The thought frustrates me, deepening the chasm between me and my clan. Why don’t I fit in? What’s wrong with me?
Shaking off my doubts, I focus on the task at hand. We need to find food, and we need to find it quickly. Before the sun sets and the monsters come out of hiding.
We’ve been flying for a while now, and the forest below us has become denser. The canopy is so thick it’s like a wall of green, blocking out the rest of the world. The temperature drops and the air grows cooler. Below us, the terrain shifts. Gone are the rolling hills and grassy fields. Instead, a different forest, a dark, foreboding one, emerges. Its branches stretch towards us, clawing at the air and the sky. We’re in griffin territory, but I don’t see any sign of the beasts.
I scan the ground below, searching for any signs of movement. But there’s nothing. They’ve become less and less common as of late. Rumor has it there’s a kingdom nearby where they live with sentience, though I find the concept almost laughable. They aren’t stupid creatures, but they’re certainly not smart enough to communicate like we do.
“Any luck?” I shout back to Lyria.
“Not yet!” she shouts, her voice carrying in the quiet.
“We should find some griffin nests,” I suggest, trying to sound confident. “They’re usually well-stocked with eggs this time of year.”
“That’s a good idea,” she agrees. “If they aren’t around, that would give us a good opening to scavenge the area.”
As we fly deeper into the forest, I feel a strange sensation come over me. It’s as if an unseen force is guiding me, pulling me in a specific direction. It’s not the first time I’ve felt this pull, but I always brush it off as being my imagination. Today though, I’m feeling more vulnerable than usual, so I allow myself to listen. Intrigued and slightly bewildered, I follow my instincts, leading us through a labyrinth of twisted branches and dense foliage.
“Where are you taking us?” Lyria calls out, clearly confused.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly, “But something tells me I’m going the right way.”
“Astryl, you’ve been acting strangely,” Lyria says. “What’s wrong? Have you eaten something bad? You’ve been quiet, and you’ve got this sour look on your face. It reminds me of the time one of the other dragon shifters in my den ate the wrong berries.”
“No, no, I’m fine,” I reply, but the words ring hollow, even to my own ears.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I insist.
Lyria looks skeptical, but she doesn’t press the matter further.
“I think we’re getting closer,” I say, craning my neck to look back at her.
“How do you know?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, “but I can feel it.”
It’s like an invisible hand pulling me along, urging me forward. I can feel Lyria’s growing concern, her eyes darting around as we fly, but I’m focused on following this inexplicable pull.
“There’s a clearing up ahead!” Lyria shouts, pointing to an opening in the dense foliage.
We soar toward it, and there, nestled among the branches of a towering tree, is an unguarded griffin nest. My heart leaps at the sight of it. “Finally, some luck!” I exclaim.
Lyria nods, landing gracefully beside the nest. “Let’s grab the eggs and get out of here before the griffins come back.”
Quickly, we set to work collecting the eggs, taking care not to damage them as we fill my satchel with the precious orbs. Lyria and I are still scrambling to collect them when a low growl cuts through the air. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I whirl around just in time to see a large griffin flying at us, its golden eyes blazing with rage.
“Astryl, watch out!” Lyria screams in panic.
With lightning speed, the griffin swoops down, narrowly missing Lyria as she manages to dodge out of the way. But its momentum carries it toward me, and before I can react, its talons tear through my wing, sending a searing pain shooting through my body.
I cry out, my scream echoing through the forest as I lose control and plummet toward the ground. I desperately try to beat my wings, but the pain is too much. I feel myself shifting, my body contorting and reshaping as I revert to my human form.
With my injured wing hanging limp at my side, I crash land in a thicket of brambles, the thorns cutting into my skin as I tumble to a stop. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I manage to scramble to my feet and stumble toward a nearby cave, hoping to find refuge before the griffin can finish what it started.
In the sky, I watch as Lyria takes off toward home, leaving me here. Alone.
Inside the cave, I collapse against the cool, damp wall, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I try to process what just happened. My back throbs painfully where my wing attacheswhen in my dragon form, and I can feel warm blood trickling down my back. Tears sting my eyes as I realize the extent of my injuries. I can’t fly back home until I’ve healed enough to shift back to my dragon form. I’m stuck here.
