FSE

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Part 1

The dragon's snout was deep inside the carcass of the deer, his claws sunk into his prey's flanks. He ate faster than he usually did, but then, he was hungrier than he usually was. Snout soaked in the life's blood of the stag and its entrails spilled on the forest floor, he wasn't normally this messy either. His mother had said give it another few years before striking out on his own, a little more time to build strength and skills she said. Now he realised how tough it actually was in unfamiliar territory.

Back home, around his mother's lair, he knew the best places to hunt, the herding patterns of the prey, the best places to ambush and always had her to back him up. But now, weeks away from his old haunts, he was finding it tough to catch enough food.

Yogoloth had left the nest a few months ago, against the advice of his mother. He was only thirty eight years old, most dragons would wait till they were forty or fifty before taking to the air to explore the world and find territory of their own. But the green and brown hybrid not only felt the usual instinct to find his own place in the grand scheme of things, but also to find others to talk to.

It was something his mother could never understand, she was all dragon and was happy to spend decades alone at a time. This must stem from his gryphon side, he really wanted to talk to some other gryphons too. He'd never even met a gryphon before. The young dragon knew that they might not like him for being a hybrid, but once they realised he was no threat and wasn't some sort of dumb, backwards animal, they'd no doubt warm up to him.

So, he let his meal digest, basking on his back in the midday sun and then finally spread his brown feathery wings to take to the air. Yogoloth headed south along the mountainous ridges and barren foothills that bordered the forests that he'd been hunting in. Here, there were plentiful cliffs and rocky ledges, which made it decent terrain for gryphon colonies, or at least, that was the theory.

All he actually knew about gryphons was what little his mother knew. He could speak two of the gryphon tongues very well, along with various other languages that she'd schooled him in. But beyond some basics and a bit of guess work, he was literally flying blind. He knew that he was near gryphon territory though, he'd passed through another dragon's territory on the way and, although rude, the scaly brute had at least pointed the trespasser in the right direction. Yogoloth assumed that the other dragon had just wanted the young hybrid out of his territory as quickly as possible. But still, he'd sounded genuine enough.

As the evening approached and the sun dipped lower in the sky, his persistence paid off. He first spotted a couple of distant shapes fighting in the sky. Then he realised that they were gryphons, their feathery wings appearing as bold, twisting silhouettes in the evening light. Then the dragon realised that they weren't fighting at all, they were dancing. It was beautiful. He slowed his wing beats to delay his arrival so he could watch for longer, they were so agile and could even be as skilled in the air as he was.

Their display was over far too soon and the gryphons disappeared beyond the rolling hills. As Yogoloth got closer he realised that a wide valley, partially hidden by some rocky outcroppings, concealed a set of broad cliffs that a small group of gryphons had claimed as their home.

Rather than land directly on the colony itself he aimed for the opposite side of the valley. Let them come to him in their own time, he thought. Landing as gracefully as he could, he made sure to show off his feathery wings and then settled down. His stomach was churning with nerves, what if these gryphons don't understand either of the tongues he knew? What if they were aggressive and took his presence to be a threat or a challenge? No. Most gryphons knew Low Wurm anyway and he was a bit smaller than an adult gryphon too. He posed them no threat.

He cast his gaze over the colony across the valley and spotted a bit of activity. There were about five adults that he could see and maybe the same number of youngsters of various ages. It was hard to tell much more from this distance, despite his excellent sight. Two adults took off and headed his way, both a little larger than he. This is it, best smile, he thought to himself, slightly giddy from excitement.

Part 2

The two gryphons made quick progress as they crossed the valley towards the visitor who had arrived at their colony. Yogoloth was fascinated with how they moved, how they looked and the way their fur flowed, having never seen true gryphons before, let alone two so close. He instinctively knew these two were a male and a female, probably related because of how similar their colourations were. But it rapidly became clear that they were not interested in becoming friends as they got closer to the green and brown hybrid.

They swooped down, in turn, a few feet from Yogoloth's head clawing at the air with their talons, screeching their avian warnings. At first he merely ducked a couple of attacks, lost for words. One of the gryphons swooped down again, his wings buffeted Yogoloth ruffling his brown mane. Did gryphons hate hybrids so much that they attack without even exchanging a single word? His racing heart sank as he searched for the right thing to say, the right words that would make them realise he was no threat.

"Why are you attacking me? I just want to talk!", he yelled out in one of the gryphon tongues he knew. The one he felt he knew most fluently.

"Get away from here lizard-freak, before we tear you apart!", one of them called in Low Wurm. The other swooped lower and a talon caught the dragon's snout and he felt a stab of pain. He panicked and launched himself into the air and drove himself out of their way.

"Why!?", he called out reverting to Low Wurm, the smell of his own metallic blood beginning to fill his nostrils as he felt a trickle ooze from the fresh wound.

They ignored his question and gave chase, harassing him in the air as he picked up speed. Yogoloth was naturally talented in the air, for some reason even more so than a gryphon. But these two were older and more experienced, and that experience allowed them to keep up and continue their attacks.

He pushed his wings hard, trying to keep ahead of them, but another swoop and the female managed to briefly bite into his furry brown tail. This new injury made the hybrid growl in both pain and anger. If they wanted to treat him like some wild beast, then a wild beast is what he'd give them!

He twisted over and around changing direction, taking him off to the side. The enraged dragon pumped his wings gaining altitude as he delved into his magical reserves and formed a shape that he'd learned maybe a decade ago. The gryphons, surprised at his sudden change in direction, had to regroup and there was a brief respite from their attacks. Yogoloth used this to release the magical shape at the female's wings. But instead of igniting the feathers it unravelled before doing any damage at all. They had magic too!

They must have expected him to breathe fire on them, not knowing that he couldn't anyway. Regardless, he had the height advantage now and dived towards the nearest gryphon. At the last moment he released another shape that exploded in a bright light directly at the gryphon in his sights. Momentarily blinded, the male was a much easier target and Yogoloth latched his dragonic jaws around the furry neck and began to rake at the gryphon's flanks with his claws.

Both he and the larger gryphon flailed at each other, neither having the protection of scales that a true dragon would have. Blood sprayed into the air, most gryphon, some hybrid, but neither in large amounts. Before Yogoloth could get better leverage and take advantage of his grip on his target's neck, the female gryphon slammed into his body and bit down into his wing. He felt her sharp talons slash across his other wing and back. He lost his grip as the pain shot through his body and the three of them separated in the air.

His wing was badly injured, it felt weak and every stroke was agony. He couldn't stay in the air and rapidly lost altitude, heading down towards the rocky scrub land below. He tried his best to glide, to slow his descent, but this was going to hurt. The dragon hit the ground and tumbled over a several times before finally his momentum was halted by a wind swept shrub that had seen better days. This might well be the last straw for the poor, abused vegetation.

Yogoloth simply lay on his back, limbs sprawled out in various uncomfortable directions, his body hurt all over and all he could hear was his own heavy, erratic breathing. He craned his neck to see what time he had to prepare before they came to finish him, but they were flying away. The male gryphon he had injured was clearly having a lot of trouble flying, but he was still in the air... barely. They soon vanished out of sight and the injured, insulted dragon realised that this shrub was about as comfortable as he was going to be for the next week at least. He was dreading moving his injured body, but he couldn't risk staying here either. Today hadn't been a very good day at all, he thought sadly.

Part 3

The wounded dragon moved slowly and quietly between the trees. The sun was still high in the sky, casting streams of hazy light through the animated greens of the leaves. Large, chaotic groups of insects danced in these warm rays and the sound of bird song flowed in all directions. It was the sort of day that Yogoloth loved, but he was not in the mood to enjoy it.

It had been nearly five days since he'd been attacked without good reason, by the two gryphons. His injuries were many but the worst of it was the deep bite to his wing that the female had managed to give him. Even using his magic to its full potential, it would be weeks before he could risk flying again. Without magic, the wound might not heal correctly at all. In the meantime he had to hunt, without wings and without magic, in unfamiliar territory. He had yet to catch anything in those five days, he was going to die here.

He had spotted a small herd of deer earlier that day, but he hadn't managed to sneak even remotely close enough before one of them spotted him and they all fled. He'd given a half-hearted chase, but they had dispersed into the trees and soon he lost track of them. Perhaps his mother had been right, perhaps he had left too early, perhaps another few years would have made the difference. He should have listened and left gryphons well alone until he was bigger and stronger. If he'd waited another ten years, he would have been able to take those two gryphons down. He growled at the memory.

There had been no reason for the attack, they just hated him for being what he was, for being a hybrid. It shouldn't matter what he looked like, but no, they were willfully ignorant, wallowing in their own stupidity. He hated them. Why were the first gryphons he'd ever met have to be that way? He growled louder and noticed his breathing had sped up, but he didn't care, he had every right to be angry.

If he had the chance again, he would do everything in his power to kill them. Then he would rest, go back to the colony and hunt down every last one of them! They would beg for their lives, then they would beg for him to end their suffering. He would tear their flesh from their bones and smash their eggs while they watched, dying in pools of their own blood! Yogoloth's own blood was now pounding in his ears and he lashed out at a nearby tree with an enraged roar. His claws split bark and splinters of wood flew in all directions as he dealt the imagined gryphon a mortal wound. Birds fled from nearby branches, filling the forest with their warning calls.

He stopped, closed his eyes and tried to take a slow, deep breath. He couldn't afford to let his anger rule him, not now. He had to calm down, but he couldn't, he'd always had a temper. His mother would often face him down when he got like this, she could be a terrifying dragon when she wanted to be. He'd pushed her too far just once before, she had bitten him just once in return. He never did it again. He missed her.

Yogoloth took another deep breath and shook his head before stretching out his injured wing for inspection. He winced at the pain long before it reached its full span and stopped. Looking at the wound he grimaced, although it was knitting well, the dragon had hoped for more progress. He formed a shape in his mind from the magic within and released it into the wound. It felt warm and tingled slightly, but otherwise nothing seemed to happen. His mother could probably heal this almost instantly, he'd never be as powerful with magic as she was though.

He sat down as his breathing slowly relaxed and preened a few feathers. There wasn't much practical point in keeping his wings in order right now, but he always felt compelled to preen when stressed. A few feathers turned into a whole wing and then he moved to his other, far less wounded wing. This was the best he'd felt for days he thought idly to himself. Then a large shadow flickered through the forest and the feathery winged dragon stopped. Looking up through the light canopy of the trees, he saw a shape circling, slowly getting lower. A gryphon.

Part 4

The gryphons had come to finish him off... or at least, one of them had. But it couldn't attack him through the canopy of trees as they had before on the exposed hill, it would have to land and then the dragon would have the advantage. Even with an injured wing and no magic, he should still be able to kill it. Yogoloth smiled slightly as he watched the gryphon descending and planned his attack. Then he realised it was pretty small, even smaller than he was. The excited smile turned into a puzzled frown.

It wasn't much longer before the small gryphon got low enough for the young dragon to see more clearly. She was a very young gryphon, younger than he was. Well, most gryphons were younger than he was, but he knew what he meant. She wasn't one of the gryphons that attacked him and, going by her markings, probably not even from that same colony.

The gryphon landed a little clumsily and she took a moment to regain her footing. She was quite a lot smaller than he was, probably weighing a third of what he weighed. Her body fur was pale brown and the beginnings of a mane was growing in a scruffy stripe down the back of her neck. Sinking her yellow talons into the forest floor she shook out her plain brown wings before folding them against her flanks. Suddenly, now the target of clouds of insects, she snapped at the air with her yellow beak and her lion-like tail flicked about trying to ward them off. This gryphon was no threat to him.

"You're not a gryphon! You've got funny legs!", she said excitedly as she jogged over to the hybrid. Her bright blue eyes taking him all in.

"Leave me alone.", he growled lightly in the same gryphon tongue she'd used. He wasn't in the mood to entertain and needed to focus on hunting. She started sniffing around his flanks, completely ignoring his demand.

"Oh! You've been in a fight! Does it really, really hurt?", the young gryphon asked with a curiosity that began to annoy the dragon. Yogoloth did his best to ignore her, if he ignored her, she'd go away.

She didn't go away and started walking along side him as he searched for prey. She was small and thankfully trod quietly as he spotted a lone deer up ahead. The wind was in his favour and the prey was alone with some decent cover between them.

"You know, your wings are really pretty! Not like my boring wings...", she blurted as she stretched her wings out for effect. Her voice startled the deer and it bolted away. Yogoloth could feel the anger rising in his gut, his breathing started quickening and his claws dug into the ground.

"Oh! You're hunting, aren't you?", the little gryphon said excitedly. Then she suddenly snapped her beak shut, lowered her head and her eyes scanned the trees ahead.

It wasn't the two gryphons that he fought before that were going to be the death of him, it was this one. All gryphons seem to be out to get him killed and if he didn't catch some prey soon he wasn't going to have the energy to hunt at all. He should have known not to use fire magic, he should have gone straight for some sort of temporary wing paralysis. Then he could have finished the male, and then tackled the female on her own.

He imagined his jaw clamped round her neck, her struggling in his grip as he crushed the life out of her. Blood trickling over his tongue, the panic visible in her eyes, that look of acceptance, the knowledge that she was going to die. His heart began to pump faster in his chest and his anger grew. But he had used fire and they had beat him, and now he was stuck in an unfamiliar forest, slowly starving to death. He felt a growl rise in his chest as he imagined all the things he would do to them, if he survived long enough. The parts of them he would chew off.

"I could help you hunt!", the young gryphon said enthusiastically, as if the idea had only just come to her, before adding proudly, "My mother said I'm a really good hunter. I catch my own rabbits all the time, I like the livers the best!"

A growl escaped his snout and he clenched his eyes closed as the forest was yet again filled with her inane chatter. His mind swirled with anger and he tried to catch his breath. The dragon opened his eyes and immediately spotted some unaware prey ahead and was determined not to let this one escape like the last one.

Part 5

Yogoloth was focused on one thing and one thing only, his prey. Only the hunger in his belly and the anger in his blood managed to shine bright enough to make themselves known to his conscious mind and they merely fuelled him. Eyes narrowed, muscles tight, teeth bared, ears flat against his head, he studied his prey.

"Could we be fr-", the young gryphon stopped as she noticed the dragon staring at her. Her eyes widened as he pounced in one fluid motion.

He was larger, heavier and stronger than she was, there was no chance for her to stop him. The little gryphon was knocked to the ground, the air driven from her lungs as the dragon's body hit hers. Yogoloth's claws sank into her shoulder and chest and she managed one last word before his teeth wrapped around her throat.

"Why-", she gasped breathlessly. Even as she pleaded, she fought back with her talons and the claws of her hind legs.

But, although sharp, she was winded and still young, so the cuts she gave back were shallow and could never have stopped the hungry dragon. She twisted her body and flailed her wings and tail, anything to break his grip, to stop the pain, she didn't want to die like her rabbits. Then those sharp, merciless teeth pulled up and tore the flesh from her throat.

Blood began to pool beneath her limp neck as the dragon lifted his head up high and swallowed the small chunk of gristly meat. Her eyes were fixed on him, silent, helpless, but watching, as her life drained onto the forest floor. He moved the set of claws in her chest to her rump and got a firm grip of his prey, then wasted no time in sinking his teeth into her soft belly. Yogoloth could hear her last few rattling breaths, forcing their way out of her ruined throat, as he tore the skin and muscle free. He let the blood wash over his tongue and it tasted so good, it didn't matter what it was, he was too hungry to care.

He took out his anger on his prey too. Anger born of pain, injury and the insult of being judged by filthy gryphons. His snout vanished into his prey and tugged at the meat within, his stomach growled and his mouth was slick with saliva and blood. The physical injury they had caused him would be healed by what he took back from them now. He had chewed deep into the little gryphon's body and began to feast on the tastiest of morsels, the dragon quite liked liver too.

Yogoloth soon pulled back, taking a few breaths, licking some of the warm blood from his snout as his stomach rejoiced at the feast. He looked down at his prey and her eyes were no longer watching him. They were unfocused and gazed off into the forest, she was gone. Hunger and anger banished a feeling before it even finished forming in his mind and he sunk his teeth into her tender rump. How can gryphon taste so good?

He would not be able to eat all of his prey, so he selected the meatiest and tastiest portions. The rump was tender, the wing muscles were thick and rich, the meat at the base of the tail and the organs, excluding the intestines, were consumed with relish. The flesh and fat around the flanks and ribs were harder work but worth the effort as Yogoloth's belly began to fill. Better than any deer, boar or elk.

Yogoloth's claws relaxed their grip on the remains of the carcass, it rolled back slightly and he stepped away. His hunger sated, the anger quenched and suddenly he was overcome by a great tiredness. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a delicious, filling meal, he thought lazily as he settled down. Slowly cleaning the bloody stains from his paws and snout, he closed his eyes and the contented dragon soon drifted off into a deep, slightly troubled sleep.

Part 6

The dragon had been awake for what seemed like hours, though he had kept his eyes firmly shut. He could feel the sun warming his feathers and green hide and the morning sounds of the forest had woken him gently. The smell of yesterday's kill and the sound of flies buzzing around were almost emotionally overpowering. Yogoloth could clearly remember what he had done yesterday.

The first and only friendly gryphon he'd met, and he'd killed her. What the others had done to him, hadn't been her fault, she didn't deserve to die like that. He'd just let his anger rule him, he hadn't for one second considered any alternatives. His mother had always drummed into him the importance of self control, berated him for letting his anger get the better of him. Yogoloth had always assumed that it would be just him who'd suffer because of it. Now this.

The young hybrid grudgingly got up, sat on his rump and slowly opened his eyes. What was left of the young gryphon was exactly where he had left it. Her head and talons were almost untouched, almost exactly how they had been in life. But the rest of her was just meat, feathers and bone, her body ruined by the dragon's feeding. He imagined that she would have grown up to be fine hunter, maybe putting herself down too much because of the foolish notion that her wings were dull and boring.

Yogoloth suddenly remembered how she had snapped at the flies as she'd landed the previous day, now flies flew around her head and crawled on her face, unmolested. He flicked them away with the back of a fore paw and suddenly felt utterly helpless and alone. He ran a claw over one of her pale brown ears, closed his eyes and began to shake slightly. She'd only wanted to be friends.

"I- I'm so sorry...", he whispered so quietly he could barely hear it himself, his voice failing him as his eyes stung.

Hatching dragons didn't cry to attract the attention of their mother. Nor would a dragon of any age shed a tear because of physical pain like the civilised races did. He'd only once seen his mother cry, maybe fifteen years ago. He'd been up early to go on one of his routine solo morning hunts that he'd been forced into. Yogoloth's mother had decided that he could only accompany her on half of her hunts and the rest of his food, he would have to catch himself. He'd often been quite hungry as a result.

He had been sitting on the edge of the cliff outside of her lair, his home, busy preening his feathery wings in the summer morning sun. The hybrid had heard something he hadn't quite recognised and turned to see her sat at the cave mouth watching him, eyes glassy with moisture. She just got up without saying a word and walked back into the darkness of the tunnels. He'd never asked why she had been crying and she'd never brought it up. So that was that.

The memory faded, Yogoloth's body sagged and his jaw clenched tightly. One clawed paw gently gripped the gryphon's feathery head and, for the first time in his life, he cried quietly to himself, over the young gryphon who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.