Flame was still thinking about Buzzard's warning as he walked away from Treen's office. The RainWing had tried to convince him to stay and rest for a bit more, but the SkyWing couldn't help but feel nervous.

He didn't want to lay prone for any more time if he could avoid it.

"Someone tried to get me imprisoned by the Queen for something I didn't do... sounds awfully familiar," he thought, as he walked. "But I know it was someone who knew me and Rail's names. Someone who knew us well enough to report me with such confidence. That narrows the lists of suspects down."

He didn't know where he was heading, but he knew he wanted to talk to someone. Someone whose brain moved faster than their talons. The only dragon he was certain he could trust.

"Rail."

He weaved around a few healers, still clumsy from the sleeping dart, and tried to make his way to the place where all dragons seemed to gather: the dining hall.

It took him a bit to navigate the corridors of Summit Central, but he didn't want to ask for help. He was done with that. He needed answers.

Flame reached the dining hall, but soon realized it was early. Too early in the afternoon for anyone to be gathered. The hall was empty, except for some sleepy-looking SkyWings who were resting at a table and a MudWing who was cleaning a counter.

Before thinking too much about it, Flame spread his wings and, after a few attempts, he managed to take off, propelling himself to a small nook of stone on the wall opposite the entry. He was sure that from there, no one would be able to spot him unless he glided down.

And so, he waited. Like a predator stalking his prey, he waited. The hours that passed felt like minutes.

As evening approached, the hall filled with life as both patients and staff gathered to dine. Flame had to narrow his eyes to look through the bustling crowd, but he was sure the dragons he was looking for had now arrived.

Russet. Amber. Yellow. Indigo.

Flame thought about each of them. Before Summit Central, he would have leaped down immediately and demanded the answers he was looking for from them. But now, he was thinking instead. He couldn't help but feel like one of those three was behind it all.

"Ire hates me," Flame thought, looking at her as the bulky SkyWing headed to grab a large piece of meat from the counter, as other dragons moved out of her way. "But she doesn't seem like the sort of dragon to report me. She would have faced me head-on. And she wouldn't have been around in the morning. She works with the cable car, and couldn't have seen me or Rail leave." He clenched his talons. Even the dragon that seemed the most suspicious was, regretfully, innocent. For now.

Ardor bounced next to Ire, whispering something funny to her. Flame guessed it was funny, as he saw the bigger SkyWing do something with her snout that appeared to be laughing. "Ardor is Buzzard's daughter. She knows how the system works. She could have easily written a report, making sure her father found it. However, I'm missing a motive here. Why would she have wanted to frame me? And why place a report, instead of just telling Buzzard, or go after me with security herself?"

Placoid was alone, picking out some equally sad-looking food. The SeaWing seemed to be lost in his thoughts. "Placoid is... weird. We did talk, and I think we're on fine terms, but I know that he hides a darker story. Maybe he still holds a grudge against me. But would he have gone through it? Would he know how to place a report, as a transfer student? He's probably been too busy with studying to find out how. Or maybe... maybe he wouldn't believe other dragons would listen to him. Hm."

Flame also spotted Hurricane in the dining hall, her elegant pink scales standing out between all the darker SkyWing. She was busy arguing with another dragon, about who knows what. "Maybe Hurricane was behind this. She obviously knows about my condition but also cares about Rail. And she knows about placing reports since she's the one in charge of handling them. But if that was the case... why alert Buzzard at all? She could have just handled this herself. She's the Head Scribe, after all. And Rail said she's on the same level of power as Buzzard. She could have just ignored him if she wanted to."

Another idea dawned on him. "Maybe Buzzard was lying. Maybe he wrote that report himself. Maybe he made this whole story up to scare me into staying here, or else I'd be hunted down. That's also a possibility, even if highly twisted."

It was at this point that the SkyWing decided he'd had enough of waiting around. He knew his suspects, and now it was time to act... without alerting them of his so-called "investigation".

Flame pounced downwards from his stone nook. His wings allowed him to glide smoothly to the rock floor, where dragons moved out of the way for him to land.

And even after he tucked his wings back and started walking toward the table where his cave-mates had gathered, he couldn't ignore the glances he was being shot.

Looks of distrust. Blinks of bewildered. Glares of anger.

And even Rail shot him a smile that was different from the ones before. It felt forced. Almost as if they didn't want to smile at him at all.

"Oh... that was quite the entrance, Flame," Ardor said with toned-down excitement. Even she looked more taken aback than usual.

Ire growled under her breath, but she was too busy with her meal to say anything or give him any attention.

"I- we hope you're doing ok," Rail added, giving the SkyWing space to settle down next to them. Even as he sat down, Flame could feel stares singeing his back scales.

Placoid nodded at what Rail said but immediately looked away as the SkyWing tried to meet his glance.

"Something's wrong here. Something has... changed." Flame's thoughts were a spiral. Why did Rail seem so distant too?

Another scenario appeared in his head. "Maybe Rail reported me. They wanted a way to frame me, and went along with my plan - but not before sealing my doom. Maybe they're behind all of this. But..." something wasn't right with that idea. Something stung the more Flame thought of Rail possibly betraying him. Guilt. "They're my friend. They wouldn't do this to me. They wouldn't break my trust this way. I can't burn my first real friendship in years this way. But... but if it was him... that's the sort of betrayal I wouldn't let live."

"You alright?" Rail's voice echoed again, their talon reaching out to the SkyWing's as Flame blinked himself into reality. "You seem a bit spaced out."

"I'm all good," he replied, moving his talon away from the hybrid, who looked away from him.

A steady silence followed. The only noise that came from the table was Ire's munching.

"Ok, that's enough," Flame declared, outstretching his talons over the table. "What is happening here? What is going on with all of you?!"

Placoid gave him a look of what could only be described as fear, while Ardor tilted her head in distaste. Rail's expression was completely unreadable.

Then suddenly, a low-pitched squeal cut the air. And that squeal was Ire's laughter.

"Oh moons," she said, placing her meal down on the table as she wiped the sides of her mouth, "you can't be serious, right? What's wrong with us?"

Flame didn't like the way the SkyWing looked at him. Despite knowing that she couldn't have been guilty, she had a knowing expression that seemed to look right through him.

"We're not the ones that disappeared for a day," She said, taking a dangerous step toward Flame, as she walked around the table.

"We're not the ones who fought against the SkyWing royal guards. We're not the ones who think the dragons around us are just pebbles you can play around with." She was getting closer. And Flame couldn't move.

"Ire, that's enough," Rail breathed, but with little effort.

"We're not the ones who are convicted of murder," she was standing an arm's distance from him now.

"Ire stop it!" Ardor exclaimed, tugging on the SkyWing's membrane-less wing. But Ire just moved away and stood in front of Flame. Too close. But also, just close enough for Flame to see the raging fury of her eyes.

"We're not the ones who were supposed to be heroes," Ire's voice was a hiss now. A hiss similar to one he'd heard before. Viper. The SandWing was standing in front of him now.

It all came back to the same, horrible truth.

"Who were supposed to fight for and save the dragons that we loved, but who, obviously... failed."

Flame's saw Ire's face overlapping with Viper's. His mind was a tangle of webs, and every other noise or image was nonexistent.

He just saw Ire/Viper staring him down. And he felt his talons clutch.

But he also felt the ground underneath his claws. His tail brushed against the floor. His earring bumped against the side of his neck. He held on to that though. His anchor at this moment.

He wanted to raise his voice, his claws, his wings. He wanted to free himself from this anguish. He wanted the earring he was wearing to stop feeling like a reminder of who he was. He wanted Ire to feel the hurt he was feeling.

But he didn't do any of that.

Before he knew it, he wasn't in the dining hall anymore. His talons had chosen to run. And he wasn't being stared down anymore.

But they were still there.

A hundred pairs of eyes, of which four brighter than the others, staring through his thick, dark webs.

Staring through him.