Wings of Fire: Hearts of Black and Gold

Prisoner

Canyon hated not being in control.

In the army many had thought his drive to become Commander had been egged on by some burning ambition deep within. Perhaps so. At least that's what he told others when they asked what had pushed him towards such high goals.

He would never admit that he had simply thought he could do a better job. He had been sick of watching his friends die due to some lack of forethought or inattention to what was supposedly a minor detail.

And that was why, trapped behind bars, helpless and forced to rely on the others to rescue him, Canyon felt more vulnerable than ever before.

And he hated it.

"Would you sit down already?" Fang's nag kicked at the side of his temple like a thrown stone. "Standing at the window looking like a kicked coyote pup isn't going to do you much good." The tomb raider say reclined in the corner with his tail flopped over his eyes, his copious jewelry sparkling in the glow of the single torch hung on the wall.

Canyon clenched his jaw while his talons tightened around the bars that covered the windows of their cell. He didn't respond, just like he hadn't responded to any of the ruffian's previous quips and comments either. Instead he returned his gaze to the window, trying to keep in his sight the disappearing shadows of Oryx and Ember as they glided like ghosts over the dunes.

They had appeared like spectres in the night while the SkyWing had been staring forlornly into the desert. They hadn't been able to speak to him, the guards were too close, but they had managed to catch his attention to let him know they were there and, from what Canyon assumed the frantic talon waving by Oryx meant, were going to bust them out...somehow.

Canyon both dreaded and desperately wanted to know how they intended to do that. Although another thought was taking up his limited attentional resources at the moment.

It brought relief to see Oryx back safely of course, and was eager to know where he had disappeared too, but he dared to hope that that meant Storm was back as well. Warmth rushed through his extremities at the thought of the glittering dragoness.

Never had someone frustrated and captivated him more than Storm. Emotions pulsed through her at every moment like fish beneath the eyes of a frozen lake, darting hither and tither when spooked by a passing shadow. She was fierce, reckless, and rude at times, there was no doubt about that, but she also expressed a warmth from the heart that drew him near.

Canyon laughed to himself. A month ago he had been warring with the IceWings and now he was falling in love with one. His family would be horrified of course...if he ever intended on seeing them again. With a soured mood he drew in a soul breath to exhale.

He supposed it could be worse. The only thing his family had hated more than an IceWing was an animus.

"Have you gone deaf, old man?" Fang was at his side now though the quip in his voice had been whittled down to a harsh hiss. "If you keep staring out the window like a moon-dazed owl the guards are gonna think something's up."

Canyon turned a sour eye to Fang and then to the iron door of their cage. The one barred area was reserved for the singular window, everything else was made of an iron so old it was a sickly green and rank of blood. The sand and wind-burned door fit poorly on its hinges so that Canyon could see the flicker of movement on the other side. The guards were still there of course, but they certainly weren't watching. In fact, by the amiable murmur of conversation that slipped through the cracks they seemed rather distracted.

"What are you talking about? They can't even see us."

Fang made a face that withered Canyon's patience. "Listen, old man," -he japed a talon into Canyon's chest- "I've done business with these guys before. They're not dumb."