Chapter 2: Sunwatcher

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Sunwatcher was a strange dragonet, everyone said. He had a feeling it was true, unfortunately.

His scales were very weird. His hunting instincts were all wrong. Although being, in some sense, a NightWing, he was raised in the Sand Kingdom, abandoned in the streets. And his only friend was (mostly) a SandWing. He was guessing this was not the most usual NightWing way of life.

He stretched from his position on the crumbled remains of an old sandstone wall, wings spread, catching the last fragments of the sun. His friend, Sandstorm, was pacing on the sand, flicking his tail at lizards and looking curiously at a large, black buzzard eyeing them from the crumbled ramparts.

Sandstorm flinched in surprise as a lizard scampered up his arm and raced down his back. At the last moment, the dragonet flicked up his barbed tail and the lizard went flying in the sky, where a buzzard suddenly took action, swooping and catching the lizard in its beak. Sandstorm kicked some sand, grumbling, as the buzzard flew into the sky.

The sun set, casting rays of pink and orange in the sky. Sunwatcher folded in his wings, and glided to the dune below, where Sandstorm was glaring at the disappearing speck of the buzzard.

"I'm done," Sunwatcher announced. He spread his talons in the sand, letting the warmth of it soak in. Sandstorm moved his sight to Sunwatcher.

Perfectly timed, signed Sandstorm. I had just finished staring furiously at that eagle. He nodded his head at the buzzard, now almost gone. Sunwatcher squinted to watch the bird fly. Heat waves swam on the horizon, now fading as the sky turned dark blue.

Sandstorm had been abandoned on the streets of the Scorpion Den, just like Sunwatcher. But while Sunwatcher's egg hatched in the Den, Sandstorm was already hatched and about two years old. His parents, who were quite wealthy advisors to the queen, had abandoned him because he couldn't hear or speak, although he could read lips and used sign language very well. When Sandstorm first signed that story to Sunwatcher, Sunwatcher had felt like saying some very unkind things to Sandstorm's parents.

"The soup kitchen is opening up soon," Sunwatcher said. His stomach growled and grumbled. "I'm hungry."

Sandstorm nodded. Me too, he signed. I hope we get there before all the others.

He spread his sand-colored wings, and took off, practicing clawing at the air as he flew. Sunwatcher launched off beside Sandstorm, looking at the cactus and sand dunes until the Scorpion Den appeared. Dragons, mostly SandWings, flew in and out, carrying bags of vegetables and herbs, prey and other items. The tents set up almost all had lights in them, and Sunwatcher heard bartering and shouting from inside them. Sandstorm alighted on a crumbled stone path, his wings and tail automatically drawing in close to him to avoid the many SandWing barbed tails that were dragging along the ground or held in up in the air, and to make sure there were no accidents with his own. Sunwatcher landed behind him, lifting his wings up as a horde of tiny dragonets ran through.

Watch your pockets, Sandstorm signed, flicking his tail at a SandWing dragonet slipping under his wing innocently. Sunwatcher tucked his glowing wings in, gave the dragonet a look, and handed him a few coins. Then he followed Sandstorm, who was bustling though the dense river of dragons, until he saw his friend disappearing down an alleyway. Sunwatcher ducked under a large MudWing and followed the SandWing's trailing tail.

Sunwatcher ducked over two SandWings carrying a large wooden crate, then followed Sandstorm down an alleyway. Looking around, he assessed the dangers of various street dragons that were eyeing them suspiciously, grumbling and methodically sharpening their claws. Sandstorm seemed to take no notice of the other dragons around them, but turned onto a quieter street just as a horde of dragonets scrambled by, responding to a metal gong being sounded at the soup kitchen. Sunwatcher realized that there was already a huge line, full of dragonets and dragons stepping on feet, treading on tails and hitting each other with their wings. He would have to rely on no-good trickery to get there before all the food was gone.

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