A week after Drought reminded Fennec of his place, he dumped at sack at his middle son's feet. It hit with a damp thud that had Fennec concerned about the contents.

"No one can know how weak you were. Quit making messes for me to clean up." Drought said vaguely before leaving. 

Fennec opened the bag and fought back a cry. There was a severed, bloody claw in the bag, and the scale color on it matched Henna's exactly. He didn't want to know what had happened to the rest of his friend, or if this was all that was left. There was still a chance, he hoped in some small part of him. There was a still a chance she could be alive. 

He decided he didn't want to know the answer to if she was. It was better not to know. He knew, deep down, the likelihood of Drought ever leaving someone alive. 

Fennec stopped talking after that. 

It wasn't as difficult as he thought it would be. He barely spoke in the first place. Cutting out the few words he did say was surprisingly easy, although it annoyed Prickle to no end.

"You're being stupid," Prickle declared, trying to poke and prod his brother into talking one day when they were hanging out with Sirocco and Rattlesnake. "One dead dragon and all of a sudden you're deaf. It's like you've gone as soft as Coal."

"Mute," Rattlesnake corrected.

"What?" Prickle raised an eyebrow.

"Fennec isn't deaf. He can hear us just fine. But if you don't or can't talk, then you're mute, not deaf." Prickle scoffed.

"Whatever. Same thing. SO SORRY not all of us got a fancy education like you did." Rattlesnake rolled her eyes.

"I would say it's stupid too," Sircocco said. "But honestly, he wasn't much of a talker to begin with so I can't say I've noticed a difference."

"He's right here, you know," Rattlesnake reminded them. "Just because Fennec isn't talking to us doesn't mean you get to talk about him like he's not here."

"Well how do you have a conversation with a mute dragon then? Are we supposed to get him some freakin' paper and wait for him to write a reply?" 

"You're impossible AND stupid," Rattlesnake declared. She turned to Fennec and smiled at him. "I'm sorry for their low intelligence. Are you doing okay?" Fennec nodded slowly and Rattlesnake smiled wider. "That's good. I know you don't want to talk right now, but if you ever change your mind and want to talk about stuff, I'm here to listen." Fennec offered her a smile and Prickle shifted uncomfortably.

"Alright, alright, we get it," He said defensively. "That's enough of that."

"We were just having a conversation, Prickle," Rattlesnake insisted.

"Well it's too weird of a conversation for me, c'mon, let's go." He grabbed Rattlesnake and practically dragged her out of the room. Sirocco made a face.

"I don't get how she likes that guy," He muttered. Fennec shrugged. He didn't quite understand it either. Prickle treated Rattlesnake like dirt and she ate it up. They all knew she could do a lot better, but Drought approved of the relationship, saying it would tie the Sting closer with Vulture's gang if they got married, so no one bothered to try and break them up. It wasn't worth the beating you'd get from Prickle anyways. Fennec had tried once to ask him to be nicer to Rattlesnake, as she was always so nice to them. Prickle had practically ripped his head off at the suggestion. He was very overprotective of his girlfriend, but Rattlesnake seemed happy with him, so Fennec hadn't intervened with it anymore. It wasn't his business anyways, so why should he bother to fix what wasn't broken?

Not that he could fix anything, anyways. Every time Fennec tried to do good with something, he found that it usually came back to bite him.

*****

Little changed at the Sting Headquarters over the next few years. Fennec stayed quiet, to Prickle and occasionally Drought's annoyance. Coal continued to get the shit kicked out of him, but he stopped coming to Fennec for help about it. He was learning to lie low, Fennec thought, and it was a good skill to have. Prickle got better at fighting and continued to have a rough edged relationship with Rattlesnake, who adored him like he was the most perfect dragon in the world, instead of the self centered ass he was at heart.

Fennec stopped venturing out of the Headquarters. There stopped being a reason for him to leave. He didn't go to the fights under the bridge, he didn't have any friends outside the gangs (he had run into Ozark and Specks one day, and Ozark's hard glare had told him all he needed to know about what they knew about Henna); he had no reason to leave the walls he was familiar with. It wasn't unusual either. Coal never left, although he suspected that was because Drought thought he would just run away and never return. Fennec doubted that would happen. He'd never run away, so why would Coal? All they knew was the Scorpion Den, and even most of the Den was still unknown to them. The other Kingdoms of Pyrrhia sounded worlds away, and Fennec thought it was a waste of time to think about exploring them. He had been born into a gang, and they were meant to stay in it. That was the only fate the world presented him with, and so it was the only one he really thought about.

But there were some aspects of the gang life that Fennec just couldn't bring himself to conform to.

He was walking with Prickle one afternoon, and they watched as Coal was flung into the hallway, scratched to ribbons and bleeding as usual. He didn't make a sound, although his eyes were watery. Drought stepped out into the hall after him with a cool ease, and he locked eyes with his other sons as he stood above Coal's small form, feet pressed into the youngest dragon's wing.

No one said anything. Prickle and Fennec stared, one in silent approval, the other in quiet, hidden horror. Drought kicked at Coal, pointing him back towards the room he had just been thrown out of, and Coal crawled back into it, wincing with every movement. Drought followed him and slammed the door shut, leaving Prickle and Fennec standing in the hallway.

Prickle kept walking, but Fennec stayed still, realizing as his breath came back to him that he had held it for the entire encounter. 

That night they went to the kitchens for a late night snack; or, more accurately, Prickle was hungry, and Fennec went with him because he had nothing better to do, and if he didn't then Prickle would get mad cause he'd have nobody to talk at. But when they entered the dark room, they saw Coal sitting on the ground, picking at a bit of food in the silence. His eyes widened upon spotting them.

One of the things Fennec had noticed about not talking was that he noticed a great deal more. Little details about dragons that he had never seen before, small tics and shifts that went undiscovered to most. The thing Fennec noticed about Coal, sitting innocently on the floor with barely healed wounds, was his eyes. Coal had always had bright eyes, like a great deal of dragonets, but there was always a time when that little light died. And since Coal was a dragon who had been getting regularly abused since he was newly hatched, Fennec had expected that light of innocence to die quickly. But it hadn't. It stayed shining year after year, a tiny glimmer of hope that Fennec didn't understand. There was no hope in this world. Didn't Coal, of all dragons, understand that?

Prickle marched over to their youngest brother, slapping the food out of his grasp and then slapping Coal himself. Fennec stared at Prickle, concerned.

"Father beat him earlier," Prickle explained. "Therefore he did something wrong. Dragons in the wrong don't deserve to eat, and therefore he's in the wrong again, and deserves to be beaten again." He shoved Coal onto the floor and stepped on him to walk over to the food. "Lucky for you, Coal, I'm hungry, and not really in a beating sort of mood." He grabbed something to eat and walked back, making a point to step on Coal again as he did so. "But don't think I'm not going to tell Father about this tomorrow."

Prickle headed out and Coal looked up at Fennec, as if expecting him to kick him down again. Fennec nodded, just once, and Coal nodded back slowly. And then Fennec left.

There was never much that had to be said between them.

****

The next day, Fennec crossed Coal's path again, and Coal winced at the mere sight of him. Fennec stopped and raised an eyebrow, confused at the reaction.

"Prickle hit me earlier," Coal said. "And Father before that. I just thought..." Fennec stared at him, trying to silently question why he thought today would be the day Fennec would strike him for the first time. Coal stared at him back, hesitating, then finally asking. "Why don't you hit me like they do?"Fennec paused. He didn't have a way to silently answer that question. Deep down, he wasn't even quite sure if the reason he didn't hurt Coal was the real reason, or just one he had invented to give it an explanation. He glanced around the hallway, making sure no one was around to overhear. And then he broke his no talking streak of nearly three years, because Coal had to know. He deserved that bit of kindness.

"Why would I?" He asked in return, and Coal paused. "You're my brother, and besides, I always thought you got beat enough by Father and Prickle. You didn't need me to add to it and I didn't want to add to it."

"That's it?" Coal questioned. Fennec hesitated.

"You were Mother's favorite," He said quietly. "She loved you more than any of us. All I wanted was for her to talk about me the way she did about you, but she's gone now. Us and Prickle are all we've got left of her, but you were the only one she really cared about. Why would I hurt the dragon she loved?" Coal stared, looking half destroyed by the response, and Fennec took his shock as a moment to escape. He left his brother staring there, and fled as quickly as he could without running. 

But it was true. He loved Ferla, and it stung like hell that she had cast him aside just like everyone else. But why would he hurt the dragonet she loved? How could he? How could he hurt anything that didn't deserve it, when he knew exactly how it felt?