the same lessons to. Solitary wind hatchlings like me get to see the world for ourselves! I've seen so many dragons of so many types, I know everyone is different.”

Efron gaped at her.

“You were nice to me, so I was nice to you. That's all there is to it,” she assured him.

He shifted his weight to one foot, the other nervously digging its claws into the grassy ground. “Is there anything I can help you with in return…?”

“Heh! I don't need help from anyone!” the wyvern boasted.

“Hm. There has to be something I can do…”

“We-e-e-ell, maybe you can duet with me sometime?”

“Duet…? Like, singing?”

“Yep!”

“Are you sure? I'm not very good… and I'm not as loud as you.”

“Yes, I'm sure; it's not about being good, and I can match your volume. But there's no rush. In fact, the duet can wait until after you can fly! That way, I get something in exchange for helping you.”

“...Alright. It's a deal.”