Scouts

It was a bleak morning. Grey clouds hung heavily in the sky and rain from the previous night was only beginning to peter off into a light drizzle. Cynthia would have much rather stayed beneath her warm blankets and waited until noon hopefully brought some warmth and sunshine, but alas, she had work to do. She blew a sigh, disturbing the coppery-coloured curls that hung defiantly in front of her face. She stared at the ceiling for a minute longer before smearing a freckled arm over her eyes to banish the wayward locks and resigned herself to being awake at such an ungodly hour as this.
There was no time to stop for breakfast. By the time she was dressed and ready to go, she was already late. Ignoring her grumbling stomach, she stepped out her door and into the damp morning. Her destination was all the way across the village grounds, on the edge of the forest, but her wings still felt too limp from sleep to fly just yet. Instead, she walked, stretching out her sleep-deprived muscles as she went.
About halfway across the grounds, by the village square where the air was just beginning to smell of freshly baked bread, Cynthia spotted a familiar figure sitting on one of the benches.
"Tristan! What are you doing out here so early?"
The young drakin stood and patted droplets of water off his trousers before approaching Cynthia. "Good morning, Songbird," he smiled, chuckling to himself. "Not often I get the chance to say that to you. Aren't you running late?"
Normally Cynthia would find Tristan's demeanour endearing. It was far too early for endearing, though. "Maybe a little," she pouted slightly. "You know I'm not an early bird."
"Maybe so, but that's no excuse to skip breakfast. Here," he held out a steaming roll to her. "I convinced Mrs. Cobble to let me sneak one early. It's still hot, though, so watch your tongue."
Cynthia squinted at Tristan, taking the roll slowly. "How'd you know I didn't eat?"
"I've been with you for three years now, Cynthia. I'd say being able to tell when you're not taking care of yourself is part of my job at this point." He chuckled again and began walking beside her. "You know, you can rely on me a little more. I'm usually still awake this time of morning. I could've gone to wake you if you'd asked."
Cynthia shook her head defiantly, swallowing the large bite of bread in her mouth. "I'm an adult, I should be able to wake myself up on time. Besides, I need to be dependable to the team. They'll tell me to find a new job, otherwise."
Tristan sighed and tickled the tip of her wing. "You're not making any sense, but alright, if that's how you feel about it. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I tried to convince Demetri to come say goodbye to you as well and he threw a pillow at me."
Cynthia chuckled, despite herself. Demetri was even less of a morning person than she was. "Maybe a little bit." She sighed, staring at the roll in her hands. "I guess I'm anxious. I know it's not as if anything really bad can happen, and I'm not the only new recruit. I want to do this, it's just... I still don't feel like I was ready to be an adult yet."
Tristan's eyes smiled warmly at Cynthia and he wrapped a scaly wing around her shoulder, pulling her close so he could lean his head on hers for a moment. "Thank you for being honest, Cynthia. And don't worry. You're more capable than you think."
"If you say so."
The pair walked in silence for another minute before they reached the meeting point. There were three avians waiting there, wings still tucked under their cloaks to keep the rain off. Lumus and Theo were checking each other's gear while the team's leader, Mr. Woodrow, was watching the wind going through the trees. He was the one to notice Tristan and Cynthia.
"Good morning!" He called. "You're late, Nightingale. Rough start?"
"My apologies, sir. I'm not used to the early days yet." Cynthia looked around a moment. "Where's Seirin? We were supposed to start training together, weren't we?"
"At the rookery," Lumus piped up. "Been there since last night. Awful fever, I heard."
Cynthia winced audibly. "I hope she's alright."
Theo finally looked over at Cynthia from the equipment he was checking and waved to get her attention. "Seirin's tough," he signed, "she'll be fine. We should get going while the wind's still in our favour."
Cynthia nodded, shuffling her wings out of her cloak. "I'll see you in a week," she whispered to Tristan. She knitted her fingers into his briefly as she watched the others take off, then pulled down her goggles and followed suit with a small hop and a strong, practised flap of her wings.
Tristan blew her a kiss goodbye as the group flew away over the trees. Cynthia watched as his figure grew smaller and smaller, before finally focusing her attention to what was ahead of her.

There was something magical about flying just beneath the clouds that Cynthia was certain she'd never get over. They seemed even fluffier up close, even with the rain sometimes speckling her goggles and making it harder to see. She simply had to indulge herself at least once. Flying just a little higher, she reached a hand up into the fluffy mass above her, causing a sudden cascade of water to skim off the back of her cloak and over her tail feathers. It was colder than she'd expected, and she retracted her hand quickly before her sleeve could get soaked.
The forest and mountain faces beneath them were no less wondrous, with the way they rolled and dropped away beneath them only to lift back up once again. Pointed evergreens jutted out above lumpy deciduous trees that were halfway through their fall transformations. Bursts of reds and yellows peppered the landscape. These views were a large part of the reason she'd wanted to join the scouting team in the first place. Well, that and the chance to explore beyond the usual scope the other villagers kept to.
“Nightingale, get back into formation!” Mr. Woodrow's voice snapped Cynthia out of her thoughts. “You're going to wear out too quickly if you just fly on your own like that.”
“Yes, sir!”
Cynthia had to flap hard for a minute to get up to the altitude the others were at, but it was much easier to glide along the jet stream in the rear of the loose formation the group formed. She did vaguely recall from lessons back in school some of the basic principles of flying in formation. Something about producing more lift. She hadn't paid much attention, honestly, since it was mostly nitty gritty things you don't think about while actually flying, and she was half busy with strength building exercises at the time.

Sunshine slowly returned to the sky, banishing the grey in favour of a lovely bright blue. The scouting party flew on for a few more hours, rotating positions every so often. The group never put her at the front of the formation, but Cynthia still found her stamina was dropping considerably. Mr. Woodrow admonished her several times for letting herself slip downwards before calling a break and the group circled down to a relatively clear space among the trees.
“Come over here, Nightingale,” Mr. Woodrow beckoned. Upon Cynthia's acquiescence, he spun her around sharply and began stretching out her wings, bending them at their joints like she was a doll and pinching at her muscles. Cynthia flinched several times as he tweaked sore spots. “Thought so. You don't have the muscle tone needed for long flights like this yet.”
Cynthia pulled her wings closer to herself, feeling her cheeks get warm. “Sorry, sir. I have been training-”
“Don't apologize,” Woodrow interrupted, holding up a hand. “You got a later start than most of us, nothing wrong with that. You're doing well, all things considered. Just don't push yourself too hard and remember to fly in formation.... And don't be afraid to ask for a rest if you need it. We're not doing anything crucial this run and the team exists to rely on each other. No shame in taking it slow.”
Cynthia nodded, unsure, and Mr. Woodrow gave her a firm pat on her back.
“Since we're here,” he raised his voice to address the others as well, “may as well give our wings a rest and work our legs a bit. Take two hours and see what food you can scrounge up out here. Nightingale, go with Theo. He'll help you identify what's what and you can practice some cartography by mapping the area.”
Mr. Woodrow and Lumus went off their separate ways, while Cynthia and Theo sat down on a log to start a rough map. It was tricky at first, trying to read Theo's signs while also focusing on what she was drawing, but with some adjusting and enough time, she got used to it. Theo was patient with her and took the time to spell out words she didn't know by tracing his finger over the paper. He had a slow way of moving his hands that Cynthia appreciated.
Most of an hour passed and Cynthia had her very own crude map of the area to mark out foraging sites. There was still time left. Rolling up the parchment and slipping it into the scroll case under her cloak, Cynthia followed Theo into the thicker trees.
This part of the woods was very bright and yellow. The trees were mostly birch, which reflected the sunlight off their bark and kept it from feeling claustrophobic.
“The green twigs can be used for tea,” he told her. “There are a lot of vitamins that help your wounds heal better and reduce fever, and you can make oil for treating pain.” He rubbed his arm in a sign that Cynthia wasn't really familiar with. By context, her best guess was that meant the oil should be put on the skin. “The pollen catkins and leaves are good too, but only in spring. Remember not to take too much from one area, so the tree can still grow healthy.”
Cynthia nodded and mimicked Theo as he began inspecting twigs and slipping the fresher ones into one of the satchels across his chest.
Next he pointed to a cluster of mushrooms that looked like upside down fairy steps growing on the tree trunks. “Birch bracket. Good for medicine. Edible, but bitter. We sometimes use them to sharpen our razors.” Theo chuckled. Then he pointed at a burnt-looking clump on another tree. “C-H-A-G-A,” he spelled out, then showed her the sign for it. “Good for food and for tea, but don't brew it out here. It needs to be processed.”
Another hour or so of picking through the forest, the pair managed to gather a decent haul, also finding rose hips, goldenrod root, and they even found a few wild cranberry bushes, though Theo told her to leave those alone until after the first frost.
“They taste better after getting frozen once. Mark this spot on your map, then we should go back.”
The wind was beginning to pick up as the pair walked back to their landing site. The woods became suddenly darker as a cloud drifted briefly over the sun. Cynthia fluffed her wings in an attempt to keep them from clinging too tightly to her arms. She had a bad feeling all of a sudden.
Back at their meeting point, Cynthia spotted Lumus skinning a rabbit on the log they'd been sitting on earlier. A small hunting bow rested beside him, already unstrung and waiting for him to put it away. Mr. Woodrow was nowhere to be seen.
Before she could ask as to where their leader was, the hawk avian suddenly landed nearby. “Bad news, ladies and gents, we're in for a storm.”
“I thought the weather reader's report said we were clear after the rain,” Lumus protested.
“It did. They were wrong. Must've been training new blood when they divined that one. I told them we needed accuracy during training!” Mr. Woodrow looked like he was going to throw something, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed. “Nothing for it now. Did anyone find any shelter while looking about? Looks like we're making camp until this blows over.”
Everyone shook their heads.
“Let's move out, then. If we can't fly, we might as well make progress on foot until dark. Keep a sharp eye out for any possible shelter, too.”
Cynthia bit down a groan.

The group found a place to make camp as twilight was fading into night. It wasn't much, just a shallow cave barely able to keep the rain off of them, but a simple lean-to and a packed nest of fallen leaves made it at least halfway decent.
Cynthia was put on first watch. It made sense, since she was usually awake at this hour anyway, but that didn't make her feel any less anxious about it. Something just didn't feel right. As they'd been walking, she was sure she'd heard something rustling the bushes, and as much as she'd tried to convince herself that it was just a bird or a badger or something else relatively harmless, that feeling of unease lingered.
It was storming. The rain was dripping on Cynthia's hood and seeping into the slits on the back of her cloak, chilling her to her bones. The wind raging through the trees made it impossible to listen for anything else. To top it all off, it was pitch black thanks to the storm clouds. Even with her better night vision, she could hardly see anything more than five feet away. There was no possible way for it to be anything but unpleasant.
How long had it been now? She wasn't sure. It wouldn't be fair if she woke the next person early, though, so she blew a heavy sigh and hunkered down to wait out the watch a little longer.
Her eyes were getting bleary now. She couldn't keep her head up. Lightning flashed.
Wait. Cynthia sat up straight. Was there something glowing over there? Two pinpricks, like eyes. She strained at the spot she'd seen them, but the next lightning flash revealed nothing but a bush with sparkling raindrops falling off its leaves.
Just her imagination, then.
Maybe she should turn over the watch now.
Cynthia crept over to where Lumus slept and shook his shoulder to rouse him. She didn't mention what she'd seen; there was no point when it had clearly been nothing. She lay down where Lumus had been sleeping, some of his warmth still lingering on the bed of leaves, and curled up to try and sleep.
Sleep, however, would not come. Whether it was because of the storm or because of the thoughts of what she thought she'd seen still lingering fresh in her mind, Cynthia couldn't seem to drift off. Thunder boomed, rain pelted the leaves, and she couldn't relax.

Cynthia finally found a brief respite, slipping into unconsciousness. It was short-lived, though, as Mr. Woodrow suddenly shook her awake and a clap of thunder made her adrenaline spike.
“Up, up!” He whispered harshly. “There's something out there. We need to move. Now!”
Disoriented, Cynthia grabbed everything she could and began running after Lumus and Theo. Everything was dark and confusing with rain pelting her face, and blinding flashes of lightning only made everything worse. The only thing she could really see were the white of Lumus' wings flashing out from beneath his cloak as he dashed through the woods. She couldn't tell if what she heard was just rain or Mr. Woodrow's long strides overtaking her. Or something else entirely.
Lightning flashed again, lighting up everything so white that Cynthia couldn't see the tree branch she was clothes-lined by. She couldn't even hear the splash she made on the muddy ground as she choked, rubbing at the sore spot on her collar. A pair of arms reached down to help her to her feet.
“Keep moving,” Lumus' voice said into her ear, laced with fear.
Cynthia looked around, but Theo and Mr. Woodrow were nowhere to be seen. “They're gone! Where do we go?”
“Just keep moving!”
Lumus half dragged Cynthia along, leaving the satchels she'd dropped behind. She spared a look back and caught a glimpse of something. It had a humanoid torso, black hair plastered against its head from the rain, with fangs at least as long as her entire hand and a jaw that opened far too wide. She wrenched her eyes away before she could fall again.
They ran as fast as their legs could carry them. Several times they skidded down small slopes and nearly tripped over exposed roots and stones as they crashed through the underbrush. Cynthia's lungs burned and her legs ached, but she didn't dare stop.
“Lumus, where are we going?” she shouted over the storm.
“Anywhere. We just need to shake that naga.” He looked back.
He began to sink.
Cynthia felt herself being pitched forward.
Everything seemed to go in slow motion as the pair dropped off the edge of a cliff. Cynthia tried to spread her wings, but she couldn't get any lift with waterlogged feathers. Lumus, just below her, tried to do the same. But he was facing upwards. Cynthia's eyes went wide as she saw the trees beneath seemingly rise to greet them. She pulled in her wings and braced her arms over her face.
For what felt like an eternity, the storm was drowned out by the sound of snapping branches and raucous leaves as the pair tumbled to the ground. And then there were the thicker branches. Some she only hit on the ends, bending them but ultimately not doing much to slow her descent. Others snapped or bounced her right off of them. She felt like a ball being tossed around.
Another flash of lightning illuminated the area around them, and Cynthia saw Lumus fall out of sight just as she landed on a thick branch that didn't give under her weight. All the wind was knocked out of her and she heard her ribs crack. She felt dizzy.
Everything hurt. Cynthia tried to reach in front of her, an attempt to pull herself to the tree's trunk so she could reach the ground, but her arms were shaking and she could hardly see.
Her breath was so loud in her ears. Tunnel vision set in, then everything went black.

Her head ached. Her ribs ached. Everything ached. There was a faint light pestering her eyes as Cynthia stirred from unconsciousness. She tried to take in a deep breath and choked on pain, nearly causing her to slide off her branch.
Definitely broken ribs.
Slowly, she pushed herself upright so she was straddling the branch. Now for the first order of business: assess injuries. Cynthia used great caution as she tested out each arm, stretching and flexing them one at a time. They stung, and her sleeves were clearly torn in some places where blood stained the fabric, but nothing was broken.
Next was her legs. She moved her left one experimentally. Seemed fine. Then the right. A sharp pain screamed over her shin, prompting her to inspect further. Pulling up the pant leg and prodding the bone only revealed a nasty bruise and Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief, cut short by the ache in her chest.
So she was able to walk. That was good, but what about flying? By some miracle, her wings seemed to be relatively unharmed. Yes, they still had their fair share of bloody patches where broken branches had pierced the skin, but nothing seemed to be broken and that was the most important thing.
So Cynthia was mobile. Next on the list would be to attend to the injuries she did have, except that all her medical supplies had been in the bags she'd dropped while running the previous night. Any mental chastising she may have given herself, however, was interrupted by a sound from below.
Cynthia peered over the branch. On the ground, lying on his side and groaning loudly, was Lumus. It took Cynthia a minute to rearrange herself on the branch so she could slip off and make a controlled fall to reach him, and the exertion of flapping her wings only aggravated the pain in her ribs, but she made it down safely.
“Lumus! Are you alright?” Cynthia rushed over to him. He certainly looked worse off than she did. For starters, one of his legs was bent at a gruesome angle.
Lumus coughed, squinting up at Cynthia. “Alright might be a bit generous. Let's start with alive and go from there, huh?” He tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but the slight movement that caused on his leg made him bite down a shout. “Broken leg. Got it. Let's see, other leg's not too bad. Arms are...” he stretched one out and winced, “hurting but functional.”
“What about your wings? Can you fly?”
The white raven slowly stretched out one wing, still wincing, then attempted the other. He actually cried out in pain this time, stifling it a moment too late by jamming a fist between his teeth. “Ugh, that's not good,” he hissed, twisting slightly so Cynthia could see. The wing was not only broken, but also dislocated at the shoulder joint.
“Great.... Well, you're alive. That's... something.” Cynthia huffed a sigh, once again cut short by her protesting ribs, turning it into a pained cough. “Now what? My medical kit was in that bag I dropped.”
“Easy on yourself there, Red. I've got mine with me still. You learned how to field dress right? Go find some good branches to use as splints and we'll work from there. Do you know how to pop a dislocated shoulder back into place?”
“I know the theory, but I wasn't great at the technique.”
“Forget it for now, then. We'll just make sure my wing's secure until we can find the others.”
It didn't take too long to tie the splint to Lumus' leg. What took a while was fixing his wing. The major downside to a broken wing, aside from the obvious not being able to fly, was that they were nearly impossible to splint properly because of the feathers in the way. Even after that was done, Cynthia then had to tie all their remaining bandage roll around Lumus' chest to fix the wing in place – a process that took several attempts before a method that didn't aggravate the broken bone was settled upon. By the time all was said and done, over an hour had passed.
“Alright, good job there, Red. Now, ideally, we wouldn't be moving around like this, but....”
“But we're lost and separated from the rest of the group with some thing chasing us.”
“That 'thing' is a naga, but yes.” Lumus shifted so Cynthia could get her arm under his and hoist him up. He grunted as they tried to find a comfortable way for him to walk. “We don't know if it kept coming after us or if it went to find Theo and Tavian.”
“Wait, Tavian? Is that Mr. Woodrow's first name?”
“You never knew?”
Cynthia shook her head. “I've never heard it before. Everyone always called him Mr. Woodrow. I was starting to think he just didn't have a first name, like Headmaster.”
“Nope, he's Tavian. Headmaster's an outlier and thinks he's funny.”
Cynthia made a face, unsure if she wanted to be amused or not. She said nothing else as they continued to trudge on through the forest. They skirted the edge of the cliff, looking for a milder slope they could hopefully climb up to find their missing teammates. Progress was slow, both from Lumus' broken leg and Cynthia's own injuries. She hadn't brought them up to Lumus. She was mobile and in nowhere near as bad shape as her companion was, so it didn't feel right to complain. Just grit your teeth and bear it until something can be done, she repeated over and over in her head.

They walked for about an hour, maybe two, before they needed to stop and rest. Lumus sat on a rock and fished a couple of seed bars from one of his satchels, tossing one to Cynthia.
“Eat up. Don't know how long we're gonna be going for yet.”
“How will we know if we're close, anyway?” Cynthia asked, leaning against a half-fallen tree to take some weight off her bruised leg.
Lumus looked up at the ceiling of leaves. “Normally one group would make smoke signals if they were safe, wait out for the others to find them, but we don't normally have something intelligent after us if this happens. Not to mention everything's soaked after that storm... Try keeping an eye out for knife marks in the trees. Theo used to do that when everything was too wet to start a fire, and you can usually tell where he's headed by the direction of the cuts.”
Cynthia nodded, considering the information. “I'll look around while you rest,” she decided. “I can cover more ground and you won't have to waste so much energy if I can find a way up the cliff on my own.”
Lumus looked hesitant, but seemed to resolve himself as he looked down at his broken leg. “Alright, just keep a sharp eye out. We don't know if that naga's still out there after us.”
Cynthia nodded and started off in the direction they'd been walking. She continued along the edge of the cliff, scanning the trees as she walked past them. There wasn't much chance of finding anything down where she was, though. They'd been on top of the cliff when they were separated, and not even very close to the edge.
Cynthia stepped up to the cliff face. It wasn't sheer, though parts of it were still damp from last night's storm. “Seems climbable,” she muttered to herself, putting a hand over her aching ribs. Flying was out, but if she was careful, she might be able to make it up the cliff face the old fashioned way. If she was lucky, she'd find Mr. Woodrow and Theo quickly, then they could help her get Lumus up there.
Slowly, carefully, she began climbing the rock. It hurt if she tried to hoist herself up with her right arm, the one on the same side as her broken ribs, so she had to keep taking the extra time to adjust herself so her good side would bear her weight between the further-spaced handholds. Just a little further. A little further.
She paused to catch her breath. It wasn't that tall a cliff. She could make it.
Then, disaster.
When Cynthia looked up to reach the next handhold, something looked down at her. Something horrid and familiar with a mouth that was far too big. The naga.
She froze. It grinned at her, its fangs showing just barely between the thinnest lips she'd ever seen on a being. Its yellow eyes, slitted and reptilian, gazed down at her hungrily and Cynthia couldn't find the strength of will to break eye contact. He had her pinned, and he hadn't even touched her yet.
Her heart was hammering loudly in her head as Cynthia could only watch as the creature leaned over the edge of the cliff, extending its body towards her. It should have lost balance. It should have tumbled over the edge. But it didn't. It just kept inching closer and closer, never seeming to run out of reach.
He had the markings of an asp. It wasn't hair on the top of his head, but a patch of shiny black scales. There wasn't a bit of skin on its body, even his hands had the armour covering them and ending in sinister claws like a lizard's feet.
The naga reached out and grabbed her by the arm, wrenching her off her footholds. Pain ripped across her side as her broken ribs cried out in protest and forced a breathy scream from her throat. Her stupor finally broken, she reached desperately for the rock as if that could somehow free her from the vice-like grip of this creature's hand, but struggling only made the pain worse and did absolutely nothing to slow the creature's ascent.
Cynthia wheezed, almost certain she'd nearly punctured a lung as her vision rose over the clifftop. The naga indeed had a long tail. Many coils of muscle and scales were piled over the forest debris. Too many. She felt dizzy. It stared at her, licking its lips with a thin, forked tongue, and opened its jaw.
Too wide. Too wide. And only to bring out his fangs. Faster than she could see, it struck, sinking its fangs deep into her arm. She could feel the venom pulsing through her veins. She wanted to scream, to struggle, to do anything. But she couldn't. Numbness crept over her, beginning from the bite and sinking through to her feet. Breathing became so much harder and the dizziness only worsened.
This was it. This was how she was going to die. Paralyzed and ready to be eaten by a giant snake creature with no one there to even know what became of her.
Surprisingly, it didn't try to devour her right away, though she was sure it could have swallowed her whole if it felt so inclined. Instead, it wrapped the end of its tail around her middle and slithered off. She slumped, nearly limp as a ragdoll.
Cynthia couldn't keep track of which way they were going as the naga wound its way around the trees. She could feel her heartbeat slowing. Focus. She had to focus. She couldn't... couldn't fall asleep... or her heart could stop. Focus....
The trees. She needed to watch the trees. But why? There was something....
One tree. Two trees. Three trees. One had a broken branch. Another one was blackened on one side like lightning had struck it. Seven trees. Eight trees. Someone stabbed that one....
That's it! That was what she was looking for! Theo had come by here. If only she could tell which way the cut ran, but the naga veered away before she could see. Maybe they were close, though. Maybe, just maybe, she had a chance.
If she could only scream, but there was no way for her to muster up enough force for anything louder than a breathy squeak. It was hard enough just to breath at all. She'd screamed before... maybe they heard her, but they'd be too far away by now. The naga was so fast.
Maybe... if she couldn't scream, then something else would have to scream for her. On her right arm, the one that hadn't been bitten, she could still move her fingers. With enough effort, she could reach the knife on her hip. Careful. Carefully.
Her fingers slipped off the hilt as she tried to pull it out of its sheath.
Again. They were so stiff. It was hard to control them.
Closer. Nearly there. Got it!
Pulling the knife free of its sheath, Cynthia adjusted her grip so the blade was pointing upwards. With as much strength as she could muster through the venom's effects, she stabbed the knife into the naga's tail where it coiled around her waist.
The creature hissed and turned to look at her sharply, eyes harsh and angry. It wrapped its coil tighter around her, forcing the little breath Cynthia had out of her lungs. She twisted the knife as hard as she could and the naga finally let out a cry. Its grip loosened, dropping her to the ground.
She couldn't get up. She couldn't run. All she could do was lay there and wait as her breath became shallower. A shadow passed overhead. This was it. She was sure now, she was going to die. At least she could say she went out fighting.
The naga loomed over her. The shadow grew larger.
Cynthia cracked an eye open, just in time to see Mr. Woodrow slamming his feet into the naga's head. Where did he come from so fast?
Cynthia didn't even have the chance to get her thoughts back together as Theo was suddenly dragging her away. She couldn't stay awake anymore.

“Hey, Nightingale, up and at 'em,” Mr. Woodrow called, patting Cynthia's cheek. “Rise and shine.”
Cynthia groaned, cracking an eye open. “Five more minutes. World's not ending,” she mumbled.
“Maybe not, but this expedition is. Come on, we're getting out of here. You need to tell us where Lumus is.”
Cynthia groaned again, but sat up. She winced at her aching ribs. A hand went instinctively to hold her side, though she was surprised to find that not only had her ribs been bandaged, but the pain was nowhere near as bad as it had been before.
“Theo patched you up,” Mr. Woodrow explained, pointing a thumb towards the sparrow avian, his wings drooping almost to the ground as he sat hunched over on a log. “He knows a bit of healing magic, so you're not gonna stab a lung, but don't go pushing things too much. Now, about Lumus....”
“Right, Lumus.” Cynthia shook her head to clear away the cobwebs left from the venom. “He's... down the cliff. Broke a wing and a leg. I was... looking for signs of you two while he rested. Ugh, my head.”
“Yeah, venom will do that to ya. You're lucky that beast wasn't the most venomous you could find, or you'd be dead, even if that was just a paralytic he used.”
“Thought I was dead, to be honest,” Cynthia laughed dryly, climbing to her feet with a bit of a wobble. “I can remember where I climbed up. We can fly down to him from the edge, I think.” She stretched out her limbs, trying to break away the stiffness that was still permeating her muscles.
“No flying,” Theo signed, looking up at them. He seemed haggard, like gravity had suddenly become stronger just for him. “I'm still recovering and you're not in any shape to fly yet.”
“But climbing down'll be much harder,” Cynthia argued.
“Alright, how about this,” Mr. Woodrow interjected, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “Cynthia, you can lead us to where you came up the cliff from and I'll fly down by myself to find Lumus. Then both groups can move along the cliff until we find a point we can meet in the middle. That sound good?”
Theo nodded. Cynthia hesitated a moment, then nodded as well.
“Good. Now let's get going. The cliff seems to be the edge of the naga's territory, but Lord knows what else could be down there.”
With slow steps, Cynthia led the others to the cliff where she'd climbed back up and she told Mr. Woodrow where she'd left Lumus. Mr. Woodrow flew down into the trees below and Cynthia was left to wait with Theo for Mr. Woodrow's signal.
Theo whistled to get Cynthia's attention. “You're reckless, you know that?”
Cynthia blinked, at a loss for words. “What?”
“Climbing a cliff with broken ribs isn't something a careful person does. Especially when they know there's a naga somewhere at the top of said cliff.”
“I was trying to find you two,” she protested. “I thought the best way was to go back to where I saw you last. I didn't think the naga would be waiting up top.”
“You would be dead by now if we hadn't gotten to you in time. You can't be acting reckless, Cynthia,” Theo signed, shaking his head, “especially not in this sort of situation. Things can easily get worse if you're not careful, as I'm sure you've seen.” Cynthia looked away in shame, but Theo snapped his fingers to get her to look at him again. “The scout teams aren't built on their members being independent. They're built on all of us working together and thinking things through. We go in groups so we can rely on each other to make up for our shortcomings. You need to understand this if you want to be a scout.”
Cynthia bit her lip, holding back some tears. “You're right, I understand. Sorry for causing so much trouble for everyone.” She took a few deep breaths, internalizing the lesson, when she realized something. “Wait, does this mean I'm not getting kicked out when we get back?”
Theo brought his hands up to respond, but a clatter distracted the both of them. Peering over the edge of the cliff, the pair saw Mr. Woodrow carrying Lumus on his back. He waved at them and pointed in a direction, beckoning them to follow him along the cliff edge.
Cynthia and Theo looked at each other, then walked along in silence.
Noon came and went. It was slow going, between everyone's exhaustion and Mr. Woodrow actually carrying Lumus on his back. Evening began to set upon them now and, aside from a few minor dips in the terrain, there was still little sign of a place where the two groups could reunite.
Finally, as the sun was beginning to kiss the tops of the trees, the sheer cliff gave way to a slope. Theo and Cynthia half skidded down to finally reach Lumus and Mr. Woodrow, then set up camp for the night. It didn't even matter anymore to Cynthia that this would normally be the middle of the day for her. She needed sleep.

No one woke her for watch that night, and the morning found her sore but awake. She was still exhausted, but they could finally work out how to get home.
“We have no choice but to walk,” Mr. Woodrow said flatly. There was none of the usual good-humoured nature in his voice. Everyone seemed to be suffering the same obvious displeasure; there was no breakfast to be had and more rain in the night had left them cold, tired, and more than ready to leave the woods.
“That will take far too long,” Theo protested, his hands jerking through the signs in frustration. “Lumus needs proper medical treatment right away, and the healing I did on Cynthia is only a quick fix. That patch on her ribs will wear off soon enough.”
“And that's exactly why we can't fly,” Lumus chimed in. “If it was just Red here that needed carrying, we could manage if we traded off every few hours, but I'm a sight heavier than her and a good deal harder to carry since you'd have to mind my wing. We just don't have much choice here.”
“What about the naga?” Cynthia asked. “We'd have to go back through its territory to get back to the village, and even if it doesn't attack us right away, there's nothing to stop it following us.” She rubbed the bandage on her left arm.
Mr. Woodrow clapped a hand on Cynthia's shoulder, almost a little too hard. He was tense. “Don't worry about that snake. What I did to it, the thing's going to need at least a week to recover enough to squirm back out of its hole again.” He looked back to the group at large again. "We were only scheduled a week for this trip. It's day three now; standard protocol dictates the other scouts wait a day past our scheduled return before they send out search parties. If we're not back in five days, we can build up a signal fire and get a lift when they find us.”
There wasn't really much more to say after that. The four of them packed up camp, Mr. Woodrow hefted Lumus onto his back again, and they set off back up the slope and in the general direction of home.

It felt like they were taking the long way around everything. Every obstacle needed to be climbed over or circumvented, and they had to be sure to keep off the mountain slopes wherever possible in order to conserve their energy. In addition, they had to take frequent rests, both for Cynthia's injuries and so Mr. Woodrow and Theo could have a break after carrying Lumus for a few hours each.
The autumn bounty at least kept them from starving, even if they weren't entirely satiated, and there were plenty of clear mountain streams for them to refill their water-skins. By the third day, though, Cynthia found herself daydreaming about all the food she was going to eat once they got back to the village. Hot soup, steaming fresh bread, and a big slice of pie. She was certain it would be at least a month before she'd be able to even look at another tuber without grimacing.
By day five, it felt like they'd been walking for closer to a month and Cynthia had had just about enough of it all. The walking, the blisters, the hunger, the aching muscles and ribs, she was sick of it. She nearly cried with relief when they reached a clearing and Mr. Woodrow finally announced that they'd be stopping there to build their fire.
“There should be a small flask of oil in one of your packs, Nightingale,” Mr. Woodrow told her, pulling one from his own collection. “That's for lighting signal fires. Ordinary forest material tends to create white smoke, unless you get lucky. That's not easy to pick out most of the time, so we toss some oil in to make the smoke black, and it gives the added bonus of making the fire bigger.”
“I might still have it.... I lost a few packs when the naga was chasing us the first time. One of them had my medical supplies in it. Oh, here we go. Is this it?”
“That's the one.” Lumus gave her a thumbs up. “Just hang onto it for now. We really only need one at a time, or we'd risk turning half the forest into a giant bonfire.”
“Jokes about setting the woods ablaze aside,” Theo cut in, halfheartedly cuffing the back of Lumus' head, “Cynthia, come get some of these scrap pieces ready for kindling. You remember how to do this properly, right?”
“Yeah, I remember. Shave the wood almost to the end so you've got lots of fine curls.”
Theo nodded and passed her a knife, then left her to the task while he went off to find more firewood.
By evening, there was a large bonfire blazing in the middle of the clearing. Mr. Woodrow took over managing the thing while telling everyone else to rest. They all happily obliged. Cynthia flopped onto her back and did her best to not think about how much everything ached while she listened to the crackling of the fire.
All that was left was to wait. So they waited. And waited. Night came upon them. Cynthia actually hadn't realized she'd dozed off until the sound of heavy wing-beats startled her awake just past noon.
She scrambled to her feet, searching the sky for the source of the sound. She soon found it, spotting Tristan coming in fast for a landing. He flapped his wings only a few times to keep himself steady, coming in for a running landing instead of his usual “slow and drop” method.
Cynthia barely had time to register the worry painted across his reddened face, or how out of breath he was, before she found herself completely enveloped in him. His arms, his wings, his sage and pine scent surrounded and overwhelmed her senses in a way that made her realize just how much she'd missed him during the past week. She didn't even care that he also stank of sweat or that he was stroking her head in front of everyone else, she was too busy trying not to cry.
“Cynthia! Cynthia, I was so worried! You weren't back when you said you'd be and I thought something awful must have happened to you. Thank God you're alright!”
“Alright might be a bit generous,” Cynthia chuckled softly, trying to mind her ribs. “Let's start with alive and go from there, huh?”

Tristan had, of course, brought a small contingent of searchers along with him. A flying stretcher system was organized to carry Lumus. Tristan carried Cynthia on his own, his powerful dragon wings being more than capable of handling her extra weight. Finally, the village was in sight and Cynthia was already imagining being back in her warm soft bed.
There was no resting when they arrived, however. Between the scout heads wanting exact detailed reports on what had happened, and Cynthia and Lumus summarily being dragged away to have their broken bones properly treated, it was several hours before Cynthia could even have a moment to breathe without someone questioning or prodding her.
Finally, finally, it all abated. Cynthia was given orders for bed rest and sent on her way. Tristan was by her side less than a minute later, hovering awkwardly as he fought the urge to hold her tight and risk aggravating her injury.
“Would you like me to walk you home?” he asked, finally settling for draping a wing around her shoulder so she could be close but not in pain.
Cynthia groaned. “Not really. Seirin and Edlemere are going to be waiting there to interrogate me, I just know it. I don't have the energy for them right now.”
“My house then? I know I don't have as many pillows as you do, but Demetri will be quiet until he wakes up at sunset, and I don't mind sleeping on the couch.”
Cynthia tilted her head, thinking about the offer. “You know what, that sounds good. If you're fine with finding feathers in your sheets, I'm thankful for the offer.”
Tristan stopped, a look of surprise caught on his face. “You normally spend half the walk telling me not to trouble myself. What changed?”
“I learned a lot over the past week. You were right, I should let myself rely on you more. It's not fair if I'm making you worry all the time because I'm too stubborn.”
The drakin smiled and pulled Cynthia in for a gentle side hug. “It's my job to worry about you, Songbird,” he laughed, kissing the top of her head. “But thank you for relying on me. It makes me so glad.”

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The lovely feather page breaks were made custom for me by the amazing and wonderful Quicksilver-Rain. Find more of her art on her instagram.