Panic envelopes me and my heart stampedes. How unlucky am I that the first Dragon nest I discover on the Northern Continent belongs to a Redaga?! I never even considered the possibility of running into one!!

“Whoa there,” I say, fumbling another step back. I should at least try appealing to reason. “Let’s not get started on the wrong foot. Can you understand me?”

The Redaga twists its head and blinks. It gruffs something under its breath, ambling forward a few paces to stretch and scream a defiant roar.

ROOOARRGHH!!

I flinch, surprised at just how loud another Dragon can be. Its aggression makes it all but certain that it couldn’t understand a word I said and is instead quite upset that I interrupted its nap.

Damn it, this is bad! If I were well-rested, I think I could defend myself from the Redaga. It seems our understanding of how small these Dragons are is correct, as it appears to be three-quarters my size. Additionally, it lacks the large foretalons that I possess and instead ambles around using its wings for balance against the ground.

But I’m not well-rested — I’m exhausted. And, much like hunting, I have no idea how to fight in this body. I was able to defend myself back in the hollow, but a Marten with a sword is no comparison to a full-grown Dragon with scales for armor. And if it possesses fangs like my own, then all it would take is one miscalculation to give me a serious injury. If that happens, I’m good as dead.

Before I can think of what to do next the Redaga charges forward with fangs bared! It snaps its jaws at my left shoulder, barely missing the tips of feathers as I lunge to the side to avoid the attack. I quickly turn about and face my enemy with a fearsome snarl.

The Redaga hesitates, if only for a heartbeat before it lowers its head and begins pacing around me. I may not be trained in how to fight, but I do still have the self-defense training given to me by Calypso. The Redaga is clever; I know from his training that it’s looking for an opening, waiting for the right moment to come at me when I’m off-balance. I begin circling in kind, making sure my body is facing the same direction as the scaled drake.

Of course, Calypso only trained me in defense strategies that would bide my time. The assumption was I would only have to defend myself long enough for someone from my security entourage to come and save me. That’s never going to happen out here.

Quite frankly, I have no desire to fight a Redaga, ever. Certainly, not right now. If I can make my way back to the field where I entered the forest and take off, would the Redaga take flight and chase after me?

I snarl another warning and the Redaga flinches, taking a sudden step backward.

Yes… It’s scared of me. It knows how much bigger and more dangerous I am. Based on what I know of feral behavior, if I retreat, it won’t try to follow me. I exaggerate a sniff to bluff a threat, masking its real purpose of drawing in the scents under the tree. If I can get a fix on those flowers I smelled when I landed, I’ll be able to follow it back to—

My thoughts are tripped up — literally, by a buried log I couldn’t see — causing me to stumble forward. The Redaga seizes my blunder and rushes forward with incredible speed, its jaws outstretched to attack! Lacking any control with my talons I pump my wings as a last resort to push myself out of the way, but it’s not quite enough as the Redaga manages to extend its wing claws far enough out to cut open my right leg.

I yelp, tumbling clumsily onto the ground. When I feel the moon beneath my talons again I thrust myself off my haunches and twist to get back upright. The Redaga lurches forward again but quickly pulls back, realizing its opportunity to capitalize had already passed.

I bare teeth and hiss in pain, reeling from the force of the impact. Blood runs over my feathers from the cut, which doesn’t feel deep, but it hurts all the same! The Redaga stares at the wound with wide eyes, seemingly distracted by something about it. I stifle the urge to look around and see what’s so interesting about my leg, knowing to do so would open me up to another attack. It’s a moot point anyway because I was able to relocate the scent of the dreamy flowers from the field. Time for a dignified retreat!

I turn about and take off running, letting the scents guide me in a direction away from where I entered the area below the tree, around the twisting roots of the elderus, and to the opposite side. The Redaga screeches and gives chase, but doesn’t seem to be able to run as fast as I can. Unwilling to give them an advantage I plunge through an oversized thicket and into the forest.

Angry roars echo like thunder against the sounds of talons running through dried autumn foliage. Exhaustion quickly settles in and slows my escape to a brisk jog. After a few panicked moments, it seems I’ve put enough distance between myself and the Redaga that I can slow down a little. The forest here is dense with felled trees the size of buildings and thickets that are as tall as me. The botanist in me sees families and genera unknown to science, exactly the type of exotic flora I expected to find here. But I’m far too scared, far too exhausted to give it any more than a passing thought.

Eventually, the sounds of the Redaga fade and cease entirely. I check the scents every few moments to make sure it’s not creeping up from behind for a surprise attack, but can only make out the muffled smells of the forest and the dreamy flowers blowing through the trees. After a while, the floral scent grows stronger, and the canopy begins to thin. I slow to a more gingerly trot, trying to preserve my energy for the flight ahead. I’ll have to fly deeper into the continent from here until I pick up the scent of more Lithans.

Through the trees ahead I begin to make out pale sky. Breathing a sigh of relief, I walk around the last tree and push myself through some low-growing trees to a grassy clearing on the other side.

ROOAARGGH!!

Panic flares in my heart seeing the Redaga standing square in the vast clearing, its neck held low and its wings splayed, roaring a sinister threat.

It was waiting for me?! How…?! How could this be?!

I’ve severely miscalculated the resolve of this Dragon. Not only did it predict where I would go, but it must also have figured out a way to get into the sky from the forest. There’s no other explanation for how it could have made it here faster than I could run. If that wasn’t confounding enough, it found some way to mask its scent so I couldn’t smell it in the breeze while I was approaching the clearing. I thought I was escaping, but instead, I was running straight into a trap!

I don’t know what it sees in me — my inexperience or my exhaustion — but it knows I’m weak. It knows I’m an easy kill. If I take off now and try to flee, it’ll simply fly after me until I’m forced to land from exhaustion. Then it will confront there and my death will be assured.

There’s no other choice, I have to fight the Redaga here!! I curl my talons into the grass and issue a response to its challenge.

SKEEEEECH!!!

Once more I let go of the rational part of myself, allowing my instincts to control my actions. The predator in me is tired of being abated, frustrated with running away. It sees the Redaga as a lesser feral, a witless beast that is meant to be culled by a superior Dragon like myself. It demands blood.

I thrust forward, pouncing at the Redaga with my foretalons aimed for its neck. Anticipating my strike It quickly dodges to my left, snapping jaws towards my shoulder but coming up short. Taking a vital moment to reposition its wings for its next attack gives me another opening to slash at the Redaga. I aim for the wings, hoping to hinder its mobility, but it aptly pulls back once more. I continue trading swings at the Redaga, each time missing as the drake dodges, never making any attempts of its own to counter-attack. After the 4th failed blow I desist, forced to stop from over-exerting myself.

Rationality interrupts my instincts as the Redaga’s face turns coy. Staring down the pied dragon with labored breaths, I understand its strategy: It’s leading me on, allowing me to flail about and make attacks it knows it can dodge. I might be bigger and more powerful than the Redaga, but its smaller size makes it more nimble, and more easily able to predict my moves and avoid them. It knows I’ll eventually tire and that’s when it will start to fight back.

Damn it. I can’t attack the Redaga head-on, I’m far too exhausted and it’s far too quick. How am I going to win this fight? Isn’t there anything else at my disposal I can use? My thoughts quickly arrive back at yesterday: Owens Island, and the towering inferno of flame and smoke.

I could use my fire against it.

I haven’t dared risk trying it since yesterday for fear of causing another catastrophe. But if the alternative is to die here at the fangs of some ignominious beast then I will happily take the risk of more environmental destruction.

The Redaga is quick, so I’m going to have to act just as quickly using it. Watching my movements carefully, the Redaga’s eyes follow me as I pace around with my head held high. I feign dismay, acting like I’m out of ideas on what to do next. I want it to put its guard down and shift into an offensive stance. At that moment when it thinks it has the upper hand, that is when I’ll use my fire.

The Redaga snarls, trying to goad me into another fruitless attack. I answer back with a low grumble, and the Redaga’s tail begins lashing against the grass behind it. I see its haunches tense for another thrust towards me.

Now’s the time!

I twitch my neck back, tickling the fire-producing nerve in the back of my throat and expelling smoke from my nose. The Redaga goes bug-eyed and shrieks, guessing correctly what it is I’m about to do. It tries to rear back and flee, but it’s too late! I snap my neck forward, letting my maw fling wide open.

Nothing happens.

I tickle the muscle again, but only a minuscule puff of smoke leaves my mouth.

The Redaga chortles with glee, lifting its head out from the cover of a wing. I nearly trip recoiling backward to the trees, panic swelling in my chest. What happened to my fire breath?! It worked so well yesterday when I nearly burnt down Owens Island, why can’t I produce even a spark now?!

There’s no time to assess what went wrong. The Redaga senses my panic and capitalizes, launching itself headlong towards me with a piercing shriek. I try to evade but the drake's seen me dodge enough times to anticipate it, dragging a wing claw against the ground to cause its body to rotate sideways. Its long tail flings around from the back like a whip and strikes the side of the head.

Thick pain shrouds my head as my neck careens backward. I’m too hurt to react, too disoriented to notice the back of my head colliding ingloriously into the side of a tree trunk.

THWUMP!

The force of the trunk splits my head and I collapse to the ground, rapidly losing awareness and feeling. In my wrenching stupor, I see the Redaga standing tall a short distance from me, its face filled with depraved joy.

Beyond its shoulder, there’s… something else, now? I plead with my body to move but my thoughts are turning cloudy, and my muscles seize. The Redaga bears down with jaws wide as my consciousness falls into the arms of darkness.