The Chic in the Snow

He found the gryphon chick laying in the snow amid the greatest blizzard the Black Chain valley had ever seen. She was still awake when he found her despite the cold and the broken wing and when he leaned over her their eyes met for only a moment before she closed them. He took her in his arms and brought her to the lair and when they arrived he lit a fire with his flame and the dry wood he'd gathered before the blizzard and put her body so close against it her feathers almost ignited and still he was sure the frostbite would kill her. She was so cold and so stiff he had no idea how she had survived this long in the first place. He lay with her back pushed against his belly and hoped the flame in the cave and the one in his chest managed to warm her enough to survive. For a long time hoping was all he allowed himself to do. He made sure to never leave the flame unfed and soon he saw her feathers dry and soften and her limbs relax. He hummed his relief and when she twitched at the sound of his voice he knew she would live.

Elika arrived a few hours later with a deer on her shoulders and a giant hog in her claws. The season was hard that year and they had to hunt more often than usual. She saw him and the chick and the state of the chick and her eyes widened. "Who is she?" she asked.

"Don't know. Found her almost dead in the snow."

"Her hen?"

"Didn't see her," he said. "Didn't see anybody aside from her."

Elika got the deer off her back. She pushed it against the wall and then slit the hog's belly open. She pulled the guts out of the beast and threw them out of the lair, then ripped the hog in two halves and threw one at him. She started eating her half immediately while he kept his own to the side and watched her eat in silence for a few moments before he turned his gaze back to the hen. "I think she may be of the Greenrock flock," he said.

"She doesn't have the colors. Look at all the blue on the wing," Elika said. "Her feathers are poorly kept. No chick with a flock has feathers like that."

"Maybe her parents aren't skilled hunters."

"Maybe she doesn't have parents."

He looked at the gryphon chick and watched her breathe under the white light of the fire. There were things dancing in the flames and his dam had told him once that a skilled dragon could read into them to see the future, but he didn't remember how and all he saw were shapes and faces and eyes staring at him through the burning embers. There were other things too, not in the flames but in his head, in the dark, anywhere. Anywhere that was not the flame. He could not see them but he could feel them and that scared him, because he had not felt something like that ever in his life. "Let's keep her here for now," he said. "Let's keep her warm. When she wakes up she'll tell us herself."

Elika stood up. She pushed her snout against his chest and he stood up and moved out of the way. She wrapped herself around the chick and covered her with her wings, then started preening her as a hen would, her teeth picking up her feathers and straightening them one by one. She looked at him as if asking him if he wanted to join them, but he simply stared at her and from the look on his face she knew he wouldn't. He moved to the other side of the bonfire and waited for them to fall asleep, and once they were asleep he killed the fire and ate his half of the hog in silence. He stood up then, sat at the entrance of the cave and looked at the bottom of the valley. He didn't know why he did that. The night was moonless and black like the depths of the ocean. The darkness enveloped everything like a blanket, and even the eyes of a predator could only see so much of what was in front of him before they fell short of their duty.

When he woke up Elika was still asleep and the chick was weeping with her paws over her head in the darkest corner of the cave. Her sobs were so strong her whole body shook with each one. He knew that kind of crying well. He stood up and shook himself awake and made to walk up to her, but after the first step the chick noticed him and started screeching. "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," he said, but she did not stop. He backed off and lay down in hope of calming her but she went on undeterred until her cries woke Elika up. The dragoness blinked the sleep away and once again looked first at the chick and then at him and then back at the chick.

"What happened?" she said. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. I woke up and found her like that."

"Did she say something?"

"No. She keeps crying. I think she's scared of something."

"Scared of you," Elika said. She walked up to her and ignored the screams as she brought down her snout and nuzzled the chick's beak. The chick retracted her head and Elika retracted her own, and for a moment they both waited still before Elika lowered her head again to nuzzle the gryphon's neck instead. This time the chick did not fight and let the dragoness wrap a wing around her as she gently cried in the crook of her neck. The chick's cry soon waned, though it didn't end, and Elika looked up to him with a scolding gaze in her eyes. "You were never good with hatchlings," she said.

"It's not me she's afraid of."

"Who, then?"

"I don't know." He walked to the edge of the cave. The blizzard had quieted down through the night and though the wind still blew and the snow still fell incessant in the valley he could now see some traces of green and brown under the endless white. "I'm leaving. Do you think the deer will last you until I come back?"

"Most of it will go to her. She needs to eat something and I'm not hungry anyway. Are you going to the Greenrock Flock?"

He nodded.

"A waste of time," she said. "They know nothing of this."

"You can't be sure."

"I can, but I won't stop you if you want to go. Just be back before dusk."

"I'll be back before midday," he said. He spread his wings and made to take flight but stopped before his posterior legs left the ground. He turned back, saw Elika consoling the chick, patting her back and whispering sweet words she couldn't understand into her hears to calm her down. He went to her and nuzzled his muzzle against her own. She bit his neck in response. It was meant to be a playful bite and yet it still chipped two of his scales. When he tried to bit her back she jerked away and bit him from another side.

"Just go, you bloody lizard," she said. "You're going to scare her again."

He looked down. The chick leaned against Elika's belly and stared at him with a resigned look in her big green eyes and again he saw no fear or anxiety in them but only sadness and a hint of dread deeper than any emotion he might have caused her. He raised a hand and scratched her head right between her ears and despite the pain and the sadness she soon gave in and let out a soft purring noise. "She's not afraid of me," he said. He landed a nip on Elika's shoulder and she squeaked and laughed and insulted him again but she couldn't finish it before he walked out of the lair and jumped into the snow-infested air. She said something else, but he was too far away to hear it and he probably knew what it was anyway.

Greenrock was neither green nor similar in aspect to a simple rock. It was not only a mountain but the apotheosis of all mountains, both in looks and in essence, and it brimmed with the strength of the earth as much as the magma under it burned with the force of the flame. He did not blame the Greenrock Flock for being proud of owning it and he did not blame them for being protective of it. When he saw Curumia approach him from one side and another gryphon from the other he slowed down and let them lead him to a big tree who stood at the edge of a river. The tree was old and twisted with gnarled roots sprouting from the ground like half-buried dead corpses and yet had a beautiful foliage made of strong healthy leaves and beautiful red flowers he had never seen anywhere else. It was a good spot to stand under if you wanted to keep the snow off of yourself. He landed first right at its feet and Curumia did the same while the other gryphon landed a couple wings away, his little yellow eyes fixed on him.

"May the gods help us all," Curumia said with a smirk. "The great black one has returned. Will begging be enough for him to grant me his mercy, or will I have to offer my body for it?"

"Curumia." He bowed his head slightly. "It's been a while."

"Indeed it has. If I didn't know how solitary dragons tend to be, I'd be offended." Her smirk dropped into a soft smile. "It is nice to see you again though. I was thinking of visiting you at the Black Chain myself. How is Elika?"

"She's fine. Tired. Still angry with her mother."

"Does her clan still hate you?"

"Always."

"You should tell them your name," she said. "Or at least her mother. Old lizard would stop pestering you out of sheer disbelief."

"Why are you here?" said the other gryphon. He was sure he'd seen him before: green and red feathers of his wings and the yellow eyes were familiar but he couldn't pair them with a name. "Why did you not announce yourself?"

"I have important things to talk about and I'm not going to waste my time on ceremonies."

The gryphon spread his wings and hissed but Curumia waved her paw and he fell silent. "You don't need to waste anything," she said, "What is the problem?"

"I found a chick in the snow last night, right before the blizzard got bad. She was in bad conditions, almost dead from the cold. Do you happen to have lost a chick recently? A female, with blue feathers on the wings?"

"There is no chick in our flock with blue wings," Curumia said. "Maybe some of the coastal ones, but we speak with them so often we'd know if they had lost one of their own. How is she? Do you need help?"

"Maybe. She'll be fine as long she stays warm and eats well for a few days. But..." he paused. "This morning I woke up and I found her crying. We tried to calm her down, and Elika helped somewhat, but nothing seems to last."

"Something must be scaring her."

"I don't think so. She's not afraid, she's desperate. Few times have I seen an hatchling cry like that."

"Gryphon chicks aren't dragon hatchlings. You scaly bastards come out of the egg ready to brawl with the gods themselves. Gryphons need some time before you can throw them in the wild and expect them to come back alive."

"You know that's not what I mean. Remember the night of the Blood Sky?"

"Don't think I will ever forget about it."

"Me neither," he said. "I spent a long time watching over your brothers that night. She cries like they did, but I don't know why."

Curumia shook her head. She turned to the other gryphon and spoke to him in their language too fast for him to even try to understand. The gryphon threw one last venomous look at him and flew away without another word. She turned back toward him. "Bring me to her."

"Do you know what's wrong with her?"

"Probably not, but I want to see if I can help."

"Are you sure you can leave the flock right now?"

"There's nothing left for me to do today aside patrolling, and Liuvo can do that by himself," she said. "Let's see this chick at once."

They found Elika and the chick sitting at the edge of the cave, eating deer and watching the snow being carried away by the blowing winds. The chick's beak was still too soft to tear in the deer's carcass so Elika had cut some of the meat into pieces, both for her and herself. The moment they arrived Elika looked at Curumia and her eyebrows furrowed. "What are you doing here?" she said. "Does he think so little of my abilities as a mother that he brought you here to make sure I treat her properly?"

"He didn't bring me anywhere," Curumia said. "I came here of my own will."

"How nice of you. Let's hope you will leave by the same means."

Curumia laughed. "It's nice to see you too, Elika."

"Yes, yes. How long since we have last seen each other, cheers and celebrations, all of that." She licked the residue of blood and skin hanging from the chick's beak and the chick stayed still and let her. Once she was done she moved away to let Curumia inspect the chick. "Here, give her a look. See if you get some words out of her. She has not opened her beak once since she's stopped crying."

So she did. The young hen did not weep anymore but her eyes were still red and wide open and her body was tense. Curumia studied her in silence, careful not to get too close as the chick stared at her with the attentiveness of a falcon. She tried to say something in a language, then another, then yet another one. He had never heard her speak similar tongues before and neither had the chick because not once did she open her beak to answer. In the end Curumia shook her head and gave up. "She doesn't seem able to speak any of the common languages or dialects in this area," she said. "Are you sure she's not a mute?"

"We're not sure of anything."

Curumia scratched the chick's chin. She did not purr but she did not pull away either. "As far as I can tell there is nothing wrong with her," she said. "I could ask my grandmother to give her a look, but I don't see what she could notice that I have missed. Are you going to keep her?"

"We'll keep an eye out for her parents," Elika said. "If nobody comes forward I see no reason to send her away."

"You should move to Greenrock." Elika shot her a poisonous look and Curumia gave her an awkward smile. "I don't doubt you would raise her right, but gryphons are social creatures. Dragons may be happy to be raised alone but we need a flock to prosper. I'm sure playing with other chicks her age will do her good."

"Your elders won't let it happen. They never liked us."

"You let me worry about the elders. They're old birds, and like all old birds are stubborn, but there are more reasons to keep a pair of dragons close to you than there are to keep them away. It won't be the first time we speak about it, and now we have a good reason in favor of it."

Elika looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "We'll have to talk about it," he said.

"Do as you will," she said. She turned toward the entrance. "I'm going out hunting. Is it a problem if I remain in the area for a while? I haven't seen this part of the Black Chain in moons. I want to see what has changed."

"It's no trouble for us," Elika said. "You might as well eat here if you want. At least you'll go back to Greenrock with a full stomach."

"Suppose I'll have to hunt for three then."

"Nonsense," she said. "He'll help you. The only thing he's been able to hunt lately is little birds." She scratched the chick's head. "Some practice with an actually skilled hunter will do him good."

"I'm a skilled hunter," he said.

"Sure you are," Elika said. She did not sound very convinced.

By the time they left the blizzard had died out but animals were still hard to find. Forest critters tended to be smart animals and they knew better than venture outside their dens in a blizzard, so all he and Curumia managed to hunt were two skinny manticores and an old bear who was already almost dead when they found him. They ate one of the manticores where they were, then Curumia loaded the other manticore on her back while he loaded the bear on his. He was about to take flight when Curumia touched his arm. "Let's walk," she said.

"We'll be late," he said.

"We're not that far away from your lair. I'll tell Elika we had some trouble finding prey."

"We did have trouble with that."

"I'll tell her we had more," she said. "Come on."

They walked through the woods. As they moved a gentle breeze swept through the trunks of the pines and the oaks of the forest, carrying the scent of snow and rotten wood and the corpses on their backs. He liked walking well enough but running was better. Walking was slow and took more patience than he had. Running was fast and immediate and it was good for his muscles. Curumia did not like running though, and she walked slowly, so more than once he had to stop and slow down and wait for her. She did not seem offended, but he still felt bad about it.

"You never change," she said. "Always impatient, like a cock at his first rutting. You should try taking things slower sometimes. You'll feel better."

"I'm taking things slow," he said. "I think I'm doing a good enough job of it."

"If you say so," she said. She sounded as convinced as Elika was. "You know, I'm surprised Elika made you go hunting with me. I was sure she was going to claw my eyes out the moment I took a step in your lair."

"She'd never do that."

"She almost did the first time I met her," she said. "Though I was trying to do the same thing to her, so I suppose I have no right to judge."

"She never told me about anything like that."

"She wasn't supposed to," Curumia said. "It's a thing between females. It doesn't concern you."

It wasn't a good enough answer. "I already told her everything I had to tell," he said. "We mated once and that was it. There was never anything between us beyond physical attraction. She had no reason to be jealous."

Curumia laughed. "See, males always go back to that. It's always about mating for you, as if there were nothing else to fight for in a relationship."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"You did, but it doesn't matter."

He was about to ask her why when he realized no soft breeze blew anymore. He looked up and saw black gray clouds full of water right above them but the air was clear and empty and still as the air in an ancient tomb. It was still cold but it wasn't the same cold as before. This one he felt in his bones despite the scales and the flame in his chest and though he enjoyed the feeling of true chills running down his back - it had been so long since the last time - he did not understand how he could feel them in the first place. Dragons didn't feel that kind of cold unless they were sick, and he did not feel sick. He did not feel sick at all.

He stopped walking. Curumia stopped too. "What's wrong?" she said.

"You don't feel it?"

"What should I feel?"

"The cold."

"Of course I feel cold, it's winter. Everybody feels cold."

"Not like this," he said. "Not this kind of cold."

"Gods above," she said, "what in the nine hells are you talking about?"

He looked around. The world around him was as still as a painting and yet he felt watched, as if someone were standing right behind him despite the fact that he could not see or smell anybody but Curumia in his surroundings. The only thing in motion was a stream running a few steps to his left. He walked to it, let the bear fall from his back and then sunk his head and his neck in the river. He felt cold again now, normal cold against his scales and skin and flesh and muscle. The water ran over him and through him and he felt better now, better than how he'd ever felt since he'd found the chick laying in the snow. He felt guilty about admitting that, even to himself, and he wasn't even sure why. He was thirsty, so opened his mouth and drunk the water in great gulps and as he drunk the water went down his throat in the wrong way. He pulled his head out of the stream and coughed and coughed again until he was able to breath, but the breaths were ugly and hoarse and sent him into another fit of coughing. When he was able to breathe normally again he spat a globe of something wet and metallic in the river and it was only when he saw the red that he realized it was blood. There was a sound of steps behind him and he turned to see Curumia stand a hair's breath away from him with a confused expression on her face and worried eyes glaring at him.

"Are you alright?" she said.

"I'm fine," he said. Everything was back to normal now. Everything had gone back to normal the moment he had seen her and it had happened so fast he had forgotten why or how things had been not normal in the first place. "I'm fine now. Don't worry about it."