Savior

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Shadowwing stopped trying to find Passion.

It seemed that she only showed up when he least expects it, when she wanted to. And he had no idea how to read this dragon. She was... an enigma.

But the thought of that strange Rainwing, with her too long claws and dangerous air, a part of him didn't want her to approach him again. That was why he didn't venture off much on his own anymore.

Which made him all the more frightened when she did come again.

He had been drinking from the small stream that wove through the rainforest not far from the Nightwing village, mind still foggy from sleep. For a brief moment, he had thought he had seen an odd ripple in the sluggish current, which he had promptly shook off. There wasn't anything in the stream. Only an old log.

Just as he had pushed the thought from his head, the water before him exploded. With a guttural hiss, the thick, heavy jaws of a massive crocodile snapped shut a scale's breadth away from his face. He leapt away with a yelp, so frightened he couldn't make himself open his wings to fly away. To escape. And where could he go? The trees were so densely packed right here that he wouldn't be able to get far. Panicked, he watches as the pink gaping mouth bore down on him. To rip him apart.

Then, it's inexplicably knocked away. Shadowwing watched in shock as the crocodile rolled away, gashes opening up its thick hide, seemingly from nowhere. Blood splashes across the mossy ground, staining it a deep, dark scarlet. A draconic figure materializes, twisted with the flailing croc. The dragon's scales shine a bloody crimson, shot through with the deepest of black.

In horror, Shadowwing watches as the attacking dragon unhinges their jaws and spray black venom into the crocodile's face.

It eats into the monster's skull, burning it away. With a roaring wail, what remains of the crocodile falls limply to the ground. Half of its long narrow face is gone.

His very bones quivering, Shadowwing looks to the dragon who saved him. They're still poised over the remains, ready should it rise again. When it doesn't, the angry, boiling red and black slides off their scales like shed skin, replaced by soothing blues and purples. His rescuer's back spines relax, and she turns.

It's Passion, the strange Rainwing.

He wants to move, to flee, but his body won't respond to his mind.

"Disgusting crocodiles," she hisses in a conversational tone, whacking the dead thing with her tail. The spikes at its tip slice into the dead croc's flesh. "So closely related to us yet so eager to make us a meal."

She cocks her head as the body twitches. With a flash of gleaming claws, she slashes into its chest. Oh, so neatly, she cuts out its heart.

That's too much for Shadowwing. Stumbling back, he collapses to the ground in a dead faint.


Upon waking, Shadowwing notices two things.

First, the thick, dank smell of crocodile flesh and blood is gone, replaced by the sickly sweet scent of too-ripe fruit.

Second, he's lying sprawled out on something that is surprisingly soft.

He cracks open his eyes, taking in the small cave he's in. Vines drape over the cave opening, yet still allow greenish light to filter in from outside. Raising a talon, he lightly touches his aching skull. His dreams had been disjointed, filled with scattered images of small, odd looking Rainwing dragonets, bright summertime rainforest, and, most peculiarly, a muscular looking Icewing.

He had never met an Icewing face to face.

Coming to himself a bit more, he noticed the bright gold eyes staring at him from the far side of the cave.

He leapt up, springing from the bed of moss he had been lying in. Passion chuckled across from him. Her scales remained that purple-blue gradient they had been before.

"You startle easy," she noted, spreading a wing to gesture at the moss bed. "You can sit, you know. I don't bite."

Eyes passing from her to the moss, Shadowwing slowly creeps back to it. He keeps his gaze locked on her, unnerved that her own eyes haven't left him. He feels all on edge, like the slightest mistake could cause her to attack. They regard one another in silence.

"You could thank me for saving you." she said, sprawling out on the cave floor, her wings stretching wide. "That croc would have ripped you apart."

Mouth drier than the desert, he forced himself to squeak out an answer. "Thank... thank you. But... but why did you... um... you know?"

"Carve out its heart?" she supplied, inspecting her claws.

He nodded, terrified.

"You can never be sure with them. We don't get many, but you best keep an eye out. I've heard stories of vemoned crocodiles living another few hours. Killed a dragonet."

Shadowwing's muscles locked up.

"Don't worry, Shade," she cooed. "The big bad monster's dead now!"

He flinched. Passion looked puzzled.

"That usually works to calm my little sisters down. How come it doesn't work with you?"

"Death..." he took in a ragged breath. "Death isn't comforting."

Passion stood, peering at him. "But the bad thing is gone. I protected someone. That's my job as the oldest, and I take it very seriously."

"And... and your sisters like being protected that way. But... I don't like it that... that graphic."

She considered this, before nodding. "I can understand that. JuJu just has my sense of humor, and Tiny just likes being safe." she went to the vine drapery. "Anyway, you're not far away from the Nightwing village, you can go. I'm not holding you prisoner. Maybe I'll see ya again."

And with that, she dove through the vines, and was gone.

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