Welcome!

It had been a good respite.

Two months. Two whole months since their last lesson. The birds seemed to chirp that much more happily. The grass seemed that much less soggy and brown. The air, even, seemed less feted and wretched. Everything had been that much more beautiful… well, beautiful for a horrible, stinking, muck of a hiding place the dark wyrmlings and remaining taints had been driven into. For a moment, it seemed as if things may actually get better, but these poor fellows just had no luck. They miss the war, the event of their lives, and now their rest had come to an end. It was time for one of their lessons and it would be one of their last, but, that didn’t make the event any less of a gut wrenching awful mess to go through. By golly, though, this time… maybe this time would be different. That, however, would be up to them.

That morning, as the young ones slept in their caves and hovels and lairs expecting a similarly habitual awakening as these past weeks, their elders plotted anew. Twin serpents in their sinful glee, the bone pair hadn’t been seen in some time, perhaps since the last lesson. There had not been a single mention of them from friend or foe besides lamentations of their existence or wistful hopes that such existences would be soon discontinued. However, no matter the reason for it, their lack of ‘teaching’ was surely felt as a boon by all. This morning, though, the disconcerting return of the awful duo was heralded by what sounded like a strangled, ill-toned trumpet. There was no scrawling chalkboard screech nor, by the good graces of whatever gods looked over these younglings, a gaggle of irritating alarm clock demons. Instead, the single quacking sound that rolled over the blooming horizon like a doomed fowl was soon joined in chorus with two more strained peals of sound. And together, they played a stirring, but completely awful rendition of what some wary, onlooking writers may have taken as ‘Take Me Out To the Ball Game.’ The wyrmlings would have been tormented to wakefulness by the sound of a song they’d never get the irony of.

“…I don’t care if I never get back!” Chon sang as she kicked the grunting little sonics at her feet that promptly tooted note after note for her. “Let me root, root, root for the hooooome team.”
“…Chon.” Jadra was somewhat less merry. Her hands were at her hips as she frown while her partner continued to squish and squeeze the sour sonics into song.
“If theeeeyyy don’t win it’s a-“
“Chon.”
“Shaaaaaaaaame!”
“…I know who I’m ashamed of right now.”
“For it’s One! Two!”
“You’re counting, why are you counting?”
“Three strikes you’re out, at the o—“ Perfectly timed, the saucy bone rider shoved one of the sonics in line as they lay, hands over their eyes, having been threatened summarily into submission some time before. Tough word had been uttered. Weasels had been waved about. And, in this case, with the sudden force enough to surprise the captured instrument, a thick tail came right in the way of the hooting tainted dragon as she whooped and hollered in delight. And down she came, like a giant wombat made of tootsie rolls, which, reading about may not make any sense, but, you’d see the resemblance if you’d been there.

With a great heave of her bosom, the sultry woman flicked her locks out of her face and stepped right in front of the bone’s maw as she lay, words kicked straight from her mouth. “They won’t be able to hear you. Why are you singing. Infact, what are you singing?”
“It’s a song I picked up. I like it. And I wanted to sing.” The creature shook and picked herself up to brush her body off like a cat and changing the subject from a song that had no place belonging in their universe or time spectrum. “At least I have a nice singing voice.”
“Sure you do, if you’re trying to sound like a cross between an aardvark and a smelter.”
“I’ll have you know my mother was a smelter.” Chon crossed her arms and haughtily turned her nose upward at the insult from the human. “She was very good and she smelted lots of things.”
“Like men?”
“No, men don’t melt.” She made a pffft sound and waved a paw dismissively. “They burn, you wet sandwich.”
“Oh, I thought you were making innuendo because your mom was a slut.”
“I never said she wasn’t a slut.”

Once again, it was a riveting conversation between the two bonded. However, as the young ones begrudgingly started to group before them, the conversation shifted from each other to the lurid little group of greenhorns. “Well now, looks like the gang’s all here.” Chon swept a dark eye to the gathering. “Well, more or less.” The bone surely found a few things out of place among the students, mostly the absence of a few unwanted faces. These young ones should have all been graduated by now. The other taintlings had been lucky enough to see themselves though this mess by their eighth month, but, not these guys. Theirs was the shortest straw every single time.
“Well you little muppets, I hope you’ve had a good vacation.” Jadra spoke up first. Her hands were still on her hips as if they were more comfortable there than at her sides. “But there will be no more comforts for you, not after the nonsense we’ve been through these past few months.” It was unclear if she meant the time teaching or the time of absence, but, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Though, interestingly, neither rider nor dragon ever went into exactly what had happened to them during that lapse. Certainly rumors would circulate. Perhaps they’d been captured by sekkians or had gotten caught up defending territory. Maybe they’d met pirates and gone on an adventure for buried treasure. Perhaps they’d been abducted by aliens. Or, perhaps a certain demonic someone who supposedly bequeathed Jadra her feminine curves had called her back for payment. Someone should check to see if she smelled like hell.
“Today’s lesson is about working as a shell.” The dragoness loomed over her rider for a moment, though, it would have been more effectively threttening if she wasn’t wiggling like a deviously excited puppy. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it or not, is to split into teams and then hunt down a slippery sekkian prisoner we’ve let loose in the murks. We’ve made sure to starve them for weeks so that the probability of them eating you is much more likely.”
“More likely than you lot graduating!” Jadra and Chon broke into uproarious laughter.
“Ah haha… Ahhh.” The dragon wiped a salty tear from her eye. “I’m so glad I chose you.” And then the two shared a brief, heartwarming moment of throwing variations of ‘filthy prostitute’ back and forth at one another.

“Speaking of choices, looks like someone’s made the decision not to show.” Chon swept her narrow head over to the sole sonic taintling among them. Knell was bare without her rider and that seemed to just paint more of a target on her than before. “At least, I’m safely assuming he just up and left. The fat footed runt could never have had the guts to kill or otherwise devour the weak little fool.”
“Maybe she couldn’t satisfy him.” Jadra sneered while her bonded giggled like a school bully after pushing another kid in a puddle.
“Maybe she annoyed him to death… or she accidentally sat on him with her fat ass.” Chon, going full force into the insults, clapped her talons together in imitation of ‘pancake-ing’ someone. “Smoosh, rider pudding. Delicious.” They both snickered. “Anyone to take an extra nip out of her gets extra points!”
“Points that go toward us not killing you all!”

Wyrmlings Are 8 Month Old
Morgoroth Garack and Earth Ate (58-83 ft)
Verris Belrun and Glass Fomhóire (10-50 ft)
Calait Valspena and Disruption Kronos (28-83 ft)
Quinnlen Aberdane and Bulkhead Pompeii (50-75 ft)
Desriya Valkhar and Fire Paraffin (45-63 ft)
Jonna Itahn and Toxic Pantera (50 ft)
Marmalade Sextus and Bone Mise en Garde (30-40 ft)
Arden Sorstow and Lightning Etrigan (25-30 ft)
Damien Scicario and Lightning Bucha (25-30 ft)
Chelydra Srasri and Ruin (Brother) Lapin (30-40 ft)
Caldre Versailles and Sonic Knell (20-28 ft)
Ganja Fishman and Abyssal Heulighkreuc (45 ft)
Isil Hywel and Razor Guillotine (15-20 ft)
Valkyrie Trebuchet and Air Bête Noire (18-35 ft)
Carter and Bone Osteoclast (18-35 ft)
Jezebel Yanaan and Influenza Carcinoma (6.3-16 ft)
Xareya Dhar'skel and Mycotic Myxoma (6.3-8.1 ft)

The days scored by, each painful and numbing to the young Sonic, like the blow of a cat of nine-tails. Every day spent in the absence of her rider, their distanced bond aching in the pit of her mind, and perhaps if she even had one, her very soul, was tearing at her relentlessly. Most days were spent in a restless pacing across the land, her mind torn in indecision of whether or not to leave and hunt for him; or to stay and learn to hate him. It was wrong to her, to hate Caldre. In some twisted way, perhaps from his own mind’s coaxing, she’d seen logic in his choice to leave. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but there was a purpose to him going, wasn’t there? She didn’t need him. She’d never needed him. He’d even said himself that she would do fine on her own. But still she wanted him here. She wanted him standing beside her as they grew, and learned, and proved themselves before their peers to be one of the best of the class. She was going to prove that they were something worth respecting. Nidhogg was gone, and there was a clean slate in the order of things. They could still climb up to a position of power! There would be opportunities to come to show their worth!

But that had all crumbled into a ruinous dust the day they had landed in Loth Angresan. She’d been so stupid, taking him off the island. She’d felt the after effects of the long flight for days herself…and yet, she’d done it for him. She’d let him go because…because what? Because she cared about him? Did a Taint even care about their riders? What she felt was more…possession. He was hers. Always. There was nothing that would stand in the way of that, no matter how far away he took her crystal. Even if he removed it from the picture, she would still feel him there, a faint prickle of consciousness in the back of her mind. She’d spent long days curled up in the depths of their crafted lair, simply staring. Sometimes she would keep her gaze outside, watching as the dead land of Desolation twitched in the occasional fetid breeze. Other times she would stare at the strange cat’s eye crystal embedded into her flesh. It was a depression, an endless dark void of loss that threatened to consume her.

It was pathetic.

She knew this, and yet…she let it swallow her, and stayed within her caves, rarely coming out. Many times, she simply forgot to eat, forgot to drink. She rarely felt the weakness that lack of sustenance brought. Only when she felt herself falling into a deeper sort of stillness did she force herself and her waning strength to find something to keep her moving, and keep her running. Water and food, those were the only things that currently drove her. Basest instinct was all that she felt like she could hold onto at this moment. Her scales had dulled with dirt, and the luminous sheen of her eyes extinguished to something flat. Sound escaped in careless rumbles when she walked, making it unlikely that she would ever hunt anything. She was forced to scavenge on the dead or dying, and the rank water of the Murks rarely added any benefits to her wasting health. The moon rose and set, and the passage of time was rarely acknowledged by the Sonic. It was only when the strange cacophony of sound rang out, the shrilling cries of those of her own breed that were too out of place and too….coordinated in an odd sense, to simply be a mindless gathering of Tainted beasts.

Perhaps it was just a lesson call.

For a few long moments, as the Sonic lay staring out of the cave, she was tempted to just ignore it. Remain here, holed up in her sparse portion of mangrove forest and within the dark. She didn’t care to recount on the stupidity of their instructors today. A few more minutes crept by, and the cries of the lesson summons didn’t cease. Knell’s sea green eyes shuttered briefly, and with a rattling huff, she pushed herself onto her feet. Fine. She would attend the lesson. In the back of her mind, behind her chafed pride, she knew this would be a good idea. Who knew if they would send someone or something after any wyrmling who neglected to appear. In her current state, she didn’t think she wanted to cope with something the likes of that crazed duo could come up with. She shuffled her wings as she pulled herself out of the cave, recalling the dire that sprang from the box in their early lessons and snorted. Crazy bitches…

A creak of underused wings and she waved them experimentally, dwelling on the option of flight briefly, before she figured it her best option. A shaky take off at best, she managed to pull herself into the sky with a gentle pant. She was rusty, and the prideful part of her snapped at her foolishness for letting her muscles atrophy as they had. It could be worse, she knew, but still…She angled her wings, catching the eddying currents of thermals that were barely there and barely useable. Most of her energy went into keeping herself aloft, and she was doing her best to hide the trembling of the muscles of her wings as she touched down. Thankfully, at the very least, her landing was graceful, and she didn’t go face first into the mud and muck in front of her classmates or their instructors. She felt hyperaware of the humans that were mingled amongst the draconic students that were in attendance, and even more of the lack of her own, and the absence of the saddle and weight on her shoulders that he should have filled. A snarl etched briefly into her maw of its own accord.

As the lesson masters and their crazed personas that they had set for themselves this time, whatever it was, stated out their purpose this lesson, Knell only listened half heartedly. Her eyes roved briefly over her growing classmates, and she felt it in the air more than she saw it, how much they were all growing into their power, and their adult lives. She flickered her gaze back to the lesson givers that had stated they would be hunting this day. Knell’s dulled gaze brightened a touch at the prospect of hunting something down, and hopefully mauling it horribly. However, the inventory of her own strength in comparison to a fully grown Sekkain, and a desperate one to add to that, made her jaw twitch into yet another snarl, this one inspired by a vague twitch of uncertainty, a weak emotion she didn’t care for. This was why they would work as a Shell, however. So that one dragon would have to face off against them alone. Again her eyes picked over her class mates. They would be splitting into teams, then. Who would she partner herself with, then? Hell if she knew…

She’d been effectively tuning out the irritating banter of the elder dragon and bonded before them as they traded affectionate insults with each other after they’d given the wyrmlings their directives. However, she saw in her peripheral, the gaze of Chon sweep towards her. “Speaking of choices, looks like someone’s made the decision not to show.” Knell stiffened, her head slowly turning to stare at the Bone dragon, a flickering kindling of warning emerald flames igniting behind her eyes. The Bone and her partner didn’t cease their taunts there however, and it continued in a bantering battle of insults directed not only at Knell, but at her rider and his absence. The warning she’d allowed them burned into a brighter flare of wildfire, her eyes shining in a blaze of fury, and a deep growl began to build in her heavy chest. A step forwards was more like a heavy blow pounding into the ground, echoed by a significantly soft wave of bass, though it would be felt in every sternum and diaphragm that it reached as it caused the ground to briefly shudder. Baring her sharp fangs in a spitting snarl, her lips peeled back in an antagonistic expression of rage, she crinkled narrowed eyes at the two.

“I’ve had just about enough of your shit.” She spat at them, like a foul taste in the back of her throat. Another step forwards, another shuddering wave of bass. She lifted her head up, her chin high her lip curled as she regarded them like the lowly things she thought them to be. “In fact…” she glanced behind her at the other wyrmlings. “I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one done with your bullshit stupidity.” She could feel her spires shuddering with a building shrill like a boiling teakettle then. “You want us to learn a new lesson teacher?” she asked, deathly quiet, though her voice carried well with the aid of her own element. “Fine…let’s work as a Shell.”

Then like a strip of dusk with the flares of bright blue like ignited lightning draped across her hide, she darted forwards. Her element erupted a thunderous storm around her paws each time they touched the soft ground. The wall of Sonics that had proven to be effective instruments of summoning stood in her way. But that wouldn’t stop her. Her wings half splayed, catching the air in a high whistle that built as she picked up speed, she felt her muscles burn, but her fury only fueled this fire that was simply her rage. “Let’s start by tearing a well deserved piece from your scaly ass!” she hissed, leaping over the crown of one Sonic, and landing upon his back, only to keep her momentum going. She sprang from his shoulders, an impressive height even as he lay in the mud, to give her an extra boost. Her wings still held at half mast continued to allow her to catch more air and stay aloft as she cleared the distance between herself, and Chon. Paws collided with Chon’s shoulder and emaciated form, all angles and easy spots to hold onto for the young wyrmling and her claws.

All her spires were shrilling a high grating whistle now, and her teeth sought some purchase on the harsh surface of Chon’s hide, looking to maim, injure, and possibly destabilize the larger dragon. She was outsized, and even if she had surprise on her side, she knew that this brief rebellion of hers wouldn’t last. She would need someone else to step forwards. No doubt in her mind, though, there were others who hated them as much as she, even if the antagonism wasn’t theirs to bear the brunt of, they would be fools to not seize an opportunity such as this.

Pantera, trying to subversively take a leadership position

The toxic had still not forgiven the little hound. His grudges ran dark and they ran deep and the insult of what she’d done to him last lesson had been evident in his every dark movement since. He’d made her pay for it. In the first few weeks following, he’d forced her to stay within the dark recesses of the cavern. She was a wiley little brat and he begrudgingly admitted she’d been lucky before in slipping from his watch, but, this time, he had not slept a second. All his watchful eyes were upon the storm eyed feral child that paced against the rough walls and there had been no time, nor opportunity for her to creep into the darkness of the swamps without him. And so she had stayed. For weeks, she slept and wound herself around in that awful darkness with not a word of complaint nor of threat on her lips. Her eyes, though, never ceased flashing with lightning, but hunger and thirst weighed upon her and slowly inched into her body like an infection. Her fingers and toes twisted painfully with it, but, of all the things he could have brought on her, this was a wholly familiar pain. And she endured. However, when the girl, weakened, still did not beg nor implore the sleepless toxic for respite, the spiteful creature harshly worsened his punishment. He poisoned her. Pantera had been doing this for some time now. Off and on, he’d brush his dark sides against her form and sweetly blessed her with the pain and hurt of his toxin. It was never too much, always just enough to prey upon her, but, also enough to push through and overcome with the intend that, one day, she would be immune. Thankfully, the dark magic of their bond had helped her frail body through the poisonings, but, this time, he’d done more than just a little flick. He’d brought her down.

Now, assured that she was too injured to make for the trees, the tired Toxin napped now and again to restore his strength. He hunted and breathed to his delight and, when feeling like a less malevolent leader, brought food to his little charge as she lay, panting and pained in the darkest corner of their lair. It was not his intent to kill her. She had to live to learn and learn she would. He wanted to make sure she never again took the opportunity to force him into such a position. His hound should know better. She should be the loyal dog he wanted her to be, one way or another. The girl, though, was just as relentless as he. Truly, they were a pair. While he would, under the guise of benevolence, bring her food and drink, she would only take nips at them. The majority of the presents remained uneaten and, especially when the dragon brought back something he was particularly proud of for her to partake in, the little hound would eat none of it or throw it back to him with her tired little paws and let it fall off his face with a wet slap. It was almost too faint for even him to hear, but, the quiet huffs of breath afterwards were unmistakable sounds of amusement. And it was strange to find such a sound coming from her throat. She still did not know pride, not truly, but, she knew well enough her situation and the noise just grew of its own accord without her understanding why. Even throwing back the food made little sense to the compass that spun within her. She knew, given food, she should eat it and pool her strength, but, again, something in her just felt right only taking what she needed. The fact that she ate any, however, brought satisfaction to her partner. Right then, they both had known she could not live without him. And this continued until the poison, heavy as it was, ran its course.

Despite his want for progress, Pantera accepted that baby steps may be nessisary to fully break the child. He’d be willing to put forth the effort for that prize, though, his patience was wearing thin. After nearly two months of his punishment, however, he was satisfied with what had come. It had taken its toll on him aswell, though. The lack of sleep and the need for constant watch had kept him from building up his flight strength for the most part and he felt, irately, that his paws had lost some of their potency. Nothing that couldn’t be rebuilt.

One morning, the pitch creature had finally let her free. The girl was gone within minutes and she did not return that night. When Pantera went to bed, her space was bare and cold, but, in the morning, he could smell her. She’d slept there, by him in the lair and, as he saw with his gleaming eyes, she’d left her own little present for him. A fat swamp rat lay, legs high in the air, dead as a doornail before his lofty perch. Pulling his mouth into pinched smile, the creature could not help but beam. Perhaps he’d done more to subjugate her than he thought. Yes, surely he gave her much too much credit for strength and spirit. However, as he bit into the dead animal, muck and mud squished out into his mouth. She’d stuffed it with marsh rot, and the look on his face, as she had seen him from the bushes, made something very warm and very human roll inside her. That was that. And, it was more than enough unnecessary nonsense for her for a lifetime, or, so she thought to herself. Nearly at 13, the girl sank back to her survivalist, animal tendencies and felt no more need to act so foolish. It was safer to look out for danger and keep safe than it was to be human. And, truly, it was not hard to give that up with so little experience with it. Her parents, had they been alive to see her make that choice, would have wept.

Days passed before the strange sonic calls began, but, when they did, the meaning was unmistakable. Pantera, with grin wiped off his face, really hadn’t much bothered to think about the dubious teachers that had probably more aimed to kill than educate them. He was roused, but not easily, and, stretching his great paws out from his now 50 foot length, heaved a great breath from his lungs. He was only just now recuperating from sleep deprivation, but, he’d be damned if he was late to any of these lessons. It was the principal of the thing, as it had always been. Jonna, however, was nowhere to be seen. She had frequently come back during the night to sleep where she knew there was less danger than out in the marshes, but, she stayed little. Pantera had, surprisingly, been discontented with her absence. Foremost, he was ill at ease without an eye upon her, but, something else in him also seemed to… perhaps… miss the strange little runt. Though, he would never demean himself to admit it. Perhaps it was just strange to feel someone around you, in you, but not see nor hear them about. It was just a trick of the magic. He persuaded himself it was not so much longing kindled in his chest as a useless product of their bond and, as he swept his neck around to catch sight of her ragged bear fur, he pursed his lips. Just as he turned back, there she was. She sat in front of him, as if she’d been there the whole time. Her grey eyes looked over him, unamused. He continued to purse his lips.

At the lesson, the girl once again began to pull herself inward. She turtled in his shadow and sank to the damp earth below in wary concern of the danger around her. Danger. Always danger here. Though, she had come to see that the creatures, while holding the potential for threat, seemed more concerned with just appeasing the elders instead of hunting or seeking prey for play. Time had persuaded her to be less concerned than she was initially… but not nearly unconcerned enough to keep from Pantera or to keep her distance… or to provide any unnecessary attention to herself. She was no fool, contrary to what her bonded thought. And her ears were perked to the world around her as Pantera’s were unhappily aimed to the teachers as they went on with their idiocy. Granted, he thought lots of others around here deserved dunce hats, but, these two just took the cake. However, this lesson may prove a boon to him. Team work and groups gave the opportunity for leadership… and for control. A thin smile curved along his long face as he stood with the prowess of a panther.

The wenches, however, could not leave it at that… they could never have it so simple. Instead, much to his chagrin, they decided to waste all of their time berating one of the other taintlings. He held no pleasantries for Knell, nor did he put forth opposition when the teachers rose insult to her, but he did roll his eyes at the completely useless display that it was. When the young sonic challenged the teachers, however, his ears and eyes turned to her. He blinked, taken to surprise by the bare buildup of emotion that suddenly rushed out of her mouth in a torrent. It was a tempest, a volcano erupting from her throat with heat and fire. And then, with little adieu, she came at them with ramming speed and, using one of the older sonics as a springboard, leapt at the pair with vicious temperament. The sound child took hold upon the bone’s side and clamped herself on there with a wild strength and Knell sought blood in payment for her troubles.

For a moment, trying to keep up with what was happening, the toxic stayed still where he was. His eyes followed the scene, but, his mind weighing the issues at hand. Working as a shell… here… now here was an opportunity, but it held a dangerous prospect and he was a shrewd serpent. Still… if all of them followed, well, it would be enough, perhaps. That would make it worthwhile and, then, this truly would be working as a team. With any luck, he would take them to lead, but, he would have to be quiet and sly. The sonic had made the first splash. It would be appropriate, perhaps, to keep to the ripples and then, if the circumstance presents itself then, he would make his own splash.

Heedless of his small rider, the dragon swept himself forward like a shadow and took to the heels of the sonic before looking back at the rest of the gathering. His voice hissed, somehow galvanizing despite its quiet tone. “You.” He said to them. No names, no insults, no frivolities. “Follow. Or lose the moment we’ve all been waiting for.” Follow. But follow whom?

Then, with wings flared like sheets of night, he reared back and let a jet of bright blue streak from his open maw. The acid was not directed at either of the two, but, fell to their heels in the muck. Immediately, corrosive steam seared from the wounded earth and it drifted upwards in a thick cloud to blind and hinder the bone pair. Jonna, however, took no such moment to attack or otherwise. She flared her nose, eyes hard and confused, but, quickly, she gathered herself up enough to move out of the area and situated her fur clad form in the safety of the shadow… but not Pantera’s this time. She would have no part in this danger.

Of course, after their fight against an entire friggen' village alongside the unlikely partners of Ate and Morgoroth, Chel's shoulder had contrived to get infected. It wasn't surprising, given the mud and the muck and how deep it'd gone, but it was very bothersome. It was almost more than a little bothersome, and had stricken her down for what may well have been two weeks, fighting fever and Lapin's attempts to help her both, until she was too tired to fight with Lapin and had given up and let him take her somewhere dry and reasonably clean and near cleanish water to bathe her arm at least daily. That had hurt, too, but she was a little busy at the time trying not to drop dead of dehydration or starvation to worry overmuch about it.

And then, she'd started feeling better. There was a wicked gash still in her arm that threatened to reopen if she did anything very strenuous, but soon that too was healing and holding, and Lapin pronounced that she probably wouldn't die now. He kept hunting while she kept healing, and since he was still growing at an alarming rate, he got better at it as time passed. Eventually Chel grew well enough to go out hunting with him, but the spot they'd found was one of the best they'd yet seen, so they stayed there and guarded it jealously from all comers.

When the next call to lessons came, Chel was well-healed and ready to kick someone's butt out of sheer boredom. She'd started arguing with Lapin again, not that he minded. She hadn't argued much when she'd been trying not to die, and it had bothered him far more than the friendly bickering.

"Lapin?" she asked with a deceptively bored curiosity of her dragon one day. He flopped his head back and looked at her.

"What?"

"You look like a dead bug when you lay like that, and it's ridiculous," she commented, chin resting in palm, elbow resting on knee. He twitched a paw and continued to consider his rider from upside down, his white wings sprawled out to either side and legs all akimbo.

"So what?" he asked finally.

"So it's not very dignified. Aren't you dragons supposed to be... I don't know. Dignified, or at least terrifying? You look more like a dead weasel than a dragon," she answered. He rolled over to his side and then to his belly and looked at his rider, who was looking smaller and smaller with every foot he added to his height. He was a full 35 ft. at least by now, and taller than his small rider by an easy margin.

"You've seen some of our classmates, right?" he asked sarcastically by way of disagreement.

"Yeah, well they're idiots," she grumbled. He pulled his head up off the ground and flicked both ears forward at her.

"That's not true. Some of them are worth the oxygen they use," he answered. And she had to agree with him. She hadn't seen Arden or Desriya or their dragons lately, but she would be the last person on earth to forget a pact, once it was made, and they'd made an agreement- or their dragons had, at the very least- to try and keep an eye out for each other.

She was about to make some other snide remark when the unlikely chorus sounded over the Tainted lands, and she made a face. Lapin, however, perked up and gave it a listen. Interesting.

"Damn harpies," Chel muttered as she walked over and hauled herself into the ramshackle, odds'n'ends saddle she'd made for Lapin.

"Aw, come on. It could be fun! You have to admit, they're a laugh a minute, those two."

"Yeah sure, if you like dying. Which I don't, particularly, and of the two of us, I'm the one with the experience."

Lapin ignored her and with a pump of his four wings, set the flying for the lesson. He'd gotten better at flying, which was good. He'd looked like a dying moth that first time...

When they arrived, the lesson masters were already in fine form, but then something happened that made Lapin's whole body light up and made Chel want to slink off after one of the other riders for the nearest dark shadow. There was going to be a rebellion! Lapin thought it was just splendid.

"Lapin, you're going to get us both killed," Chel hissed as he went rigid, like a hunting dog, watching what was going on. He looked over at her with that foolish gape-grin on his maw, yellow foxfire eyes all alight and crest all fluffed out with sheer, childish glee at causing some serious chaos. Chel knew she'd already lost this argument. "Go hide, and I'll find you when it's over," he said sincerely, nosing her back towards a shadow where another of their classmates had slunk. She took this as a dismissal, but laid a palm on the bride of his nose nonetheless. "You. Don't die. Got it?" she asked, and he nodded eagerly. She went to occupy the same shade as the Toxic's rider, folding herself up into a tiny ball to escape any notice.

Lapin, for his part, watched with fascination as the Toxic whose rider his had just joined tried to take charge. It was annoying, in a way, as he'd planned on acting on his own. Then again... it would be convenient to have a scapegoat, and if he had to pick between the Sonic and the Toxic... he didn't much care for the Toxic. Too slithery. Like a snake. And Lapin didn't like snakes much. So, rather than ignoring the larger black dragon, he bounded forward after him.

"Follow you?" he asked, flipping open his own white wings in a mocking bow, "Well, perhaps this one time," he said as he dipped and then bounced back- just in case, adding, "Princess." Then he bounded out of the way and into the air, also going for Chondrocyte to assist Knell, seeking to sink his long claws into her other shoulder, but going for her wings, seeking to take out some of the membrane or perhaps just be a pest, gas leaking from all paws and his open mouth, though he was more focused on his physical weapons than the growing cloud around his body.

Almost an entire year had passed since Desriya had been torn from her companions by the Razor Viscer and escaped him, only to be found again and placed among the degenerate masses in front of the clutches of Tainted eggs. In that time, at some point, she knew not exactly when, she'd turned fifteen. There had been no party to celebrate her survival of another year, no songs, no gifts from her sisters or brother. No hugs from her mother and father. They were all dead, save for her brother, who she should have paid heed to so many months ago, and she was alone. Or had been. Until she'd been forced to take a crystal to bond to a creature that she now respected more than loathed. Even if she hadn't finally been coaxed by the darkness radiating from that ovoid shape eight months before, Paraffin would have found her and chosen her anyway.

It was because of Paraffin that she was still alive. Proper and controlling as she was, Desriya couldn't fault her for that. With no survival skills to begin with, the young woman would have died within a few days out here. But Paraffin burned away the rot, lit up the darkness, and purified whatever she could with her element. Whether or not it was simply for her own benefit at first or not didn't matter. It had given Des a chance at life. A chance to learn and survive. She had, and Paraffin had her human toy because of it.

"You are so skinny," Paraffin said, sounding offended as she looked over her rider's physique for the hundredth time. "You need to eat more. I cook it just for you my dear, but you nibble like one of these rats," she said, disgusted.

Desriya only glanced at her and shrugged as she mended a vest that she'd procured from a line outside of a rural village living off of the fetid rivers this side of the mountains. The pair had only gone to the mainland once or twice in search of food or shelter, but they always went back. Part of the reason for that was that Paraffin was searching again for Gloire, whom she hadn't seen since he'd come to introduce himself. She hadn't a clue where to look, and since the Murks was the last place she saw him, she hoped that she'd see him there again. It was a long shot considering the condition of the swamps that they were forced to call their home, but the Fire was fixated on her sire's talents. And Desriya, being the smaller and more insignificant of the pair, hadn't been able to convince her otherwise.

Paraffin sighed, a puff of smoke rising from her nostrils as she knew her rider wouldn't give her any further explanation. She opened her jaws to say something else, but was interrupted by the horrid bleating that filled the swampy Murks and carried to the dens and ears of each and every wyrmling there. It could be mistaken for nothing else. Fire ignited along Paraffin's spine as she visibly shuddered from that terrible sound. "Of course. Knew we wouldn't get a reprieve forever."

Desriya grumbled to herself. She was so done with this lessons. So done with Jadra and Chondrocyte. Three times. Three times she'd almost been killed and one of those times she'd been tortured to within an inch of her sanity. She was stronger now because of it, but at the price of being heavily damaged. Where she was once hopeful, kind, and caring she was now cold, aloof, and had no qualms about taking a life if she had to. Weapons were no longer a foreign and barbaric thing. She had several crude blades now, all of which she kept in the best and sharpest condition possible. She was better at dodging attacks, coming back in for the kill and hitting where it hurt, and recovering when she missed. Desriya, with her shorter stature and smaller frame, had become something of a demon on a fighting field. She'd killed once and found that she didn't care any farther than she'd come out of the fight alive. People out here were as bad as some of the dragons. Only predators preying upon the weak. Well, she wasn't weak anymore.

Without another word, Desriya stood and brushed herself off, strapping a few of her crude blades to her legs and taking two more, which she would place into their straps on the inner sides of the great horns sweeping back from her dragon's skull. "Let's go then, see what nonsense they've planned for us today shall we?" The Fire was no more enthused to go than her rider, but best they went and avoid the repercussions. She lowered her great head--now much larger thanks to her near sixty foot length, which was easily half her full growth--and allowed Desriya to take her place in the small, inconspicuous saddle that sat squarely between her horns and just at the base of her skull. The placement was a necessity, since Desriya was far from fireproof and Paraffin was far from being able to control the volatility of the flames that rose from her back. She could make them harmless, but any height of emotion could quickly change that.

The short-legged Fire took off with a bounding step, her massive wings catching what still air their was. Her take offs were never all that graceful, much to her chagrin, but her landings and actual flight were decent enough. As they approached the epicenter of the racket that roused them, Desriya sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes, "Wonderful. They're only this irritating when they have something dangerous planned."

Paraffin said nothing, but landed near the other wyrmlings, picking out Lapin among them. A grin lit her golden eyes. The explosive nature of their elements could make things...very interesting should they ever feel the need to work together in those respects. She and Desriya might have greeted him and Lapin, only the buzzards that saw fit to teach them were already harping on them about what they wanted them to do. The sudden, biting remark made at Knell made Paraffin blink in surprise. But it didn't stop there, it continued almost to the point where they could feel the ire radiating off of Knell. Paraffin shifted her weight...not uncomfortably, but more in anticipation for what rose silently on invisible wings as the chiding continued. A deep rumble arose in her chest and heat began to build at her core. Flames licked upward from her back as the Fire watched intently the actions of the Sonic wyrmling and their teachers. They could do it now. There were at least three or four of them large enough now to actually be able to take on their teachers, if they could work together on it. They weren't insignificant tiny wyrms just hobbling out of their shells. And Paraffin had been waiting. Waiting for the opportune moment which Knell instantly presented the moment she launched herself onto Chondrocyte.

They'd nearly killed her, nearly killed her human, a privilege that should be only reserved for her should she choose it, and tortured them both to within an inch of their sanity. It might have been a method to teach them, but both Paraffin and Desriya were of the mind that their instructors truly cared nothing for their lives. Likely they cared not if their superiors found out that they'd killed off half of the class. While Paraffin could appreciate the enjoyment of watching things devolve, she preferred not to be part of what was being destroyed. And Knell alone didn't stand a chance. Paraffin wasn't going to let her smaller classmate become some kind of gruesome example.

"Go Paraffin," Desriya's words were spat through clenched teeth and anger seethed through their bond. Memories of pain and fear washed over the rider on her neck like liquid fire. Her heart leapt at the opportunity to see the Bone pair dead...or at the very least as wounded and broken as they.

The Fire didn't have to be told twice. She didn't even hear Pantera as she launched herself into the air once more. She wheeled around, sending a spray of liquid down around the Bone and her rider which ignited only seconds after hitting the ground. A semi-circle of flames caught their instructors in a burning trap. If all the others took care of Chondrocyte, Jadra would not escape unscathed. Once the cage of fire rose around them, Paraffin turned and descended toward the rusted form clinging to the Bone and called down to him. "Lapin dear, remember how...explosive we are together," she laughed, her airy golden voice like a clarion bell sounding high above them. If the Ruin heard her and remembered the volatility of their elements together in one place, they could blow their teachers into next week.

((Tried to stay kinda vague on Jadra's doings because, I don't know what she's doing XD But the intent was to keep her from getting away and leaving Chon to suffer their fate alone lol))

The past two months had been a godsend for Damien and Bucha. With the advent of spring whatever life there was on the Desolation flourished. Hunting was better and with the various flora blossoming finding shelter was better than ever. Damien, however, knew that it was too good to be true. Something, someone, would come along and ruin it for the Lightning pair. They would fall back on hard times and the hunger pains would begin again in earnest. He didn't want to go back to that but he knew it was inevitable. Bucha still was not fully grown, and that meant that they wouldn't be able to get off the island. Despite the Tainted's heavy losses they still had the forces necessary to mount up a border patrol. If they could just make it and “graduate” they would be free... they would never have to worry about going hungry again. They would be their own lord and master, to go wherever they pleased... the sweet, tantalizing dream consumed Damien as he laid down next to Bucha's side, the spectacle of her pulsating wings carrying him of into sleep.

He hadn't heard such an awful chorus of sounds in a long time, and he had hoped that he never heard them again; but knowing the Taints they were bound to bring the lessons back, not wanting their newest recruits to join the Legion half baked. Growling the boy rolled over and tried to cover his ears, but to no avail as the horrid sound continued to slip through his fingers like water. A cold dread rose and settled in his stomach as he forced himself to wake. What would they have planned for them today? It had to be equally horrible considering they had missed a month. Whatever it was, he didn't care, he was ready to take anything they could throw at him. After all what they concocted couldn't be that bad. Compared to all the previous lessons (save for the shrapnel bomb) he had faced much, much worse. Pulling himself out from under Bucha's heavy wing he breathed deeply as he stood up and stretched the sleepiness away. Rubbing his remaining green eye he turned around and knelt by his dragon's head.

She had grown even bigger with the past two months. Now 30 feet long and bigger than a large Rosemary, Bucha had become increasingly more difficult to disguise. Her bright blue body stood out as a beacon in the open and Damien had to resort to staying near what little forested areas there were, for the dense foliage often helped to conceal her form. Caves were few and far between, and he preferred to stay out of them normally. After all one couldn't know what lurked deep in the dark, and he preferred not to get ambushed. His crystal rested against the fabric of his ratty black shirt as he grabbed one of Bucha's antelope like horns and shook. He watched her slowly stir as he continued to shake and say, “Bucha? Bucha come on you gotta wake up. We got a lesson.” At that the blue Lightning rolled over and tucked her head under her wing. “Don't want to go to lesson”, she mumbled. Damien sighed as he rubbed her neck. “We have to go, you know what they'll do to us if we don't...” Getting up Damien walked over to a tiny stream nearby and splashed some water on his face. As he rubbed the tiredness away he turned to see Bucha rising and stretching, her white fangs and green mouth flashing in the early morning light. Wiping the excess water on his sleeve he walked over to his dragon.

Silently he patted her shoulder, signaling that he was ready to go. Bucha huffed as she let Damien board, his body now becoming a familiar weight on her shoulders. “I wish those whores would stay gone”, the Lightning growled as she bounded twice and then lifted off, her wings pumping as she was soon carried into a dragon's domain. Sighing softly Damien patted her shoulder. “You and me both.” The rest of the flight was bathed in silence, neither wanting to discuss anything in particular when they were headed to a dreaded lesson. Bucha's wings flashed orange as they neared their instructors. Annoyance was felt on both ends of the bond as Bucha landed with a backwing. Damien swung his leg over and landed with ease. To distract himself from the Bone pair he cast this eyes about to see who else was present so far. It wasn't many, but the one thing that did strike him was the absence of the Sonic's rider. He didn't know the other guys name but he did wonder what had happened to him.

Bucha too was curious as she cast a sidelong glance at Knell. The jeers that their instructors threw at the Sonic did not escape her ears. A few of the words hung in her ears and she couldn't help but think about them. About her relationship with her rider. Would... Damien do that? Would he leave her? The thought sent a prick of fear through her. She didn't want him to leave, not in the least bit. She was sure that some of her classmates also felt the same way about their riders. Damien was hers and she was his... They were supposed to be together. But did Damien want that? Did he want to stay with her? She couldn't stop the thoughts from coming. But she was torn away as she turned to look at Knell. Surprise crawled up her spine as the blue female regarded the other with a questioning look. Sure she hated the pair as much as everyone else... but what did Knell have in store? The lightning would get her answer as she watched the young Sonic launch herself into the air and go straight for their teachers. Shock painted itself across her face as she took a cautionary step back.

“Bucha!” Damien said as he tried to get her attention. Things were getting crazy quick. Their Toxic and Ruin classmates had decided to join the rebellion and Damien was sure that the others would not be far behind. They needed to get out of here and quick. This was their chance to escape! Damien wanted to take advantage of it. Would Bucha? The lightning growled as she watched the events unfold. The desire to join them igniting and all but consuming her. Only the presence of her rider held her back. What if one of them hurt Damien? She looked down as Damien slapped her shoulder to get her attention. “Bucha we have to get out of here! Take the chance and leave.” He hissed under his breath, making sure to be careful so no one would hear. “No Damien! I will make them pay for what they did to you! Go, get out of here, I don't want you to get hurt.” The man tried to argue but was silenced when Bucha shoved him with her snout. Silently telling him to get as far away as possible, should things go wrong. At that point she turned her attention to the pair that had caused her and her rider so much pain.

A harsh growl rose in her throat as Bucha leaped, wings flared. The colors on the underside pulsing red and black. She was ready to kill if need be. In fact she wanted to be the one to end their miserable lives. She roared as she landed on the larger dragon's back. She clawed, bit, and mangled as sparks trailed down her arms and legs in blue waves. If she could just reach the spine and incapacitate Chon then she would be satisfied. She did it not for her classmates, but for revenge.

Two months. Two months since their last lesson and Pompeii was delighted by his ability of flight. It even seemed to draw Quinn out of his dark shell of hatred, particularly when the Bulkhead soared over the open waters. The more they flew together, the more Quinn began to make connection between sailing and flying. The air currents were like the waves of the water. Pompeii's body moved like the rocking of a boat, his shoulders constantly in motion with ever beat of his wings. The only difference was how much faster than a ship they went and Quinn quite enjoyed it. He had always though his ship had been fast... But thinking back on it, it was nothing compared to Pompeii.

Of course, the duo didn't simply fly around for two months. Truthfully, Quinn had been working on rebuilding his connections. Now that he and Pompeii could roam and travel, he was rebuilding ties into the darker side of society, worming his way back into the black market, pirating himself new clothes to replace what the Murks had turned into rags, new weapons, and adding fuel to the stories that grew like wild fire. News of his ship sinking had spread swiftly and now that he had been seen as well and alive, people were claiming him a devil-- a walking, talking Davy Jones. That was perfectly fine to Quinn. He added to the image, looking fierce in his dark, sturdy clothing, his inhuman eyes frightening everyone. He looked half wild from his time in the Murks and when he first saw himself in a true mirror he thought himself a demon from hell.

Perfect.

Because he certainly wasn't human any longer. And Pompeii was awed by the change in his bonded. Taking the man to inland, Pompeii was nervous. It was shortly after Knell's rider had abandoned her and it was no secret to him that it was turmoil for her. He made it clear to Quinn that if he tried to leave him then he would burn all of the mainland until he found him then devour him bit by bit. Quinn waved off the threat.
"Dun ya be o' insecure lump."
And then he was off and Pompeii was left to wait. He had wanted to follow Quinn. See the wonders of the mainland, but Quinn had convinced him to stay behind. "It'll be o' glorious thin' when yer shown... Ye'll be o' hellish figure an' b'come the thin' o' nightmares, plaguin' 'em soddin' maggots fer th' rest o' their lives."
This sounded delicious and Pompeii willing stayed behind. He always loved a good entrance. And if it meant he had to wait a while longer, then so be it.

But when Quinn returned, he carried a new confidence. One that Pompeii hadn't seen in him before. He questioned the pirate the entire flight home, demanding answers.
And they were so simple that Pompeii couldn't grasp them. "It feel good t' get back int' what I be good at," was all Quinn said. What more was there? He loved thriving off of others hard work. It what made him a fantastic pirate. Even more so, he didn't mind working himself to get what he wanted, even willing to get down and dirty where most captains wouldn't go. That was what made him a great captain.
Pompeii didn't press for a better answer. He was content to see Quinn finally taking action and not simply sulking and plotting. He wouldn't admit it, but Quinn's silence and withdrawn ways had been worrying him.

Strangely, when the obnoxious so-called 'singing' of their tormentors who claimed to be teaching them rang across the island, Quinn was the first of the pair to be up. He looked at his Bulkhead, smirking darkly as the wyrmling got to his feet and towered over the man's six-foot height.

"Mornin'. I smell o' change on th' wind."

Pompeii raised his muzzle towards the sky, sniffing the air. He rumbled discontentedly. "I smell nothing." But he did not doubt the pirate. Often Quinn would speak of such things as if they were things he could smell or see when really it was more of a gut feeling.

"S' thar, Pom," he said, jumping onto one of the bulkhead's massive talons and climbing up his craggy hide with as much ease as he used to have scaling the rigging of a ship. The tides were changing and though Quinn wasn't sure how he knew, he still knew. "Let's go an' see what be goin' on."

Pompeii unfurled his wings, an ashen cloud drifting off of his large form. Whump. His shoulders strained. Whump. He sat back on his haunches. Whump. His hind legs tensed. Whump. Pompeii launched himself into the air, his powerful hind legs kicking his bulk away from the earth. Each time his wings went taut and slapped the air away to keep him aloft there was a low but loud 'whump' sound. He rumbled and soared towards their lessons, each eye on his body on the lookout for the gathering. It didn't take them long to find it and when Pompeii landed, Quinn clambered out onto Pompeii's wing-shoulder, watching their so called 'teachers' ramble on.

He scoffed. They were supposed to work together? He scanned his bonded's hatch mates, Pompeii already locating those he had alliances with. Heuli would surely assist them. She was his first mate, after all. His second in command and most trusted crew mate. Even Quinn was slowly relaxing his guard around her. Pompeii might even be so foolish enough to call her his friend.
Ate might work beside him. The two had an unsteady truce for the moment. They were similar in size and posed threats to one another, so usually they left each other alone, occasionally working together if it benefited them both.
Last the pair's eyes fell on Knell.

Knell. Quinn felt so sorry for her. Not pity, but sorry. And he tried to help in any way possible. Caldre had been something of a friend and though Quinn couldn't blame him for doing what he did-- for Quinn would have done the same if he actually had something to go back to-- he still felt sorrow for Knell. Even Pompeii had resorted to trying to help, particularly since they had been one of the first pairs to stumble upon her after she returned from Caldre's abandonment. They even went so far as to leave kills near her 'territory' for her to find and feast on, if for no other reason than to make her life a little easier. Besides, she was a part of their crew now.

So when the two Taints began teasing her, Pompeii bristled, a low growl bubbling in his chest, magma dripping sluggishly from his scales and falling to the ground with a thick, wet 'drip' sound. Even Quinn bared his teeth in a silent snarl, his age mixing with Pompeii's. Their emotions fed the other's and did nothing but to make them both angrier.

Their anger faltered when they saw the young Sonic's rage. Knell threw herself at their elders, out for blood. Quinn and Pompeii watched in shock as she fought for any hold on Chon. Neither of them were sure whether her hatred made her brave or incredibly stupid. Whichever it was, it was infectious. Pantera seized the moment of shock and chaos to try and take lead. That alone was enough to snap the duo out of their shock.

Pompeii laughed harshly, voice graveled and thunderous as he spoke. "Foolish Toxic... Let him play pretend." He whipped around, head swinging in a mighty arc. "Heuli!" He bellowed. "To me!" He brought his head up, eyes locking on the mutiny happening in front of his eyes. It was exciting.

He cocked his head towards Ate. "Will you be joining?" he rumbled, but he could not wait long for the answer. Quinn was already uncoiling one of the ropes he had tied and strapped to the saddle upon Pompeii's back.

"Oi!" he called to Pompeii, pointing to Knell. This was where Pompeii looked to him and his wisdom of battles previous to their bonding. "Yell t' th' lass t' blow out 'em ears!" He scanned the ground, more dragons already leaping into the madness, Pompeii already bellowing out Quinn's commands to Knell as his voice carried over the snarling far easier than Quinn's. "Heuli!" Quinn himself bellowed out. "Spit at 'em eyes!" He fixed his bonded in a stare, black and green eyes shining with spirits blazing with the fuel of a promised battle. "Ye use yer size, mate! Give yer mate o' good shot and keep th' bitch from her bonded wench! Ya rip that beastie up!"

They would need every advantage they could get. It didn't take an educated man to know this was madness. But madness was his life and it wouldn't be the first time he had been fool hardy and still come out on top! So with that, Quinn tossed down the rope, swinging down like some stuntman from a certain Pirate movie their realm would never see the daylight of-- no, they got the real thing, but better. Because everything was better with dragons. Pompeii watched Quinn land among the madness and draw his new cutlass. His target was the she-bitch herself, Jadra, and he didn't dawdle in his attack, rushing the woman.

Pompeii didn't stand by to see much more. His six jaws split wide, a deafening roar shaking the world around him before he charged in, using his size to clear a way for Heuli. He slammed into Chon, his jaws snapping shut on whatever purchase he could get on the Bone's throat, dragging her head down for his first mate.

Ganja laid on the beach of darker, silty sand, the tide slowly drawing closer. His hands rested behind his head, legs sprawled out as he took in the... Well it wasn't quite sun. The sun itself was hidden behind a few layers of dark, dreary clouds, but the dim greyish light that did come through, Ganja enjoyed. Part of him did miss his island dearly, but he fought with himself to keep the optimism inside alive. He had Heuli! Sure, many people would view her as a monster, but there was a level of affection that he could feel. She, unlike most of her brethern, didn't seem keen on eating him. Not yet at least, and he was sure it would stay that way. Although she made threats, about how irritating his happy-go-lucky nature was, she never acted on them.

"Oi, whatcha doin, Gan?" Came the familiar, shrill voice. The colorful abyssal launched herself up the shore, slithering up the wet sand to her resting partner. By now, she was forty-five feet in length, and stood at nearly 8 feet tall at the shoulder. And she wouldn't stop growing either, although he knew at some point, the size would even out and grow far slower.

Ganja craned his neck up, peeping open an eye at the toothy beast above him. He chuckled and waved in front of his face.

"Well, ah wos relaxin' till ah gotta wiff of ya smelleh fish breat," He chuckled. She blew in his face, and he coughed. The fish breath was not something he was exaggerating, but he kept laughing as she waddled off.

"All you do is.. lay around. And ride on my back when I go places." She called from over her back as he sat up. He shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. Brushing the sand off his legs he followed her.

"Fo' now, I see not'ing else t' do." He replied with a sigh. "I am content and yet... bo'd."

"Bored? You have the whole damn desolation to yourself. Go get a good fuck on with some chick, kill things, I don't fucking know," She spat between gnarled, sharp teeth. He shrugged as he walked beside her, the abyssal heading towards the jungle growth. Most likely to find more things to eat. However she halted when a sound rang over the desolation. It sounded... odd and different, not like a normal call to lessons, but obviously, it was one. The abyssal made a noise of disgust. "2 months and now they call us! Augh.. Ganja come on."

"Ahm comin', ahm comin'," He replied. She settled into the ground so he could grab the makeshift (and currently wet) saddle, and swing himself up. Then, she took off, half sliding through the swamp and brush, half running and walking. All 8 eyes darted around for the heated behemoth that was her 'captain'. She was, according to his terms, his 'first mate'. According to Ganja, that meant they were on good and close terms. She liked it that way; Being close to someone with strength and power meant a higher chance she would live. Not that she greatly feared for her life.

They came upon their teachers having a riveting conversation upon mothers being whores; Ganja sat there with his placid smile, more or less zoning out their banter, but Heuli giggled at their talk loudly as she wormed over to Pompeii and his rider. He was snarling at the other hatchlings that were poking fun at Knell - who had thrown herself in anger at their teachers. Heuli felt not sympathy nor care for the sonic, unlike, it seemed, Pompeii and his now changed rider. Ah well. If he saw some value to the riderless sonic, she supposed she might possibly be able to suck up her distaste. If she was needed to.

They were given there instructions, however it seemed a rebellion was forming. The bone and her rider were being targeted now, Ganja watching the beginnings of the lesson-turned-mutiny with a dark curiosity. In all his time as a taint, he'd yet to truly kill anyone or anything out of cold blood, sheer desire to kill. Heuli could say the same, but she had more of a blood fervor in her than Ganja... Now.. he was curious for a taste of killing... Heuli gnashed her jaws as Pompeii called to her, after laughing at Panteras attempt to take control. No way her captain was about to let some poison rat take control!

They surged forward, Pompeii forcing his way through the others while Heuli followed behind, feeling the acid in her stomach roiling for use. For months she had been dining on sea delicacies, poisonous slugs and fish included. The poison in her pouch would be pretty damn potent. She went off to one side as he went for her head to bring it down, the abyssal opening her maw to release a wet spray of potent stomach acid.

Ganja, however, had leaped off the abyssal, one scimitar in his hand while the other remained on Heulis saddle. He wove between Pompeii and towards Quinn and Jadra, ready to kill. Ready to kill, for no reason he could decifer aside from the curiosity of blood lust.

A pair of months had elapsed, ticked away like grains of desert sand scattered by the wind. Flight together was becoming easier as well as endurance building, each day of practice yielding more distance covered than the last. Every flex of muscle strengthened sinew for days to come. But for every new stroke to hone blade with whet stone, a twinge of flowering onerous whispers sulked in the shadowed recesses of the mistress’ mind. While Guillotine brushed the misguided absence of the notorious pair of Sheathes aside with a callous flick of her tail, Isil found it harder to feign indifference.

Being parted from Novy for so long was clawing at her insides in ways she thought long dead and buried. She had become a huntress of the basest instincts, unable to care for another life in the same way she cherished her own. Yet here she stood, incapable of chasing away the strange void in her chest with thoughts of bloodletting the way she once had. His absence due to the impromptu desire to flaunt his newfound rank on the vile seas as a pirate extraordinaire, Isil could only frown the day he parted from her, powerless in the vain wish to join him as the status of a growing wyrmling pair shackled them to the mainland until graduated as fully fledged members of the legion.

“Really, dearest Isil, does it vex you so that he-“

Guillotine’s statement was cut short with the sudden intrusion of poorly orchestrated notes marring the silent morning. Hissing shrilly in agitation, the Razor jerked her head towards the commotion, quilled crest rising with the tensing of musculature. Piercing green eyes pinpointed the direction of the dissonant racket, narrowing ominously in muddled disdain and annoyance.

“It seems our attendance is...required...” she derided, cocking her angular head to peer at her human bond. Isil however made no instantaneous movement to acknowledge her partner. A displeased frown pulled at the Razor’s thin lips, sharp gaze quizzical as she assessed her chosen’s lack of reply. Unexpected irritation simmered within the architectural chest, ill befit emotion clawing within her towards her own rider’s lack of rousing. Instead of take notice of her dragon’s words, Isil’s unfocused honey gaze remained fixed loosely on the horizon, wistfully willing the wasteland be unexpectedly flooded by the roaring ocean and return of her scarred significant other.

Impatience finally reached boiling point for the maturing Razor, and with a lash of her bladed tail, raked open the soft flesh of Isil’s calf, marking her with a series of shallow, parallel lacerations. The pointed spice of pain mulled into heated pleasure as the initial sensation of discomfort gave rise to blissful enjoyment. She closed her eyes, awareness redirected back to the present, Guillotine’s scathing outburst having proved fruitful. Isil’s voice returned to its familiar purr of polished metal, ire melting away from her chosen as quickly as it had come, “Come now, darling, best be off.”

With a sultry nod Isil set to oiled movement, retrieving and securing the worn, shoddy saddle with a disapproving grimace. It was evident in the way she pursed her pouting lips into a deeper frown that the ragtag saddle repelled her prim tastes, but she fixed the traces and swung into the seat all the same. The first item on her agenda after they were cut free as wyrmlings risen to accepted dragon pairs would be to commission a new saddle to match the grandeur of her gleaming partner, or so help her, slit the throats of every leatherworker until one came up to snuff.

Wings sheared the air like blades carving through frail tissue, catching and refracting the sun’s brilliant rays in shafts of white light. The flight was a relatively short one, distance more easily traversed by air now that they were capable. Walking the cloying filth of the Murks was now just a distant, ghastly memory which needn’t be relived wherever reasonably possible. And to the Razor pair, that reasonably possible spanned a considerable amount of opportunities. Soon the recognizable figures of their Bone charges and arriving classmates swept into view, beckoning Guillotine to pull close her pinions and begin her silky decent.

Tucked into a languorous half-dive, the copper alighted on the defiled ground with a clipped, prancing gate akin to an elegant doe. Finally drawing to a halt, the young dragoness stiffened her figure, one moment a lucid, mechanical wonder and the next a frozen statue of coated metal. Guillotine watched with unblinking eyes as their mentors engaged their unwitting class, setting the stakes for a group effort to hunt and take down a larger Sekkaian adversary. The young Razor had just begun reveling the soon-to-be thrill of the hunt when her reverie was rudely broken by thrumming bass, resounding vibrations filtering through her copper plates.

Isil still firmly in place between her angular shoulders, Guillotine swaned her neck into an eloquent curve, spotlighted attention now focused on the lone Tainted Sonic and her faceoff with the jeering instructors. She was just internalizing how foolishly ridiculous her hatchmate was being when all at once the game was changed, a gauntlet thrown down for which the overseers and pupils certainly did not expect.

A call for rebellion had been issued.

Dusky blue blaze of trembling bass notes lead the assault, Knell launching from entrenched Sonic musician onto the great Bone figurehead. A riot began shortly following, classmates bounding for the fray with heedless abandon. Isil and Guillotine remained firmly planted, however, eyes searching for either a clear opening to commandeer a striking victory or the first signs of broken efforts with which to garner their departure from the punishable ranks. They were no cowards, but likewise they were not ravenous fools. Their battles would be picked with cunning and edged in triumph, not lives wasted by a foolish child’s uprising against buffeting fools that fashioned themselves draconic professors.

“Just another day in paradise…” drawled Guillotine uninterestingly.

“So it is.” Isil replied nonchalantly, procuring a file from a tuck of folded cloth and beginning to work on her immaculate manicure whilst awaiting their next move on the devil’s chessboard.

The weeks passed in scores, a rush of days bleeding into nights for the Influenza pair. What little flora the Desolation sprouted up from the muck in sparse patches; it wasn't much, at least compared to the bountiful plains of the far east's lush jungles. Scrawny herbivores descended upon them in meager hoards reduced to pitiful excuses of life from the onslaught of the growing wyrmlings. Famine-hardened cattle grazed the germinating plantlife and bore calves, and from the dark recesses of the brittle swamp forests, dragons waited to spring.

Carcinoma and Jezebel thrived on what they could catch. While not fine dining, it was an increase in their normal rations of carrion and bark, and it made for their own growth. Tiny and barely anything a self-respecting Taint would call a dragon, the Influenza now stretched twenty feet in length and towered over the previous natives of the murky forests. His body, although rather thin and delicately-limbed like the rest of his kin, sprung up on the festering diet of bovine and vultures. Butter-soft claws hardened to iron-strong talons, parchment-paper wings extended and grew to support the increasing size of their charge, and the needle that hid in the tip of his tail like a coiled barb became an increasingly formidable weapon in his gruesome experiments. While minute in comparison to the titanous Bulkheads, he was no longer the scrap of puke-green hide, and made quite the show to make sure his classmates knew this.

Carcinoma knew exactly how lethal he and his partner were despite their size, and when the call came to attend the Bone's lessons once more, the young Tainted pair sauntered into the clearing with their heads held level and twin smirks pressed upon their thin faces. The little dragon slipped past their compatriots with arrogant tongue-flicks and rested, content to watch and wait for the events to unfold like severed innards. Their task laid before them shortly after their arrival; working as a shell. The pair narrowed their eyes in hardly concealed unison. Teamwork, at least part from themselves, wasn't really their strong point. However, just as the Influenza began to shuffle his wings in annoyance, a sonic boom of a cry sounded out and the dark hide of the lone Sonic among their clutch sprang like a canon at the Bone.

"Sound the cavalry!" the dragon laughed cheesily, neck bobbing in a unnaturally grotesque manner. The thin bones of his neck stood out like sticks in a water baloon which threatened to pierce the thin skin of the disease-carrier's hide. He feigned to wipe a tear from his eye and leaned back on his haunches to chortle again. "Our saviors have launched the first battalion! Oh, this is too good," he continued, giggling, to lean down to Jezebel's level. The girl's face was set in stone, though her eyes bristled with scarcely concealed fury. He grinned and eyed the ensuing battle royal taking place in the middle of the lesson grounds. "What say you, dear one? Did you wish to join the imbiciles in their suicide attempt? Go for it if you wish to maim yourself, but I think I'll sit right here and watch the show."

The young woman's body twitched spasmodically, the invisible gossamer strings that guided her doll-like movements jerking with violent intent. "Join them?" she hissed. Whatever composure she often steadied herself with corroded away at the acidic opportunity splaying itself before her very eyes. Jezebel began to inch forward and quietly slipped a hand beneath her ragged clothes to pull out a thin sheet of curved metal. "I'll lead the fucking parade."

"Oh hohoho," the dragon sang. "How sweet, she's beginning to take after me. Good luck, dearie, try not to get your neck snapped." Carcinoma waved a tiny forearm after the disappearing woman before he stood and began to circle the events, a tiny vulture amidst the enormous bodies of his clutchsiblings. The pustule-ridden wyrmling slipped behind Pompeii's enormous sets of feet and scuttled to sit away from the clout, a relatively desolate space to watch the turning events. As he had stated, he had little desire to approach the warring bodies with so little ammunition compared to the others that had attacked. His preferred method of decimation took a bit longer and a bit more patience than simply jumping the gun.

The woman, he had no doubt, he could kill, but the Bone was a more troublesome prey item and her hide was nigh impenetrable to even his scalpel of a needle. He supposed he could cough into her face and hope for the best of his arsenal to invade her lungs, but he'd not come out of the confrontation unscathed, especially so when he was so grossly outsized and outweighed by the pigpile of dragons. Maybe if they managed to maim the Bone and crack her hide he'd slip in and infect the wounds, but for now, he shook his head and smiled, content to merely watch and wait for the brutes to do their damage.

Jezebel's safety was a concern, of course, but her brash reaction was unfavorable in a partner. That much made him displeased, and for such a course, she should face punishment for her behavior. The Influenza narrowed his eyes to slits and sat down comfortably, shuffling his paper-thin wings, and proceeded to watch her progress with a seemlingly disconcerned gaze. Whatever reprimand she deserved would not come from him, he decided, but the woman she had made her target, if she managed to get hurt at all. She was skilled, of course, and had trained with him in becoming more nimble on her feet, but he doubted that his assistance would be needed. He looked onward like a lioness, the twitching tip of his bulbous tail the only indicator that he was even remotely interested in the proceeding events.

Jezebel wove between the assembled bodies of her classmates, side-stepping the kingly Toxic as he reared back, and scooted around the edge of the flailing draconic bodies toward the human woman like a missle. She broke into a sprint twenty feet from Jadra and sprung without a sound, holding the unsheathed khopesh brandished before her like a spear. The blade's cold steel edge curved in the wicked mimicry of a dragon's descending talon. If it hit, it'd do terrible damage, but she was foolish to think that this woman would simply take the bait she offered.

Chon and Jadra witnessing small rebellion, taking damage, and heckling all the way

No one could say they hadn’t brought it on themselves. They were dealing with little monstrosities, after all, and, time after time, they poked and prodded the little whelps as if they were made of nothing but butterscotch pudding and drowned ants. The ants, it seemed, were not quite so drown as they appeared and, as of right now, they had amass themselves into a frenzy with biting mandibles at the ready, drunk off their own rage. And when those mandibles came a-nipping, that was something neither the dragon nor the human fully expected. And it cost them something terrible.

They really just should have seen it coming. Instead, they had chosen to quip.

The butt of the joke, and a lonely soul without the shadow of her partner, the young sonic was the catalyst to an explosion. No sooner had the insults been loosed, than the first fuse was lit and the wyrmling broke her mouth wide to give back as much as she’d taken. Her voice was like fire and it burned and spat with an unequaled ferocity of one being boiled alive, but, it fell on deaf ears to the lesson masters who stared at the wyrmling as if she were no more than some little seasquirt complaining about the weather. The attack, however, garnered much more attention from them. In that instant, as the sonic vaulted off her breed-kin, Chon seemed to see the eventuality of the landing coming, but there was little she could do to stop the vision and, just so, the young one landed upon her with power and struggle enough to force the older bone backward upon her feet. The sound was deafening and the little claws easily sought purchase upon the rough scaled hide that they found. She was the first of many.

Like a usurper, the second came quickly upon her heels and took charge, or, subversively tried to. His words were subtle, but his aims were for a crown he did not wear and, like a crow crying a murder tu battle, he cawed for anyone who would hear him. Without his rider, he then added his own attack to the fray, though, he seemed to make sure it was bloodless for a first strike. Perhaps it was that his fangs were not yet ready, but, others’ surely were. The next was the ruin, his vapors licking the air like hungry wolves and jackals. He, like Knell, focused on the bigger of the two threats and leapt upon the bone with tooth and claw. And then, like an eruption, the rest followed. The fire sparked her embers and attempted to set both of the pair aflame, but, if not touched by the burn, they would at least be surrounded by it now. The electric bound herself to Chon’s back like a new set of pulsing wings. Slicing curves of talon raked her as electricity shot from the wyrmling’s limbs. The bulkhead let loose a voice like continents smashing together and, seizing the moment, shot forward to take the elder’s neck in its jaws and pulled downward for a fellow’s easier reach. And this second in command was quick to take the effort. Acid flew to give a different sort of face lift.

Jadra, by now, saw the way of things. She may have been a heartless bitch, but, she was more schemer than she was fool and, in that moment’s notice, she’d taken hand to hip to unsheathe a stick from her belt. With a whip of her hand, the rod shot to full length and clicked together to form a baton and a nasty looking one at that. She met both attackers with a startled face that quickly shifted to something snide and wiry and took their attacks in one hand, but just barely. The third of the group came upon her like a falling spike, but, with her free hand, she grabbed at Ganja and then jerked backward, with or without him. Her intent was to put him in harm’s way instead of her, but, even if it failed, she was free from the brunt of the blow. However, red dripped from her arm as she went. She’d not been unscathed, but it was unclear just how bad the wound was. As it stood, she just continued to mock them. “So, the little muppets think themselves badasses? I can’t even begin to figure out where to start laughing at that.” She did anyway, though. She wasn’t about to point out that she was a war veteran and significantly older with more experience. Sure she was outnumbered, but there was quality over quantity, yes? If the runts thought themselves better, let them try. “Come get some, you little pink rats. I can smell the green of your idiocy from here.” What appeared in her other hand was a cross between a knife and a gnarly set of brass knuckles.

Unable to quip at the group with her partner, Chon was mostly on her own now. She was being attacked from all sides and, now, with her neck bound in a wreath of teeth, a hot spray of something God-awful was coming at her eye. However, her defenses were more sly than she’d let on. While the sonic, ruin, and electric pounded at her armor, the creature writhed and bucked like a horse. Without warning, the bone snapped her neck upward, against the pull of the large wyrmling. Certainly he was big, but size wasn’t everything. And here, the span and power of his jaws was less a boon to him. Instead of gripping as they should have, with the wrenching upward, the tension on the scales pulled and pulled, until the whole underside where he’d been attached just sloughed off like a scab. Her armor acted like a second skin and, like it, could be shed. Though out of the vice, the acid splash was wide arched and caught her gently across the side of her face to mark it with dips and divits more than she already had. “AHUG! You little wench, I’ll squish you between my toes like a tube of toothpaste! Then I’ll brush my teeth with you anyhow!” Swinging her neck wide and avoiding the little clingers on her back that were attempting to rip her into pieces, she loosed a torrent of needle spines at the bulkhead and abyssal from her head and armor.

Chon was not a meaty monster. She was a pretty thin little wraith, but she had length on most of them and, more than that, she had a better sense of her abilities than an 8 month old greenhorn. Of course, there were also about half a dozen of them and one of her. Fair odds? Backing up, she turned to Knell with teary eye from the gas and acid. “Piece of my scaly ass, my ass! Quid Pro Quo, my dear!” And then her scales rose up to pointed darts like a sea urchin. If they chose to stay on her, they’d have to get nicked and needled and, perhaps shot at without warning. They’d have to work for it. As an added bonus, and possibly an effect from being electrocuted, she shook herself like a shaggy dog. Her wings flapped and flailed, pulling up dust and bits of loose fire from the arc behind them. Loose skin and scales were shed like awful, armor dandruff.

“Get off me you unwanted mutton chops! AUG! I’ll turn kill you and stuff you and then ride you around like a hoard of little ponies!”

Then it was her turn to try something stupid. And, re-enforcing her head and neck with what wasn’t being used as spikes, she bolted forward at Pompeii like a deranged battering ram.

Osteoclast was quite proud of himself, or at least his rate of growth. Like a truly mature member of the Bone breed, he seemed to be experiencing accelerated growth. Of course, that’s not to say that it had nothing to do with being an adolescent and his hearty diet of prey and…other dragons that he’d been hunting around the island when other food wasn’t available. But Osteoclast turned a blind eye to the logic of his now thirty two feet, and preferred to bask in the fact that he felt quite large for having coming spawned from an Air breed. At this rate, he was going to spring past the typical height for his dam’s breed, and become a true giant of a Taint. For his breed anyway, seeing as there were dragons that easily outweighed and outsized him due to their own breeds and genetics. Such as the Earth and the Bulkhead for instance…

Osteoclast and Carter had settled quite well into their little lair in the fissure, and unlike what Carter’s initial worries had been of the growing Osteo having trouble navigating the crevasse to get inside, he still skirted it as skillfully as any jungle cat. In the two months, the entrance had become scattered with assorted deer and dragon bones, displaying a clear enough marker for anyone who came by ‘someone lives here. Move on, or we’ll add you to the pile.’ Gytrash as well, had grown in the two months that the Bone pair had been left to their own devices. Carter, feeling a little left out of this group of young males, had yet to grow another inch at all. At the very least, she’d stopped losing weight as Osteoclast began to bring in larger kills that he could not consume all of, and split with the girl and her Cerberus.

Osteoclast had taken to disappearing from their cave for days at a time, commanding Gytrash to guard Carter as he did so. Sometimes he didn’t return when he said he would, and would come back with his armor scored with claw marks and missing many quills. Other times he would return looking smug and in high spirits. Carter wasn’t sure what it was that he was getting up to in his absences, but she didn’t ask, expecting that it was something that Osteoclast would tell her when he felt she deserved to know. In the mean time, she had taken to working more with her small weapons and training and moving around the Tainted lands with Gytrash at her side.

She was a bit concerned and more than a little relieved that their lesson calls hadn’t been echoing across the lands for the two periods of class that they had now missed, if a month was to be the frame of reference. One half of her mind wondered if the lesson masters were injured, or if they had finished their lessons all together. The other half was glad that their lessons had ceased, as they made her do things she’d rather leave to thieves, murders, and the worst pieces of society. She hoped in the back of her mind that the lesson masters had simply died. Maybe they’d gotten their throat torn out by something. A wry frown twisted her features. Somehow they seemed to grisly for something to eat them. Like a cow that was half rotted and going to die anyway, but seemed to keep going and going, and no predator wanted to touch it, because they were smart enough to know that if they ate it, it’d just make them sick.

But then, as if mocking these lines of thoughts, an unearthly symphony of low shrieks in its own orchestrated chaos broke across the landscape and echoed into their little corner of wasteland. Osteoclast, napping in a small patch of sun within their cave, lifted his head and frowned, his expression irritable. Carter, who was busy trying to figure out how to piece together a bow and arrow from a rib bone and scraps of leather, looked up at the ceiling and then over at Osteoclast in surprise. “I thought they’d died.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. He blinked, looking at her with just as much shock as what was no doubt on her face. Then he barked a laugh, a dry, rustling paper sound, and stood. “It appears not, child. Fetch the saddle. We’ll answer their summons…”

Carter, hearing his instructions, brightened just a bit. They’d be flying then, and he’d be letting her up on his back. A rare privilege indeed. She hauled the leather saddle, which was a different contraption from the one that they’d used in their lesson two months ago, onto Osteoclast’s back as the Bone waited patiently for her to strap everything down and they both weaved out of the crevasse, Carter bidding Gytrash goodbye and bidding him to guard their home. Osteoclast used to believe this an utter waste of their time, until he’d arrived back home with Carter from one trip out into the Wastes to find supplies and they’d arrived to a dead Mycotic on their doorstep, Gytrash’s three heads looking proudly at them. He had to admit, he was growing…fond of the Cerberus’ ability to keep what was his out of harm’s way.

A short flight later, and they’d arrived to the decided location for their lesson, marked by the familiar forms of their lesson masters and the already gathered wyrmlings. Landing with a gentle back-wing, Osteoclast remained standing, keeping Carter from being able to get off of his back without having to make a daring leap from his nearly seven foot height. She looked around as Osteoclast shifted his weight, but made no complaints about her position. If anything, she felt a bit better being on Osteoclast’s back with their larger classmates all around them. No doubt that was something that the Bone had considered as well.

Carter’s attention waned as their instructors began their typical banter. It wasn’t much that she was missing. Simple chat that would most likely have worn down her brain cells if she tried to pay attention to whatever they were going to say. It seemed like it would be a simple enough lesson anyway. They’d be working as a group to catch a few dragons, a Shell. The Tainted version of a Wing, if Carter remembered what Osteoclast had told her once. He nodded once absently to her thought, his head tipped slightly to the side so she could see that he was acknowledging her thoughts.

Suddenly, things changed in the atmosphere. Bringing it from typical bored wyrmlings that were more eager to start their work, to an aggressive crackle of negative energy and unease as the lesson masters turned their attention to the Sonic dragon who was standing alone. Carter frowned at her, she had fought that Sonic’s rider during the lesson when their instructors had trapped them in an iron cage. A small part of her wondered what had happened to him, the other part was shocked when the wyrmling Sonic, in an enraged attack, leaped off her Sonic brethren and flung herself at the Bone instructor. Osteoclast stared, so did Carter. Then in a sudden movement, the energy broke, and the Toxic stepped forward, hissing that now was their chance to move, and attack. Moving in, he pressed the attack, followed by the Ruin, the Fire, the Bulkhead, and the Abyssal.

“Osteoclast….” Carter’s voice was low and worried, afraid that he would carry her into battle upon his back. But she needn’t have feared. His baleful red eyes stared at the mob in front of him in disgust. There was no subtlety here. If he joined this assault, when the enemy knew well and clearly just who they were and where to find them, then he would simply be added to this hit list that was growing with every new brawler. Curling a lip over ebon fangs, he took a half-step back and turned away, shaking his head as he stepped back to watch. “We’ll not be adding to this fracas of stupidity, hush your fears, child.” He glanced at her over his shoulder, and then like a lazy big cat, reclined on a boulder. Just because he wasn’t going to participate didn’t mean that he would mind watching his lesson masters get their asses handed to them…

Myxoma had finally outgrown their small burrow and they’d had to search for days to find a new place to lay their heads. The cave they’d found wasn’t much, but it kept them dry when it rained. The shallow structure was almost more of an overhang with walls of tree trunks and brush than an actual cave, but Myxoma had cleverly disguised their presence there with some rather foul smelling mushrooms around the perimeter that masked their scents and made sure that predators and Taints looking for easy targets stayed away. Xareya’s nose was numb from the smell, but that didn’t save her ears the agony of the out of tune number that echoed over the marshes.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes blearily, none too pleased to hear the sound after two months of nothing. Not a call, not a bother, nothing. They’d been forgotten, abandoned by their teachers, which was more of a blessing than anything really. Of all the terrible things to wake to once she thought their tactless lessons were over. She enjoyed the opportunity to exercise her newfound power over the lives of less fortunate human beings, but she preferred her own way of doing things rather than obeying every beck and call of their bickering instructors.

“Good morning my sweet murderess,” Myxoma’s chipper voice came as a shock. For once he wasn’t complaining about something. “I brought breakfast!” So that was what he was so excited about. Finding food was such a chore. He must have not been able to sleep and decided to forage around in his boredom and found something worth eating.

Surely enough, the Mycotic pranced into their new home, his crest fluffed to perfection as he carried a makeshift sack full of bright red berries, one of which he popped into his mouth as he dropped the sack by his rider. She looked down at them for a moment, then solemnly stated, “Those are poisonous.” Then she stood up and brushed off her clothes—this time a pair of pants and tunic she’d stolen off of a corpse—and started out.

Myxoma gasped and coughed suddenly, hacking as though trying to purge himself of the berries he’d just eaten. “Ugh, I knew they were too good to be true.” He hacked, spitting the remnants of the one he’d been chewing onto the ground.

“Well, they’re probably fine for you,” Xareya added after his ridiculous show of trying to hack up the ones he’d already eaten.

He paused for a moment and narrowed a gaze at her as she walked outside, “Now you tell me. Oh, be a spoilsport. Where are you going?” He asked.

“You didn’t hear the grand summons?” she asked unenthusiastically as she started toward the sound of the poor Sonic’s being abused by Chondrocyte.

“Oh, yes that. I was ignoring it in favor of finding breakfast, which apparently turned out to be a farce. Oh well,” he shrugged, the fins on his shoulders swaying. He walked with Xareya, despite her lack of enthusiasm for his attempted gift of breakfast and his presence. He didn’t need her to say it to know that he still belonged there by her side. With his brains and her brawn, they were the perfect killing team. They’d make their new leader proud for sure. Or…at least their superior once they graduated. In no time they’d be well on their way to the top, with better living conditions and a name for themselves. Myxoma would be sure of that.

But first, they had to get by their teachers, which would be a challenge in and of itself, considering they’d rather see them dead. That, unfortunately, would be the way the rest of their lives among the Legion would be though. They could at least trust that just about every Taint they’d meet would want them dead and out of the way so they could rise to the top instead. Myxoma existed to be sure that didn’t happen, and Xareya to make sure it never happened again with the same individual.

When they first arrived to hear that they’d be learning to work as a shell, Xareya was a little less than pleased. She didn’t want to have to work as a team with anyone but Myxoma, and even then. The young woman scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. She was about to wait out further instructions to suffer through when their teachers decided to make a jab at one of their fellow students, one that wasn’t taking their tutelage so well. There was at least one perk to trying to operate on their own. They didn’t have to give a crap what their instructors said to them or about them as long as they didn’t kill them.

The pair just stood there and watched the train wreck as it happened. Knell shot forward like a blazing blue bullet and she was followed by several others of their class, all fed up with Jadra and Chondrocyte’s jeering and deadly lesson tasks. Myxoma stood, his feet pawing uneasily at the ground. Not only was he too small to do much damage to either teacher, but he’d certainly tear a frill, or muss his feathery head crest. On top of that, Xareya had made no move to intercept Jadra, who was about the only teacher she could do any good with. He looked at her for guidance, or a que, or something.

Then Pantera’s voice broke through the din, bidding them all to take up arms at the opportunity presented. They were crazy, the lot of them, crazy as their teachers if not twice as bold. It might have been respectable, if it wasn’t clear that they’d bitten off more than they could chew.

“If they can’t kill them, we’re fucked,” Xareya stated flatly, not having moved from where she was standing.

“Well, that wasn’t the understatement of the century,” Myxoma replied sarcastically, flicking a bit of dirt from his fore claws.

“Let’s go before the shit hits the fan,” Xareya grumbled and turned to leave, Myxoma following closely in tow.

She’d been woken up early because of this? What a royal pain in the ass. She wasn’t sure if she was more upset about the two months in between with no word one way or the other if they were free to leave lest they be hunted down as they had before or the fact that she had been awakened from her slumber before she was ready. Well, she wouldn’t have any part in this fracas, not just because they’d probably be flayed alive if the rest of the wyrmlings failed, but because she gave less of a crap about Jadra and Chondrocyte than they gave about them.