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       #Post#: 711--------------------------------------------------
       ::: Blood Tide ::: ~Hydra~
       By: Hydrawings Date: July 31, 2017, 12:26 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Yup, I'm putting this here.
       PROLOGUE
       High on the cliff, the Night Wings could see the battle wave and
       churn.  Colors flashing, reflecting the light of the three full
       moons, like a dance of fire and death.
       It would be a final, fatal battle.
       But not for them.
       Periodically, massive jets of fire would shoot up out of the
       mass of dragons, scattering charred bodies everywhere.  Whenever
       that happened, Bareskull would wince, and her partner
       Dreamflight would put a wing around her in comfort.
       They were weaklings.
       Pastfinder stood alone on the edge of the cliff, night-black
       scales reflecting the carnage like a polished obsidian mirror.
       His mother and father were down there, battling, while he and
       his sister and her partner sat up on the cliff.
       Them?  Because they were weak.  Him?  Because he was too
       important to loose.  Pastfinder was the Prophet, the speaker of
       fate.
       Another Firestorm erupted, right through the center of the Sky
       Wing army, and even Pastfinder flinched, hearing the agonized
       screams of the dying soldiers.
       Those were the weapons of mass destruction, the reason the
       Destroyer army had held out for so long.  But this would be
       their last stand.
       Pastfinder grinned in ecstasy, white teeth flashing against the
       darkness of his scales.  He could imagine a new life, free from
       the oppression of the Destroyers, where dragonkind could finally
       thrive.
       And he would be leading them into the light.
       But for now, destruction raged on the plain below.  Dragons
       roared and Destroyers, puny little things they were, shrieked.
       Pastfinder caught sight of his parents, fighting side by side
       with Sky Wings, Ice Breathers, Mud Crawlers, Rain Wings,
       Scorpiontails, and Sea Swimmers.  The NightWing felt pride swell
       in his chest as the combined force of the dragon tribes forced
       the Destroyer army back.
       Colors and fire and blood flashed in the darkness.  The moons
       shone above like proud, watchful eyes as the final Destroyer
       squadron was forced against the cliff below him.  This was the
       end.  Pastfinder felt his sister and sister-in-law press against
       his wings.  He felt unusually affectionate towards them, his
       talons gripping the rocks below him so hard he couldn't feel
       them.  They were all one tribe that night, destroying the
       Destroyers, winning freedom.
       Then Pastfinder saw his mother lunge at a Destroyer, and he felt
       it in slow-motion as the Destroyer lit the fuse on a Firestorm,
       far below… Pastfinder opened his mouth to scream a warning,
       lunging forward without thinking… the Firestorm erupted, and the
       NightWing felt a million stabs of agony through his body, fire
       filling his open mouth with a vicious fury as the eruption of
       flame wiped out everything around it.  He was caught right in
       the blast of fiery death.
       Everything was pain and fire and screaming and falling.  He hit
       the field below the cliff with a sickening crunch—despite
       Bareskull and Dreamflight trying to catch him, their screams
       combining with his hoarse cries.
       Through the agony and blindness and fire, Pathfinder was aware
       of silence, and ash below him.
       “Mother,” he croaked, pain and blood and broken bones making the
       agony worse.
       His wing membranes were ash.  He knew in his heart that he was
       little more than a scorched shell now.  He knew his diamond-hard
       bones were shattered against the bedrock.  So stupid… so stupid…
       Silence greeted him.  The Destroyers were gone.
       But so was his mother.
       And so was his future.
       Pastfinder’s tear ducts were scorched off, his eyelids sealed
       open, his vision blurry.  W-why couldn't I see this?  Why?
       “Night-Nightflier,” came a sob from Pastfinder’s father.
       “Pastfinder… no…”  The dragon armies began to cheer, because
       even if their Night Wing General and their Prophet were gone, so
       were the Destroyers.  Freedom had come through the pain.  The
       pain that kept burning, throbbing, agony…
       The other Generals were silent.
       No, Pastfinder tried to cry, it can't be over.  I'm not dead!
       Please!  But his eyes rolled up in his head, and what came out
       were words more terrible than he had ever heard…
       “In the shallow seas, blood blooms,
       Crimson, glistening, beneath the moons,
       In the deepest trenches slumbers,
       The bane of life, the fear that hungers,
       When rivers run with fire and ash,
       The demons in the water slash,
       And blood of hatchlings runs red tide,
       The darkest fear that sleeps inside,
       With blood tide and ash-soaked streams,
       Inside, the darkness sleeps and dreams,
       To bear the standard, block the moons,
       When time is right and hatred b-blooms,
       The p-peace, the water s-s-spirit mak-makes,
       Blood-Blood Tide will r-rise when-when F-f-fear—fear awakes—”
       Blood, thick and red, bubbled up Pastfinder’s throat as he
       choked out the last lines, burbling and roiling until he was
       thrashing, drowning, and talons gripped him, pleading, but it
       was too late… the Prophet was dead, in a puddle of blood, amidst
       the ashes of his destiny.
       ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
       #Post#: 822--------------------------------------------------
       Re: ::: Blood Tide ::: ~Hydra~
       By: Bengal Date: July 31, 2017, 10:21 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [font=times new roman]OOH IT'S BLOODY ME LIKEY[/font]
       #Post#: 1230--------------------------------------------------
       Re: ::: Blood Tide ::: ~Hydra~
       By: Hydrawings Date: August 1, 2017, 11:25 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       CHAPTER ONE
       5,317 years later…
       Cool, crystal clear water lapped at Sagebrush’s talons, and the
       SandWing closed her eyes, letting the rushing sound of the waves
       calm her.  The sand was soft beneath her claws.  Seabirds cried,
       sounding like laughing dragonets.  The salty breeze blew past,
       rustling the tall grasses below a clear, pale blue sky.
       All was peace and quiet.
       Except for, of course, the flipped flopped upside-down minds of
       the SeaWing pair who had been stalking her.
       There she is, the Weird SandWing with the diamonds by her eyes
       and the black ridges on her scales and she looks at the water
       like she's drowning drowning—
       Sagebrush surreptitiously rubbed the dark scales on the back of
       her forelegs.  She wondered if they knew that she was half
       NightWing—usually, their thoughts were muddled and twisted and
       upside-down.  Like their thoughts were made of shapes.  Sage
       couldn't always tell what they knew and what they didn't—she had
       never met a dragon like that before.
       And now there were two following her.
       Do I really look at the water like I'm drowning?  She wondered.
       The glistening ocean threw spray against her tan scales,
       reflecting sunlight.  Sagebrush squinted into the depths.  She
       could make out two blobby forms.  The older brother was the
       mostly coherent one, the one she usually listened to.
       Sometimes it was nice to have company.  Even if it was weird
       SeaWing company who didn't realize she was aware of them.
       She’s cocking her head at us—how?  We could get welcomed back to
       the tribe—protected—if we chase her off.  Is she a—a strange
       image of mud-brown scales rippling flashed through his mind,
       combined with blood and terrified shuddering—spy?
       Sagebrush wasn't too worried about his repeated thoughts
       relating to chasing her off.  He was small, scrawny, and clearly
       a SeaWing reject.  What made her curious were his thoughts about
       that… something.
       The sister’s anxiety spiked, her shapeless kaleidoscopic
       thoughts filling with blood and ripples.  The pair apparently
       had some kind of pseudo-telepathic connection between them—it
       was fascinating.
       Sagebrush wondered how that could happen.  They must be
       incredibly close, for SeaWing siblings, she pondered.
       The hybrid sat down in the sand.  She liked it here, it reminded
       her of the good parts of home—cool, crystal water, sand—but
       without the overbearing, demanding parents and scorching heat.
       Seagulls cried overhead.  The weird SeaWings bobbed in the ocean
       and thought about her.
       Quiet, peaceful.
       There was only one bad thing about it, and that was the nearby
       marshes.  When Sagebrush had ran away—or as she preferred to
       think about it, taken an extended vacation—she hadn't worried
       much about the mysterious events going on in the Mud Queendom.
       Then dragonets began to go missing.  They turned up, brutally
       murdered, inside water holes.  Dragons were beginning to mutter.
       And clearly, these two crazy SeaWings had seen it happen.
       Sagebrush sighed, lying down, resting her muzzle on her talons.
       She had liked these past three months.  They had been relaxing.
       But now, she was itching for excitement, and the two SeaWings
       offered the perfect opportunity.  Her curiosity prickled inside
       her.  Curiosity killed the scavenger, warned her mother’s voice,
       but Sagebrush ignored it.  Her mother wasn't here to boss her
       around this time, tell her how to live her life.
       If she wanted to, Sagebrush could rule the world.
       Whitetip, the male SeaWing suddenly thought with startling
       intensity.  Dive!  They're coming!
       Sagebrush abruptly jumped up, heart skipping a beat as she
       flipped around.  Her barbed tail brandished furiously at…
       Nothing.
       No thoughts.  No yelling.  No dragons.  Only waving grasses and
       seabirds.  What did the male mean…?
       And then she felt fish-hook talons close around her barb and
       shove it under her her jaw, right over her vital artery.  She
       suddenly understood.
       “Holy moons, you’re brilliant,” Sagebrush stammered, palming a
       sharp stone.  “That was really clever.  I mean, I wouldn't have
       suspected it, you're so—”
       “Shut your bawling face,” the male SeaWing hissed, his voice
       higher and colder than Sagebrush would've suspected.  His
       thoughts were shattered, broken, disconnected, and full of fear.
       Heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through her, terrified and
       shocked, Sagebrush shut her face.
       “Now answer.  Who are you?  Why are you here?  Are you here to
       hurt us?  What is my sister’s name?”
       Sagebrush swallowed, trying to think, not able to recall what
       her battle instructor had said about being threatened like this.
       He never said anything about being threatened with my own barb!
       “I-I’m Sagebrush.  Daughter of the SandWing merchant Abrasion
       and the NightWing assassin Fearstrike.  I-I ran away.  I-I’m not
       here to hurt you.  P-p-please don't hurt me.”  Sage hadn't been
       faced with this before, and she couldn't remember anything.
       Her talons were trembling.
       “ANSWER!  What is my sister’s name?”
       “W-Whitetip,” Sage squeaked.  She knew it was useless trying to
       hide the fact that she was a mindreader, after idiotically
       reacting to the SeaWing’s fake warning.
       “I knew it.  I knew it.  I knew it.”  The SeaWing snarled.  Now
       he was shaking, too.  Sage swallowed, holding her breath,
       praying he didn't accidentally scratch her with her barb.
       “Leave us alone, you hear?  Leave us alone!”
       “Okay!  Okay.  It was really smart, though.  Your plan.  You're
       brilliant.  You could help me—”
       The cold tip of her barb pressed against Sage’s throat, and she
       froze.  This SeaWing wasn't to be trifled with.
       A few disconnected thoughts escaped the mess.  Mother—an image
       of a sea-green dragon holding the limp, dead body of a dragonet,
       a crazed smile on her face and in her eyes—don't want to kill,
       pretty, she said I was smart—an image of knives and fangs—just
       want to protect Whitetip.  Have to protect.  Can't let her end
       up dead in a well, torn to bits— the SeaWing shuddered, letting
       out a whimper, and released Sage.
       The SandWing gasped for breath and stumbled away.  Then she
       turned around, in a battle position, but she quickly found it
       was pointless—the SeaWing was holding Whitetip in his wings,
       trying to comfort his sister.
       “No, I’m not—please—” the male SeaWing begged.  Whitetip’s
       thoughts were even more strange than her brother’s.  She wasn't
       speaking, but her mouth opened and closed, and her freakishly
       pale eyes were wide.  A flash of vivid emotion speared Sage’s
       mind painfully—terror, pain, fear—
       Sage warily relaxed, curious and still scared, lowering her
       barbed tail and rubbing it.  Heart still pounding, she carefully
       inspected the pair.
       The older brother was darker, a gray-blue-green color.  His
       wingtips, tailtip, and talons were dark gray.  He was skinny.
       His long limbs were trembling.  Whitetip was smaller, with pale
       blue-gray scales and white where her brother had dark gray.  She
       thought in dots, colors, lines, and waves.  Fear shone through
       like full moons.
       Sage backed away, not wanting to be murdered or given to the
       SeaWing queen.  She didn't know why these two were here, or what
       they were running from.  The MudWings?  Their mother?
       Something big had happened to them.  That much was sure.
       Something that forced them out of the Sea Queendom.  You don't
       need to know, Sage told herself, but she was curious, and she
       never backed away from a mystery.
       Not even if it killed her.
       #Post#: 1322--------------------------------------------------
       Re: ::: Blood Tide ::: ~Hydra~
       By: Bengal Date: August 1, 2017, 4:06 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [font=times new roman]OOH MURDER[/font]
       #Post#: 1565--------------------------------------------------
       Re: ::: Blood Tide ::: ~Hydra~
       By: Hydrawings Date: August 2, 2017, 10:47 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       So, I worked on this fanfic for the first time in forever
       yesterday.
       Please tell me to work on it more.
       #Post#: 1612--------------------------------------------------
       Re: ::: Blood Tide ::: ~Hydra~
       By: Bengal Date: August 2, 2017, 2:01 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [font=times new roman]Okie.
       PLEASE DO MORE[/font]
       #Post#: 2405--------------------------------------------------
       Re: ::: Blood Tide ::: ~Hydra~
       By: Hydrawings Date: August 5, 2017, 11:07 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       CHAPTER TWO
       6 months ago…
       Damselfly was in trouble.  Big trouble.  She was in more
       trouble, more danger, than pretty much any dragon in Pyrrhia.
       She was in so much trouble, she was sure she was going to die.
       Her fate, her life, depended on succeeding.  This was the most
       important decision she had ever made in her life.
       “Checkmate!”  Said Crawdad, grinning triumphantly.
       Damselfly groaned and sat back, mournfully inspecting the
       chessboard.  Her friend had beat her… again.  “This is the third
       time in a row!  Can't you go easy on me for once?”
       “I was going easy on you,” Crawdad grinned cheekily.  “You’re
       just really bad at chess.”
       Damselfly laughed and playfully punched him on the arm.  Crawdad
       laughed too.  “Don't worry, you’re still my best friend.”
       The princess felt a tingly rushing sensation as he smiled at
       her, and Damselfly felt like she could never be sad again while
       Crawdad was there.  “You’re my best friend, too,” she said.  I
       wish we were more than that.
       She didn't realize they were staring into each other's eyes
       until they both blushed and turned away, blabbering about
       cleaning up the chessboard.  Damselfly was grinning so hard her
       face felt like it would split.
       If it didn't catch on fire first.  The princess turned away, not
       wanting Crawdad to see her blushing.
       “I-I really like you, Damselfly, you know that, right?”
       Stammered Crawdad.  Damselfly turned around.
       “Y-yes, I do.  I really l-like you, too, Crawdad,” the MudWing
       said breathlessly.  “Like—you know—I like you.”  She had never
       felt more like a bonfire in her life, grinning stupidly.
       “Like like?” Crawdad was grinning too.  “You do?  You like me?”
       He looked like he could fly across oceans and touch the stars
       and never get tired.
       Damselfly loved him.  She loved him.
       “Yes, I…” Damselfly never finished her sentence, it trailed off
       as they looked deep into each other's eyes, and they got closer
       and closer… Crawdad’s eyes were like deep, warm pools of
       welcoming mud… his wings, enfolding her, as strong as oak
       branches…
       And then the door to the room they were in slammed open.  The
       two dragons leapt apart like they had been electrocuted.
       Still grinning foolishly, blushing like a ripe cherry, Damselfly
       turned to the intruder.  Her grin slid off her face like it was
       syrup.
       It was her brother Caiman, and he looked more terrified than he
       ever had in his entire life.  “Damsel.  Damsel… our cousin… you
       have to… just come see, hurry, you might've missed it…”  The
       MudWing swayed on his feet.
       “What is it?  What happened?”  Damselfly felt delirious, the
       chemicals in her brain going haywire.  She wasn't scared, she
       had been too happy, her mind was full of Crawdad… but confusion
       was sinking in.  “What are you talking about?  Our cousin?”
       “Dragonfly.  Dragonfly challenged Queen Horsefly for the
       throne.”  Caiman’s voice caught in a sob.
       Later, Damselfly barely remembered anything about flying as fast
       as she possibly could up to the challenge arena, feeling like
       the world had stopped spinning.  All she could see was blood,
       her favorite, poor, timid cousin Dragonfly, standing in the
       blood of her mother the queen…
       “No,” muttered Crawdad.  Damselfly couldn't hear him, her ears
       were filled with roaring, roaring blood… or was that the MudWing
       tribe?  No no no no no no no…
       “He did it.  He did it.”  Crawdad was shaking, and Damselfly
       barely recognized his words.  In the back of her mind, she
       wondered why her friend had said “he”.  She could only see the
       death.  Her cousin was a killer.
       Her cousin was queen.
       “No.  NO!”  Shouted Crawdad, barging through the crowd towards
       the arena.  Damselfly sprang after him, shouting.  Is he
       attacking Dragonfly?  She thought numbly.  The guards started to
       yell, flying to intercept Crawdad, but the MudWing dodged, wings
       snapping open.
       Crawdad lunged right at the Chief Advisor, Mongoose.  Damselfly
       screamed, screamed for him to stop.
       Only she saw the advisor’s mouth move, his left talon come up
       right over Crawdad’s heart to intercept his attack.  Only
       Damselfly saw Mongoose’s bored, casual expression as Crawdad
       spasmed and fell, face twisted in agony.
       Only Damselfly saw.  Only she knew.  As the darkness closed in
       and the ground rushed up to meet her, she saw Mongoose smiling
       at her, his talon opening and closing above Crawdad’s body…
       ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
       Current time…
       Damselfly slammed a pot down into the stack, the dishes
       rattling.  She didn't understand why a royal princess had to be
       on cleanup duty—it was another of her mother’s stupid plans to
       get her out of her “self-pity streak”.
       “So what if your “one true love” died?  We're MudWings, we don't
       have “one true loves”.  Grow up.  You need to do something other
       than mope for the rest of your life.
       “Besides, he was just a common guard.  If you really want a
       boyfriend, there are a million more just like him!”
       The words clashed around in Damselfly’s head, and she imagined
       her mother's face as the pot she was scrubbing, rubbing away all
       the flesh and skin as her mother screamed…
       Rage made Damselfly’s talons shake.
       “I shouldn't have to babysit you, Damselfly!  You're as pathetic
       as a newborn dragonet, having to have your mother control your
       life!  You need to learn now to act your age!”
       The pot clunked against the others, the princess imagined then
       as bones, stripped clean, her mother devoured by wild dogs…
       “And do you really expect me to believe that the esteemed Chief
       Advisor, the honorable Mongoose, killed him?  You need to stop
       your childish cries for attention!  Lies won't turn you into
       some special snowflake everyone feels sorry for.”
       Horsetail, aunt to the queen, Damselfly’s mother, died horribly
       dozens more times until the princess was finished cleaning the
       dishes.
       You have to be strong, she told herself, the horrible, venomous
       words echoing in her mind.  Your siblings need you.  You're
       their Bigwings.  You have a duty.  The princess bit her
       trembling lip.
       But Damselfly could feel herself slowly slipping away, her mind
       a maze of stormclouds and blood, because all she could think
       about was Crawdad’s last moments.
       She spent days at a time in her room.  She tried to figure out
       the puzzle.  Nothing fit.  She needed to avenge Crawdad’s death,
       no matter what the cost, but she couldn't focus…  Damselfly
       dried a pot with shaking talons, a familiar desperate sob riding
       in her chest.
       Crawdad’s eyes, light brown, welcoming, warm.  His wings
       encircled her, holding her close.  “I’ll always be here for you,
       Damselfly… nothing can take me away…” But when Damselfly looked
       closer, she saw his eyes were gone, the sockets filled with
       maggots.  His scales were rotten, falling off.  As Damselfly
       screamed, her best friend and lover fell apart in her wings,
       rotten flesh dripping and sliding off his skeleton, emancipated
       skin pulling tight around his face to form a skeletal grin.  The
       bones shattered, stabbing deep into Damselfly’s own body.  She
       screamed, blood bubbling up her throat… and the last thing she
       saw was Mongoose, laughing, blood gushing out of his eyes and
       mouth, drowning the princess…
       The plate slipped from Damselfly’s talons and crashed to the
       floor, sending shards of clay everywhere.
       #Post#: 2461--------------------------------------------------
       Re: ::: Blood Tide ::: ~Hydra~
       By: Bengal Date: August 5, 2017, 3:11 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [font=times new roman]Damselfly has my chess skills[/font]
       #Post#: 2493--------------------------------------------------
       Re: ::: Blood Tide ::: ~Hydra~
       By: Malplenan Date: August 5, 2017, 9:18 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Mine too.
       #Post#: 2608--------------------------------------------------
       Re: ::: Blood Tide ::: ~Hydra~
       By: Hydrawings Date: August 7, 2017, 1:06 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       CHAPTER THREE
       To be an assassin, one must have a certain amount of
       emotionlessness.  Barracuda considered herself the master of
       suppressing emotions.  That's how she grew to become the best
       SeaWing assassin in Pyrrhia, if she dare flatter herself.  No
       baby dragonet, no close friend was safe from her claws—she had a
       reputation to uphold.
       So when she was sent after the two mentally disabled dragonets
       of the old Priestess Shorebird, Barracuda swallowed her guilt,
       packed up her murder weapons, and splashed into the ocean.
       Water spirits whispered around the SeaWing’s long, dark
       green-gray form as she swam, welcoming her as one of their own.
       Barracuda always felt at home in the water.  It helped her pull
       off the most difficult kills.
       Speeding to the surface, Barracuda checked the position of the
       sun on the water, adjusting her route.  The two SeaWing
       dragonets—she thought of them as the Prey now—had last been
       spotted around the Stonefall Cliffs, on the border of the Mud
       Queendom.
       Dangerous territory.
       The SeaWing wondered what they were doing clear out there,
       seemingly to have only escaped from the talons to the shark
       mouth.  Even she wouldn't go there without backup, usually… but
       she had to do her job.  And she was a good fighter.  Excellent,
       in fact, she was top of her class in pretty much… everything.
       Barracuda allowed herself a small, dark smile.
       She wouldn't let her mysterious employer down.
       Swimming through the dark water, Barracuda lost track of time.
       Soon, she breached the top of the waves to see moonlight, and
       though her eyes weren't good enough, the water spirits murmured
       that land was nearby.
       The assassin ducked under the water again, lashing her powerful
       SeaWing tail to propel her faster towards the cliffs.  This job
       might be done quickly.  Her gut told her it wouldn't.
       An hour later, Barracuda reached the Stonefall cliffs, the water
       cresting in white-tipped waves as it broke against the stone
       walls.  The SeaWing let herself drift against the cliffs, ears
       pricked.  No sign of the Prey.  They were probably long gone by
       now.
       Barracuda swam to a beach, letting her fishhook talons sink into
       the wet sand; frothy, cool water rush against her wings.  The
       waterproof bag containing her arsenal of knives thumped against
       her chest.
       The Prey were dragonets.  They couldn't swim long distances
       without resting.  They probably rested on this beach, and if
       they weren't clever…
       Barracuda scanned the beach, but she spotted no talonprints.
       Only… was that a print, in that patch of shore grass?  The
       assassin carefully picked her way over.  It wasn't a SeaWing
       print, that was obvious from first glance—and it was too small
       to be her employer’s print, who was obviously an adult.  What
       was a dragonet doing clear out here?  An unsettling chill ran
       down Barracuda’s spine, annoying her.  It's nothing.  And even
       if it is something, it's not my business.  I'm looking for two
       runaway SeaWing dragonets, not a missing (or murdered) hybrid.
       The SeaWing shook her head grumpily, leaping back into the
       waves.  She would check the beaches heading Northwest, towards
       safer SkyWing territory—obviously these dragons had some
       intelligence, they would want to get out of MudWing territory as
       fast as possible.
       The moon rose higher as Barracuda swam, the silver light
       reflecting on the waves.  The water spirits were dancing
       tonight.  It was good luck, and the SeaWing’s hopes rose as she
       drifted slowly into a small bay.  Completely still, like a log
       of driftwood, she watched the dark reeds.
       And suddenly there were claws scraping painfully down her back,
       water spray everywhere as a dragon crashed into her.  Barracuda
       roared, forgetting for a moment the need for silence as she
       flipped around and bit down hard on the foreleg grabbing at her.
       It promptly let go with a yelp.
       Well, the yelp was probably the dragon attached to it, but
       whatever.
       Barracuda had a wickedly serrated knife pressed to the throat of
       her attacker in a moment, pinning it—him—to the sand.
       “I'm so sorry, I thought you were a crocodile, please don't kill
       me, I’m sorry—” the dragon blabbered, squirming feebly.  He was
       a hybrid, clearly—dominantly RainWing, but with MudWing spines,
       tail, and scales.  His shimmery pale brown scales were covered
       in a lime green sheen.  Fear.  Pathetic.
       “Shut up!”  Hissed Barracuda, regretting not just killing him
       outright.  He was already getting on her nerves.  Now… well,
       nobody would miss a random hybrid, not with all the dragonet
       killing happening in the past three months.  But he was a
       dragonet, and he wasn't her target.  Just stop feeling things
       and kill him, he jeopardizes the mission, she growled
       internally, tightening her grip.
       The dragonet’s dark eyes widened in terror, and he started
       hyperventilating as the knife drew blood, cutting into his
       scales.  Sharp teeth on the blade slashed holes.  Barracuda told
       herself to cut through his throat, silver against red, slice all
       those fragile veins and muscles and other dragonish internal
       parts…
       But she couldn't do it.  Cursing, Barracuda threw down the
       knife, kicking herself for not being able to kill one measly,
       pathetic hybrid.
       The dragonet panted, talons going to the slice the knife had
       made.  “T-thank you for not killing me,” he whimpered.
       Don't thank me yet, the assassin thought darkly.  I still might.
       “You have to come with me now, I can't have you blabbing
       everywhere about me.”  My life is over, Barracuda realized in
       horror and dismay.  Some assassin you are.
       All I wanted to do was my job assassinating the targets.
       “Okay,” the hybrid said.
       Barracuda blinked.  “Uh, okay?”  She had expected him to put up
       some resistance, at least.
       “Y-yeah, aren't you one of the SeaWings of destiny?  Out to kill
       the evil MudWing queen??”
       Barracuda had never heard anything about any “SeaWings of
       destiny”, but she would let him keep his fantasies of it meant
       he was agreeable.
       “Oh… yes.  I'm one of those.”
       The hybrid leaped to his feet, dark eyes shining like stars.
       “You guys are my heroes,” he said breathlessly.  Getting a good
       look at him, Barracuda realized he wasn't actually a dragonet
       after all—he looked to be almost her age, in fact.  Wonderful.
       “Moons… I've always dreamed of meeting a SeaWing of destiny,” he
       said, hesitantly taking a few steps forward.  “You're even more
       beautiful than I thought you would be!”
       Barracuda felt distinctly awkward, a very rare feeling for her.
       She unconsciously tried to look taller and more noble—less like
       an assassin.
       Because if she looked like a magical prophesied SeaWing, that
       would make him follow her more mindlessly.  Of course that was
       it.  It wasn't at all that she loved having the hybrid stare at
       her so trustingly with his, um, super ugly dark eyes.
       What kind of assassin are you?!  Barracuda fumed at herself,
       wanting to shrivel up and die.
       But she had a job she needed to do, and she couldn't let the
       hybrid run off into the nearest town shouting every little
       detail about her.  “Are you going to help me stop the evil
       MudWing queen?” Barracuda asked the dragon, who nodded
       furiously.  “Okay then, let’s go.”  She took off into the air,
       flying above the water regretfully.
       It was dangerous in the sky, but what other choice did she have,
       with this mangy hybrid tagging after her?
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