I heard myself whining in fear as I rushed to my mate, began nuzzling her frantically, but got no response. I shook her, but she flopped about limply like a marionette with her strings cut, her dull eyes staring sightlessly at the jungle.
Her throat had been torn out.
No. I looked down at my hands, found them covered with her blood--
No! I tried to get it off. I wiped at it and wiped at it but I couldn't get it off--
I threw my head back and screamed blue flame at the skies, howling my grief until I felt as if I were tearing myself apart and I could scream no longer. I bowed my head, shuddering, staring blindly at my mate's body, until a single thought worked its way to the surface of my shattered mind:
THE CHILDREN!
I felt my eyes go wide, my breath coming in a tearing gasp as I launched myself over her corpse and dove into our cave. I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry but I have to find our children I have to see I have to see I . . . have to . . . . . . see. . . .
..
I twisted away from the nest and fell to the floor, my talons gouging deep into the stone as I retched violently again and again, my guts still trying to turn themselves inside out long after there was nothing left.
. . . .S'funny: I've been places, seen things that would sicken Satan himself, but have never been affected by it. Until now. Now that it was personal. . . .
I lifted my streaming eyes back to the nest once again and stared at what was inside until I could no longer bear it, then slowly stumbled outside. The grief began turning into a peculiar numbness as I stared at my mate's still form. Slowly, robotically, I straightened out her limbs, then carefully picked her up and carried her inside.
With agonizing care I placed her back into her nest, coiling her protectively about her children, gently grooming all of her feathers back into place, then finally closing her golden eyes.
I'm sorry, baby, so very sorry I wasn't here. . . .So sorry. . . .You rest now, baby; Michael's going to make just one more trip, and when he returns he's going to bring you one last present. . . .
. . . .One last present. . . .
The numbness was fading; being replaced by an all-too familiar chill as I emerged from the cave. I began scanning the ground, and quickly found what I was looking for: A paw print. Not mine, and too large for my mate.
You.
I crouched in the mud and began going over it one square centimeter at a time with eyes, nose and tongue, using all my draconic instincts to slowly wring the story from the churned earth and intertwined scents.
My mate had left the nest for a moment. . . .Lured? Trying to hunt? Unknown. . . .He was there; possibly had been watching us, waiting for such an opportunity. Somehow, he got in behind her, got into the den, where he did the unthinkable. But she caught him before he could escape and went after him with fang and claw. Trapped, unable to get away, he'd killed her, but not before my mate had inflicted severe damage.
The prints were fresh, and rigor mortis hadn't set into my mate's body yet. That meant . . . I closed my eyes and fought for control. . . .That meant that none of this could have happened more than a few hours ago. If I hadn't taken that nap, if I had come straight here. . . .
Enough. There's no time. I followed a bloody set of tracks as they staggered out into the clearing, then examined the last set, deeply imprinted into the ground by a leap into the air.
I felt my fangs baring themselves in a humorless grin. Heading northwest.
Gotcha.
I spun back to where I'd left the dead cow and began to tear it apart, gobbling it down as quickly as I could. My guts twisted queasily, but I held it down: I needed the fuel for what was to come.
I stripped the cow to the bare bones, then hurled the remainder into the underbrush. Then I turned and gave the entrance to my mate's den one final glance.
. . . .one last present, baby. . . .
I exploded off of the ground, clawing for altitude until I was well clear of the terrain, then turned northwest. A few miles out, I began a hasty search pattern, zigzagging across my target's line of departure, my eyes scanning both the ground and the skies.
It had been a sunny day, and the air was supercharged with energy. I exploited it ruthlessly, generating thermal after thermal, thrusting myself along until the wind roared over my wings. Behind me, chaos reigned as those discarded columns of warm, wet air jostled one another, destabilized still more warm air in a runaway chain reaction that soon had enormous thunderheads boiling in my wake.
They spread to the sides as I zigged and zagged, forming themselves into a gigantic squall line that stalked behind me on jagged legs of lightning. I drew upon that lightning, absorbing it, using it to rejuvenate my tiring muscles.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Where are you, you bastard? My mate did you too much damage for you to have gotten far. . . .
There. A crag of stone poking above a ridge line, atop which perched my adversary, wings sagging, nursing his wounds.
I have you.