David landed with practiced grace on the broken skylight, peering down into what remained of the mall's central court. His Echolocation painted the space in perfect clarity - a massive open area surrounding what had probably been a pretty impressive fountain, now long dry. Plant life had claimed most of the walls, but the floor looked promising - just a thick layer of debris and dust.
"See?" he said to Captain, who was already eyeing the descent with concerning levels of interest. "Perfect place to check for toys for you guys. Ground floor's probably picked clean, but nobody ever thinks to check the storage areas upstairs."
Captain chirped something that might have been agreement or might have been mockery. Hard to tell with them sometimes.
David spread his wings and dropped through the broken skylight, ready to stick another perfect landing and-
His talons hit what he thought was solid debris. Instead, they found a whisper-thin layer of dust over perfectly preserved linoleum. Physics, ever the cruel mistress, took immediate effect.
"No! Not linol-" David managed, before his legs shot out from under him. His wings flared instinctively for balance, which only made things worse as they caught air and sent him spinning. He pirouetted across the floor like the world's most reluctant ballet dancer, trailing curses and dust clouds in his wake.
Another pulse of Echolocation showed him rapidly approaching a concrete planter. David tried to dig his wing talons in for traction, succeeding only in creating a sound like nails on a chalkboard as he carved elegant spirals into the floor's surface.
"Fuck fuck fuck-" His litany of panic cut short as he slammed into the planter, somehow managing to convert the impact into an awkward flip that landed him spread-eagled on his back. Dust plumed around him like nature's revenge for disturbing its nap.
Above, his Cuddlebugs watched with what could only be described as enlightened fascination. Then Captain, that absolute traitor, came screaming in hot, landed on the dust-slick floor, and proceeded to slide past David's prone form while chirping with unrestrained glee.
"Don't you dare-" David started, but it was too late. The rest of his fuzzy squad took Captain's display as divine inspiration, dive-bombing the floor in waves and turning his humiliation into some kind of demented winter sports competition.
David pushed himself up, trying to maintain what little dignity he had left. "Okay, just got to..." He carefully placed one wing-talon down, testing for purchase. "Easy does it, nice and- MOTHERFU-"
His legs betrayed him again, shooting out in opposite directions this time. David windmilled his wings frantically, which somehow resulted in him spinning in place like a top. A very angry, increasingly dizzy top.
"This is fine," he muttered through gritted teeth, still rotating slowly. "Everything is fine. I am a creature of the night, feared by- oh god I'm gonna be sick."
One of his newer Cuddlebugs - well, newer veterans really - landed carefully beside him. The tiny creature tilted its head in apparent concern, then gently patted his nose with surprising tenderness. The moment was immediately ruined as Captain shot past like a furry missile, creating a dust wake that sent them both sliding again.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"Et tu, Captain?" David growled, now somehow facing the opposite direction and still spinning. "I expected better from- no, actually, this is exactly what I expected from you."
His Echolocation showed him the fountain was only about thirty feet away. He could make that. Just had to think this through logically. He was basically ice skating, right? Just with more talons and significantly more ways to embarrass himself.
"Watch and learn, you tiny traitors," David announced, carefully positioning his wings. "This is how a professional handles adverse conditions."
What followed was perhaps the least professional display of locomotion ever witnessed. David alternated between penguin-walking with his wings tucked tight, attempting to use his wing-talons as impromptu ice picks, and at one point just lying flat and trying to army-crawl his way to victory. The dust defeated every strategy, turning each attempt into another lesson in creative cursing.
His Cuddlebugs, meanwhile, had developed their own technique. They'd launch themselves from various heights, land in formation, and slide through elaborate patterns while chirping what sounded suspiciously like a scoring system. The newer veteran - who David was starting to think might be developing an actual personality - kept trying to help him up, only to get caught in the slipstream of their siblings' dust-skating routine.
"I hate everything about this," David declared as he somehow ended up facing the ceiling again. "This is worse than the time I tried to land on that satellite dish. At least then gravity was on my side."
Captain zipped past his head, their wake creating another dust cloud that set off a chain reaction of sneezing. Each sneeze sent David sliding in a new direction, like some kind of cosmic pinball machine where the ball was very angry and increasingly nauseous.
Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, David managed to grab the edge of the fountain. He hauled himself up with as much dignity as he could muster, which wasn't much considering he was covered in dust and had somehow acquired a small plant in his fur.
"Nobody," he said firmly, brushing himself off, "is ever going to hear about this. Ever. This didn't happen."
His Cuddlebugs responded by performing what could only be described as a synchronized dust-sliding routine, complete with tiny loop-de-loops and a grand finale where they all crashed into each other in a chirping pile of joy.
"I hate all of you," David muttered, but he couldn't help grinning as the helpful veteran tried to copy Captain's sliding technique and ended up doing tiny somersaults instead. "Except you. You're still on my good list."
As David surveyed his dust-covered kingdom from his perch on the fountain, he had to admit it wasn't a total loss. They'd found a new game, even if it was at the cost of his pride. And maybe, just maybe, he'd figured out a new tactical advantage. After all, who would expect him to weaponize his own clumsiness?
"Alright you fuzzy menaces," he called out, watching as Captain organized another sliding formation. "One more run, then we actually have to check those storage rooms. And someone please get this plant out of my fur - I refuse to become a mobile garden."
The helpful veteran immediately flew up to assist, carefully extracting the vegetation while somehow managing to look both concerned and amused. Captain, naturally, took this as a challenge and launched into another high-speed sliding routine.
David sighed, settled more comfortably on his fountain perch, and resigned himself to watching the show. The storage rooms could wait. Right now, he had dust-skating Cuddlebugs to supervise and what remained of his dignity to rebuild.
Besides, he was pretty sure he'd pulled something during that last spin, and he wasn't quite ready to test his luck with the linoleum again. Some battles, he decided, weren't worth fighting. Especially when they involved surprise ice skating minus the ice.
At least nobody else was around to witness it. Small mercies.