Wings of Fire • Dragon of Secrets [2]

Chapter Eight

"I'm going away for a few days, alright? I need you to stay here. I left you enough food to last three passes of the sun, it should be enough until I come back. I already said it but I'm going to say it again: don't leave, okay?"

     Snakeroot hoisted a large satchel over her back and climbed out of the hollow. Brisktail watched her leave.

     Before she pulled the trapdoor, he asked, "Where are you going?"

     Snakeroot paused, her talon on the wood and holding it half-shut, "Remember the eostrix that flew by last night? It carried a summons from my friends. We're to meet to discuss something, about what, I don't know. You can't leave, so don't go anywhere. Practice the scrolls I left you."

     Brisktail sighed and nodded. Another three days in the hollow. He had already spent eight, and he was starting to think he was sick with cave fever. He guessed this was better than having his father nag him about being unprepared for his graduation.

     Just as Snakeroot was about to close the door, Brisktail held it open with his talon. "Can't I go outside if I feel like I need fresh air?"

     Snakeroot hissed angrily. "No! You'll be found out! When I come back, then you can, but until then don't leave!" with that, she shut the door and her receding footsteps could be heard.

     Brisktail squeezed past Snakeroot's things to get back to his sleeping place. It was the only area in which he really fit. He moved the furs and wool blanket aside and scraped at the frozen earth with his talons in hopes to enlarge the space. He made little progress. Out of frustration, he ruffled his wings only to singe them in the fire and knock into shelves.

     He recoiled in fear and curled in on himself. Brisktail rubbed his wings and squeezed onto his sleeping space. There was a small pile of scrolls near his head, emphasis on small. Brisktail unrolled them and tried not to rip them as he read over Snakeroot's shaky talonwriting.

     She was trying to teach him her language, or, "L'uhalar sor Fhiren Draquen." It was hard, but he was starting to understand it by the third day. Now, he could understand whatever Snakeroot said and respond fairly well. The morning's entire conversation was held in the Forest Language, or "Forest" for short.

     Brisktail's stomach rumbled and he looked across the hollow to one of Snakeroot's chests. It was full of dried roots, berries, and nuts. Apparently, PineWings ate only plants. Brisktail couldn't think he could stand another day of uselessly chewing plants with his sharp teeth, let alone living under the rock.

     That was why he eventually picked himself up, squirming forward on his belly and making his way to the trapdoor. He pushed it open and squinted into the weak dawn sunlight. The sun was just peeking over the tops of the trees, yellow rays dancing through the clearing. The snow sparkled beautifully and Brisktail breathed the chilly air in deeply.

     He hadn't tasted real air in so long that he forgot what it was like. He hauled himself out of the hollow, feeling a moment of panic as his midsection got stuck. He worked himself out and sighed in relief at the sensation of cool snow on his scales.

     Brisktail jumped forward and rolled around in the snow, spreading his wings and yawning loudly. His muscles felt slightly weak after being in a state of rest for so long.

     Brisktail eventually calmed down and lifted his snout, trying to find something edible. He hoped for fish, but there probably wouldn't be any without a large body of water. He picked a direction to head in – northeast – and pushed through the undergrowth. Brisktail had to squint to protect his eyes.