Storm Season | Shelha Series 2 | ✔

Alone

Taz could not remember having gotten himself under the bush. The half-waking period between sleep and actually waking was strange. He hurt. Everything hurt, though he did not recall having received wounds elsewhere than his hindquarters. Maybe those were enough to occupy a whole body.

Taz tried to shut his eyes, only to find them already shut. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the images that seemed intent on pasting themselves to his vision. He snatched one out and blanked it. He would rather watch the hollow with the dead Drakons, over and over again. He would rather watch the charcoal wings of the mutant Drakons, or the South forest flying by far too fast, far too far below. How had he escaped? Wait... no, there.

Latching onto the stray image, Taz dragged it from the melee. It was a memory of landing somewhere near the forest's edge. The monster had released him to go after another Coppertail, having evidently been convinced by his play at death. He knew that Coppertail. Taz sat up with a start and passed out momentarily. Note to self: don't walk.

That ruled out most activities, so Taz scraped himself a pillow and closed his eyes again. Not that he'd be able to sleep.

Time passed in stretches, skipping to random parts of the day without any discernible sequence. It was the realization of knowing the Coppertail that eventually drove Taz to try sitting up again. Shelha, he was stiff as a dead tree. The pain in his hindquarters was being muted by the fact that he hadn't moved a muscle in what felt like days. Taking a deep breath, Taz looked at his back half.

Hey, that was better than expected. He had been imagining pieces of himself torn out, or at least some missing fur. His hindquarters seemed intact. He tested a hind paw. Yup, those claws had stabbed muscle. He was also entirely the wrong colour, and his crusted fur yanked painfully when he moved. He would need water to wash all this off.

Westwind Crag rocks and vegetation interspersed the grass around him, marking this as the Leslands' edge. Taz could see his own trail leading straight to the bush, leaving spots and smears on the ground. It seemed a miracle he had not been followed.

Getting to his feet took almost forever. No Lesland plants were edible and he wasn't hungry anyways, so Taz began to retrace his tracks. He wanted to know what had happened to the Coppertail.

Shelha, he'd made it far after escaping.

It took most of the morning to return to where the giant Drakon had attacked the other Coppertail. The site of the ambush brought back memories like a smack in the face. Two Coppertails. Taz sat down and tried to recreate the sequence of events. One Coppertail, seen below. The giant Drakon had touched down a ways off and begun stalking it by claw. Taz had followed. Shelha knew how; he could hardly walk now.

He opened his eyes again. Before him was a clearing under a leafless tree. The Coppertail had returned here before realizing it was being hunted, and here the monster had attacked. The second Coppertail had come out of nowhere...

Taz shook his head, hard. He must have been dreaming that.

But if it had happened then there would be evidence, right? Taz scanned the clearing. There were clawmarks and old blood stains where the Coppertail had been attacked... then clawmarks backing away. Drakon blood. Lots of clawmarks and the streaks of dragging wings. The second Coppertail had attacked the giant Drakon and won. How in Shelha's name had he won, when these two had been unable to fend off two mutts two moons ago?

The white-winged Drakon's last trail retreated into the grass and vanished. The two Coppertails had stayed for a long time. Taz picked up their trail and followed it. He wouldn't normally trust Leslanders, but these two hadn't had collars.