Our mating bonds are not of love. They are simply of strength. We can reserve our love for marriage. In the principle of offspring, we all have a duty to produce a stronger generation. This is not accomplished through compassion, but from sacrifice.

This is Our Law.

~From the Dragonling Grimoire

The next morning, my guards finally unlocked my windows and let me go hunt. I was starving. The "meal plan" at E'zastava was a simple affair. You can eat what you catch. There were cooks on hand, but you had to provide your own meat and pay a few lodes. I personally didn't find any use for the cooks.

Winter was slowly ending, with no snow covering the ground, but deer and elk wouldn't return until at least late spring. All of us were living on rodents and the occasional unfortunate fox or wolf when times got really bad.

I slowly circled above the forest, trying to discern any smells. Fox was the most prominent, but there was blood in the air that warned me someone else had gotten it first. Nothing else seemed promising - mouse and squirrel, both of which were likely hiding underground where I couldn't reach them, and a variety of birds that would hardly be a mouthful if I was fast enough to catch them.

Today was my day off, and I could hunt until the sun went down. After that, I would have to report back in. No dragonlings but pairs in their mating season were allowed out after dark, to avoid... embarrassing situations. Once I'd been locked out when I missed roll call and had to dodge lovestruck dragonlings all night. Or lust-struck. Either way, not something I ever wanted to repeat.

A screech of an owl brought my focus from my thoughts and back to the hunt. I didn't particularly like avian prey, but my stomach loudly rumbled to remind me I couldn't be picky.

Scanning the trees below, I spotted the tawny owl stretching its wings as it was getting ready to sleep for the day. It wasn't huge, but it was better than a tiny songbird. Folding my wings to my side and pointing my head downwards, I let gravity do the work for me and dropped like a stone. At the last second, I opened my wings to stop myself and my body reversed, my tail shooting out and impaling the owl. It screamed, but it turned into a gurgle a second later as it died from blood loss.

As I landed among the trees, I pulled the owl off my tail and bit into it. The meat was rather bland and feathers caught in my teeth, but food was food. It was gone in a few moments and I gazed around the hibernating forest, picking the feathers out of my fangs with a claw.

If it was spring, herbs and wild onions would be abundant. I couldn't live on greens, not for longer than a few weeks, but they went a long way to making the meat a lot more filling. Summer brought amaranth, wild grains, and nuts that tasted great with deer, and fall flushed the forest with fruits and vegetables. Just the thought of the beef stew that they made at Skhola made my mouth water.

Winter, however, sucked. The forests were mostly barren and, even if the cold moons here were mild, frost covered most of the ground. Fruits were practically nonexistent and I didn't feel like making my way to the compound's kitchens to pick up the dried vegetables. I probably could have eaten some pinecones or boil the needles into a tea, but I didn't feel like getting sap stuck under my claws.

I heard a stick break nearby and I shot to my paws with a snarl. A large black dragonling was nearby, a fox clenched in its jaws. I could tell from the scent it was a fyn. He growled at me through the fox's body, his tail raised over his head threateningly. We were at a stand-off, both of our wings raised in shows of dominance.

However, after a moment I could sense that this dragonling was older and stronger. Scars covered his body, showing that he was definitely more experienced in fighting than me. I slowly lowered my own wings and looked away. He gave a snort of acceptance, smoke curling from his nostils, and flapped his wings to gain height before taking off. I watched him leave, a twinge of regret tugging at my paws. Something made me want to join him. It was lonely hunting by myself.

But it was winter. There would be plenty of time for group hunting when spring rolled around and meat wasn't so scarce.

Pushing the dragonling out of my mind, I took off through the hole in the treetops he had made and began to wing my way towards the cliffs. If I was lucky, a cave bear would be waking up around this time. A jade-colored dragonling was flying nearby, but they noticed me and banked the other way to give me space to hunt. No sign of the black fyn.

The flight was short and soon I had landed on the cliffs. This began the first of my many mistakes. The second was that, in order to squeeze through the narrow cracks where animals were known to hide, I clamped my wings close to my side. The rocks scraped uncomfortably against my scales, but I wouldn't want to come face to face with an angry cave bear in my human form.

The third mistake was sniffing the air to see if I could smell any creatures. But instead of air and possible scents, I took a big whiff of age-old dust.

Obviously, I sneezed. The force caused me to slam my head into a stalagmite. I wish I could say I simply shook it off, but I didn't. I was knocked out cold.

When I came around, the chill in the air alerted me to the fact that I had slept clean through the entire day. Night creatures were stirring; owls were hooting, coyotes barking, bats were flitting among the trees. Damn. I was qlwo already too late to come back inside for the night.

You can do this. I scolded myself quietly as I took in the night-cloaked caves. It wasn't the first time either of those things had happened - my pay may be docked, so what? That'd be nothing new. As I was thinking that, my stomach growled loudly.

My fourth mistake was to go out and hunt instead of going straight home and hoping someone would let me in. A wyk's gotta eat, you know. My stomach was obviously not satisfied with the meager owl I'd fed it earlier.

The crack I was in was too narrow to turn around, so I was forced to back out in a most undignified manner. I was just thankful no one was here to see it. It was a slow and painful process, and my legs got tired halfway through, but soon I was out of the cave.

Night had fallen, with the two moons high in the sky. The dark moon was merely a crescent, but the bright moon was full. I had plenty of light to see by, though I could have found my way in the dark perfectly well if I needed to. The forest was quiet, but opossums raced over the ground on their way to scavenge scraps.

By hiding within a tree to make sure the moonlight didn't shine off my scales, I was able to catch a few of the rodents and quiet my stomach. At least for a little while. I contemplated sleeping around the tree but knew I'd be hungry again before long.

I uncoiled from around the tree and slowly began strolling across the ground. A cougar snarled at me when I drew too close to her den, but I could smell the rich milk-scent of kittens and didn't feel like killing her. Besides, the night was beautiful and there'd be more prey.

The moonlight bathed the world in a stunning silver and the rustling of creatures stirred something deep within me. I couldn't help myself from staying out even longer than I should. Returning to my bare little room with its blank walls just felt wrong.

Instead, I leaped back into the air and slowly began to fly. I subtly began to shift my wings in different ways, testing how they altered my flight. It was far more relaxing than some stupid meditation that the trainers always forced on me. Riding the warm updrafts, I spiraled closer to the Watercress border.

At this point, I lost count of all my mistakes.

The next few moments were a blur. One heartbeat I was lost in the peace of flying, the next I was spiraling to the ground, the sharp sting of fangs in my left wing.

But the pain was drowned out by a sudden feeling of pure elation flooding my body. The dragon who had attacked me suddenly caught me in their - his, it had to be a fyn - claws before I hit the forest floor, his wings flapping rapidly so we didn't crash. Well, crash hard. We still slammed down against each other, but the euphoric feeling of being in contact with this fyn dulled the pain.

I felt utterly stunned - it was the black fyn from earlier. His paws held my wings down easily, like his muscles were made of steel, and he stared down curiously. I couldn't help but watch him back, both wary and interested.

What a strange change in scenarios. Earlier, the two of us had almost come to blows over some food. I somewhat expected the fyn to attack me again.

But this time, instead of a dragonling baring fangs to defend his prey, I was met with a gentle nudge and a lick on the nose. I felt utterly breathless just staring up at him. A strange change in scenarios indeed.

A mate spark couldn't be explained by our teachers - they would probably be too embarrassed to try and we had better things to learn than the birds and the bees - but that feeling... it was almost as good as shifting. There was no doubt that was a mate spark.

For probably the first time in my life, I felt uncertainty boil up within my chest. Ever since I could remember, my path was clear. I would be the one to take my mother's place in the contract, the one to be raised a killer, to one who needed to be the best. Every step was laid out for me, every moment planned.

But fyns had the choice on whether or not they could accept their mate. Despite the opinions about the natural mating system that I've had my entire life, I knew deep inside that I would be devastated if this fyn rejected me.

Nothing like having your life completely turned upside-down to ruin your night.

I felt rooted to the ground as if literal roots of the nearby trees had come out of the ground and wrapped themselves around me. It wasn't until the third push that I realized he was trying to get me to my paws. With a newfound sense of compliance, I meekly got up and rubbed my cheek against his neck.

With an odd chirp sound, the fyn nipped the edge of my wing and leaped . I stared at him, completely lost. What a strange thing to do...

It hit me after a heartbeat. A couple of dragonlings back at Skhola used to raise hounds from overseas. Occasionally they'd start acting like foolish puppies, nipping and jumping around...

Oh. That's what he wanted me to do. Oh.

I hesitated for half a heartbeat before I sprang after the fyn, lightly biting his shoulder before bounding away. He gave me a playful chirp before chasing after my tail. I couldn't help but notice that we were acting like draggies, but the rational part of my mind quickly shut down when the fyn's strong body brushed roughly across mine.

With a sharp nudge to his foreleg, I bounded ahead and led the fyn deep into the forest, and there we spent the night enjoying each other.

Birdsong tinkled through the trees when I woke up, the strong sunlight warming my scales alerting me to the fact that it was morning and I'd probably slept straight through my morning roll call. Oh well. I shifted around until I was comfortable and slowly drifted off again. It's not like they like me anyways. So what if I miss another patrol?

My tail flicked, as if sensing danger, and I slowly blinked open my eyes. The sun had grown stronger as I slept, making reflecting off my scales like a jewel and casting blue specks of light across the clearing. Mortification raced through me as I realized what had woken me.

An entire patrol of dragonlings was staring down at me, their expressions ranging from disgust to amusement. A stately dark green wyk stepped closer to me before turning to the others. "Go on, the lot of you. I'll take care of her."

Another wyk, who couldn't have been much older than me, with chocolate-colored scales shook her head and strutted over, her tail poised above her head. "Isn't this the one that Dmitri sent off? She wasn't supposed to be out last night anyway." A couple of the dragonlings behind her shared amused glances, a few even laughing softly, but the older ones watched with impassive faces. Somehow their silent judgment was worse than the snickers.

"If she's breaking rules, shouldn't we report her?" The chocolate-colored wyk pressed, glancing at what I assumed was the leader of the patrol, the dark green wyk who'd spoken earlier.

"He let me out yesterday, not that it's any of your business," I growled, heaving myself to my paws. It felt like every single one of my muscles were bruised up under my scales, but I bit back the groan of pain. These dragonlings were all older than me and I refused to look like a fool. "I'm not breaking any rules. I was out with my... mate last night." The word mate felt strange on my tongue.

The same wyk sneered at me, curling her lip to show her fangs. I was quick to flash mine back. The older wyk pushed her way between us. "Mary, go. Now." Her words were a few degrees colder than freezing. The other wyk, Mary, practically wilted away, turning tail and retreating to the others. She sent me a sharp glare when the wyk's back was turned.

What did I do now? I thought to myself sourly, returning her glare with a steady gaze while the others in the patrol began to take flight. I knew I had a knack for pissing dragonlings off, but I didn't even do anything this time.

After they took off, the green wyk turned back to me. "I'm Alma, dear. I'm in charge of the sixth brigade. You're Anita, correct? In Kulya's brigade." I winced. Of course she knew my name. After the show the other night, I doubted anyone in the entire outpost didn't know who I was.

"Yes." I nodded sheepishly, laying down on a rare patch of grass poking through the frost. Something was nagging at me, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Alma laughed lightly. It wasn't the malicious laughter I was used to, but warm and motherly. It was... nice. Unexpected from a Ryn, one who'd obviously seen her fair share of battles. "Looks like you had a rough night. Is it your first mating season? I can tell. Well, you won't be able to shift until you're out of mates. Since this is your first, I'm assuming you only have one? So only one week."

The stream of information came way too fast for me to comprehend. Alma was staring at me expectantly, as if waiting for a reply to that ridiculous amount of details about a rather private part of a wyk's life.

I oh-so-gracefully said the first thing that came into my mind. "Did you say a week? Like, a whole week?" Then I immediately tried to shift and found, true to Alma's word, I was prevented from doing so. It was like running directly into a stone wall where a hallway always was - disturbing and painful.

Alma saw what must have been the incredulous look on my face and laughed again. "Yes, an entire week. To ensure the eggs wouldn't be harmed."

I nearly gagged when I heard that word. Eggs. Sure, I knew dragonlings were hatched from eggs and raised as a hatchling until our first few sun cycles, but it never really hit me that those eggs came from somewhere. I always pushed it out of my mind, always thought I wouldn't have to worry about it.

"Anyways," Alma continued, apparently oblivious to my inner turmoil, "do you have any questions?"

I stared at Alma in utter shock, not quite able to form words. "Well?" She prompted me gently.

"Why was that wyk so rude?" I blurted out, not quite sure what else to say.

Alma looked surprised, but snorted softly, a wisp of smoke curling from her snout. "Oh, her. Mary is trying to show off and climb up in the rankings. Ignore her and any other dragonling that acts like that." She sighed, shaking her head. "I remember when we used to all get along and work together... oh, I'm rambling again. I'll leave you alone. It wouldn't be the best idea if your mate happened to catch you with someone else." With that, she took off into the sky and left me alone.

There was something about her words that bothered me, but I shook it off and took to creating a real nest from the dried leaves and pine nettles laying around me. It wasn't ideal at all - I'd have preferred a nice, soft bed or at least springtime clovers and moss to sleep on - but it was all I had for now. Maybe when my mate got back he'd bring me to his room-

The problem that had been nibbling at the back of my mind like a rat suddenly came to light.

My mate should have stayed with me until I woke up, maybe longer. He shouldn't have randomly disappeared in the middle of the night. There was absolutely no doubt that the black fyn was my mate.

And he abandoned me.