The swift young wind dragon paced herself so that her revealer friend wouldn't be left behind. She could feel the air disturbed by his wingbeats behind her as she guided him, but immediately grew concerned when they stilled into a steeply descending glide toward the ocean below them.
“Efron?” Gretel paused and turned to check on him. Her keen eyes saw his mouth open as if he were speaking a reply, but it wasn't loud enough for her to hear. She didn't have time to ask what he said; his green eyes closed and he fell limply.
“Efron!” she cried again, directing the air beneath him skyward in an attempt to keep him airborne. Her head throbbed from his carrying weight alone and the exertion from her sonic attack against their enemy just minutes ago. The unconscious violet revealer plunged into the churning waves, despite his companion’s efforts. Forming red swirls in the water from the gash in his arm were the only visual cues she had to pinpoint him with.
Gretel dove down to the surface and tried to breach it, but wind dragons’ light frames were naturally buoyant; she couldn't submerge regardless of how much she tried. With no other option, the striped siren cried out in utter despair. Everything was happening so fast, yet it felt like an eternity that she could do nothing at all to rescue Efron. She tried to use her voice and wind summons to brute-force a hole through the water and reach him through, but she saw stars from the effort.
Just as she was blacking out, Gretel felt the water stir beneath her. Efron? No–it’s way bigger than him…! It must be a predator, she realized with dread. She sniffled. I was stupid for thinking we'd survive… But at least we'll be together in our last moments. The exhausted and drained wind dragoness braced herself and let her mind slip into unconsciousness.
“Come on, now. Breathe for me,” a familiar older male’s voice sounded a few feet away from Gretel as the latter awakened.
She found herself on the wet prairie isle that she and her injured friend had been on their way to. The striped juvenile sat up and looked toward the voice to find it belonged to Clay; the brown water dragon was pressing rhythmically on Efron's chest as the latter lay motionless. The second Gretel managed to stand on her weakened legs, the young revealer suddenly vomited seawater, audibly breathing afterward, but he remained unconscious. Her hot pink eyes looked toward her friend's arm, wincing as the salt from the ocean had cleansed it enough to show her just how deep the injury was.
“Clay?” Gretel dared herself to speak up quietly, terrified her acquaintance would say Efron wasn't going to survive.
“He's lost a lot of blood,” he reported, and even though he maintained a neutral tone, the wind type could detect an underlying fear within it on top of his deliberately paced breathing.
If Clay is this scared, it can't be good… “What–What can we do…?”
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“You're fast, right? Hurry to the woodland and ask Gavin for help. He's skilled with electricity and has cottonwood catkins in his den."
“Gavin? Who's–”
“You've met him before. The one with the revealer hatchling. Quickly, now; it's a miracle your friend isn't dead yet. Can't say how much longer it'll be until he is, though.”
Gretel took a breath before she rushed off as fast as her sore and tired muscles would allow her to. “Gavin?” she projected her voice down despairingly from above the tall grayish trees. When there wasn't an immediate answer, the wind type looked for anything at all that matched what Clay had described. What are catkins? She shook her head. I don't have time for this! She ascended and let her gaze sweep the woodlands for the turquoise electric dragon. “Gavin!” she called a second time, fearing she was taking too long.
He was nowhere in sight. She wanted to keep looking, but the thought of Efron dying alone made her suppress her want so Gretel hovered in preparation to fly back to her friend–only to feel an impulse to keep looking. Wait–that's a reveal! That means the hatchling is near! And if she is, no doubt Gavin's with her.
She relinquished her self control to give in to the baby revealer's ability, pinpointing her by way of which direction made the impulse stronger. Finally Gretel spotted a den on the far end of the woodlands and landed at the mouth of it. “Gavin, I need your help! I need catkins!”
A faint commotion sounded from inside for just a moment. Then yellow-green eyes opened, briefly glowing in the darkness as if by a spark. “Is someone hurt?” he demanded without making a move.
“Yes–my friend’s bleeding out–”
His eyes narrowed intensely. “Where?”
“Clay brought him ashore–”
There was another commotion and his eyes vanished from sight. Gretel worriedly peered in, only for Gavin to shoot past the wind type out of the den. Her sharp eyes had caught sight of the tangerine hatchling clinging to his back, protected underneath his long curly mane, and also noticed what looked like seeds on a plant stem in his hand. He was fast; perhaps even faster than Gretel, as he leapt across the slope down from the woodlands, then leapt again toward the muddy beach as soon as he landed. In just four bounds, he had reached the other males.
Gretel had flown on a direct path after him, which was the only reason she could keep up.
Clay had been using his webbed hands to keep pressure on Efron’s open wound. Gavin took the seeds and popped them open, revealing cotton-like fluff inside that he used to wipe the fresh blood off, then gestured for both Clay and Gretel to step back. The latter hesitated when she noticed the water type kept backing up.
“Come on, little lady. If you're in the way, it won't be pretty,” the brown dragon warned her.
She heeded his words but had no idea what was going on. In the way of what?
In answer, there was bright sparking of electricity and the scent of charring flesh. Her stomach lurched. “What are you doing?! Don't burn him!”
Clay grabbed her tail to stop her from intervening. “Easy, now. He's cauterizing it.”
“What does that mean?!”
The tangerine revealer still clinging to the electric type’s shoulders let out a little whimper as her red ears flattened from the siren’s panicked voice.
“Lower your volume, please,” Clay said sternly, and Gretel bit her tongue. “It means he's only burning it to stop the bleeding. Gavin knows what he's doing; he wouldn't intentionally harm someone who isn't a threat.”
The two looked back to the scene and Gavin popped more seeds open, then used static to stick multiple fluffy pieces together into a thin wrap over Efron's wound. His yellow-green eyes inspected it as if to make sure it would hold, then he looked over his shoulder and gave Clay a nod of farewell before bounding back to his den.