The air made Griffon cough as he breathed in and it sucked the moisture from his throat. The dirt under their feet crunched as they walked and dust swirled around them in eddies as the wind kicked up. It got inside their ears and up their noses despite the thin covering of fabric they wore specifically to keep it out.

Griffon pulled the handkerchief tighter over his mouth and nose, then waved the party forward. Behind him, if he squinted, he'd see the tassels of the marker they'd placed in order to find their way back to the caravan.

Rock outcroppings jutted from the ground every few hundred yards like giant teeth. Eventually they got smaller, then petered out completely at the edge of a long-dried lakebed. The deserted earth would stretch on for the next hundred miles. Animals prowled for bites of food and men often perished from exposure out here, but hopefully they'd catch the animals first.

A man with coal-black skin and dusky gray wings leaned heavily on his sheathed weapon. "You know, I'm just glad there aren't any animals out here like the ones at home." He wiped a few beads of sweat off his forehead. "I'll never get used to this heat, though. Caleb, how are you handling yourself?"

"Fine," replied the boy. He was around Armand's age, and he sported a pair of wings that looked like a hawk's. Unkempt hair and wide eyes made him look entirely too much like a child."This stuff is heavy." He heaved the pack hung over his shoulder and adjusted the weight to compensate. "Why don't we just fly everywhere? We do have wings."

Gabriel stopped and put a hand on Caleb's shoulder. He reached inside Caleb's pack and fished around a little. "It's too windy and it's too hot. We'd all die from exposure or get blown off course. Tava, can you help him with some of the weight? We shouldn't be making the kid play pack mule." Gabriel's voice sounded muffled from the square of red cloth covering his mouth.

"He just got done telling us how tough he was after he spooked at that frill-lizard. Make him carry his own stuff," Griffon said before Tava could respond, but his eyes crinkled over the border of his mask. 

"Killjoy," Gabriel muttered under his breath. He tossed the second canteen at Griffon, who caught it, then tucked it into his own bag. Griffon scanned the horizon. There were birds circling something overhead. The sounds of jackals squabbling carried on the wind even though he couldn't see them yet.

"I can't see what they're after. Gabriel, scout ahead," Griffon ordered. He pointed in the direction of the birds.

Gabriel shrugged. "If you think we're close enough."

"I think they'll spook if they see us and you're the one that's bright orange."

"Fair enough," Gabriel sighed. He nodded and kicked off into the sky. His body made a few lazy loops in the air currents before he took off in the general direction of the buzzards. 

Griffon unbuckled his sword from his belt and laid it down. He unscrewed his canteen and it released with a 'pop'. He tipped the welcome liquid into his mouth. It tasted like grit but in this heat it still cooled the burn that settled in the back of his throat. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He scanned his surroundings for a few moments, then nodded.

"I think we're okay to rest until he comes back," he declared. He leaned back, using his wings for support. The marred skin on his left side protested as he did so, and he shifted to find a position where it would stretch the least.

"I'm so hungry," Tava said as he rubbed his stomach. "I could eat an entire grass-lion."

"Stop making things up," said Caleb. "I've never heard of a lion made out of grass." He wrinkled his eyebrows and made a face at Tava, who broke into laughter. It was a deep, rich sound that filled the air around him. He took another swig from his canteen.

"A grass-lion isn't made of grass. It eats grass. And people sometimes. Just not as often." Tava folded his arms and grinned at Caleb like he'd just imparted a very important life lesson.

"Yeah, okay. Lions don't eat grass, either."

"All right, maybe I made that part up."

Griffon let out a little bit of a chuckle but didn't join in the conversation. He scanned the horizon looking for Gabriel to return. He hoped that he wouldn't be delayed that long. Last week they'd nearly lost someone coming back too late from the party. It turned out they'd been caught up by raiders. He escaped, but barely.The thought made Griffon uncomfortable.

"Typical," Caleb said. 

"Like you're any better," Tava replied. "Where's that girlfriend you keep telling us about?"

Griffon shook his head. "No harm in a little storytelling." He wouldn't get involved in these types of games but he'd do the best to stop them if he could. They never ended well for anyone, because sooner or later someone always got offended.

"Like you would know," Caleb responded as he pushed a hand through his shaggy black hair. "I've never seen you with anyone, Griffon. What gives?"

Griffon stiffened imperceptibly and his attention immediately went to the skin on his abdomen and left arm. It crackled and pulled taut across his chest. He rubbed at it to try to get it to stop. "Why don't we pay attention to the sky in case Gabriel comes back?" he said.

"You jealous of the boy?" Tava asked. His grin grew and he ribbed Griffon in the shoulder. Griffon flinched hard and put a few extra inches between them. He clenched a section of his shirt in his hand and thought he might be sick. He remembered a healer grating his open wounds with a scrub brush and shuddered.

Griffon took a few deep breaths and waited for his heart rate to slow down, a process that felt like ages but was probably only a second or two. "Don't touch me," he said.

"Are you all right? I didn't mean anything by it--"

"Here he comes," Griffon said as he rose to his feet. Gabriel barreled toward them like a firecracker out of a cannon. His feet almost flew out from under him he landed so hard. He turned wide eyes toward Griffon.

"We need to get out of here. Right now."

"Why, what did you see?" Griffon asked.

A gasp came from behind them and Griffon whipped around just in time to see the ground swallow Caleb's foot up to the shin. Tava grabbed his arms and gripped them hard.

"We need to go, now! There are more of them!" Gabriel shouted as he took off into the air. Tava beat his wings and Caleb's leg released from the ground with a sick, sucking sound. Bits of flesh hung from his kneecap. Below it a white, glistening shinbone waved as Caleb screamed and blood puddled onto the ground. The leg scarcely looked like a leg anymore. Tava grabbed hold of the boy in his arms and took off into the air. Griffon followed behind.

"There was an entire pack of them eating something, looked like it'd been dead a couple days. They almost grabbed me too," Gabriel explained as they flew. The ground rushed underneath them so fast that Griffon worried they wouldn't find a place to land before Tava got tired and had to drop Caleb. By the time they got back to camp the digger venom would have eaten another quarter of the boy's leg. If he got lucky, they'd be able to remove the offending limb before it killed him. Most people didn't get lucky.

From this vantage point he could see the digger tracks ended a little further from where they'd originally set off, and continued for several miles past where they'd stopped. They were lucky there was only one victim. He grimaced. There was no way they'd be able to fly all the way back with cargo. It was questionable whether they'd even be able to do it without.

"Let down here." Griffon pointed to a large rock formation a little ways off. He flew down, landed softly on top of it, and began unpacking things from his shoulder bag. Tava landed next to him and rested Caleb's body on the ground. The boy let out an agonized moan and writhed on the ground.

"Don't touch it," Griffon said. "Sit up. We need to keep it from spreading. Take this and bite down, it's going to hurt. Tava, Gabriel, hold him down." He handed Caleb a piece of cloth to stuff in his mouth and the boy clutched it in his hand instead. Griffon fished a spare cloak from his bag and began tearing a strip from it with his sword.

"It hurts, please--"

Griffon looped the strip of cloth tight around the stump and an almighty shriek ripped the air so loud it nearly punctured his eardrums. Griffon winced. He threaded the handle of the sword through a loop in the cloth and twisted until most of the blood stopped. Caleb's screams dimmed, then reduced to moans. Griffon tied his legs together.

"Am I going to die?" Caleb asked in a weak voice. Griffon stayed silent and kept binding the boy's legs so he'd be easier to carry.

"You're going to be just fine, we'll get you back to camp and the medics will patch you up, right, Griffon?" Gabriel interrupted while giving Griffon a hard look. Griffon shot an equally hard one back.

"Please don't let me die. Griffon, promise me you won't let me die," Caleb whimpered from underneath his facemask. The tear tracks on his face carved lines in the dirt that had settled there. Griffon set his face and did not answer.

"Tava, Gabriel, grab an end and follow the markers. And be careful."

The stench of iron from the wound and sulfur from the digger venom permeated the air as they made their way back to camp. They made quick headway at first, but as the distance drew by the weight got heavier. The land seemed to stretch endlessly in front of them, permeated by the occasional false hope that they might be close as the shimmers in front of them morphed and changed shape. By the second to last marker Gabriel had handed off Caleb's front end to Griffon while Tava had switched from the head to the feet.

Every step they made felt like they'd climbed a mountain. Usually, when someone out here got hurt, there was no way to save them. The fact that there might be a way made it worse. The fact that the boy was still a boy made it nearly unbearable.

Griffon barely noticed until they were almost back to camp that the whimpers had slowly lowered in volume, then faded. His heart caught in his throat. He pressed his fingers to the boy's neck and held his ear down to feel for the welcome sound of warm breath. Nothing. No pulse under his fingers. He sighed and shook his head.

"He's dead," he announced. Gabriel looked to him, then to Tava, as if asking for permission or for what to do next. Griffon sighed and lowered Caleb's front end to the ground. Tava set his feet down gently.

"Carry the body out a little ways, cut it into pieces, then bury it in a couple different spots so the scent doesn't make them follow us. I'll watch for more," he said. He turned his back and waited for them to leave.

Griffon wiped a hand across his eyes. It would be a long time until he could forget the desperate pleas, or the terrified look in Caleb's eyes. He'd begged him. Pleaded with him not to let him die but there was nothing he could do. For a moment Griffon was a boy again, unable to save anyone.

Bile rose in his throat and his stomach churned itself in knots. Fire pricked at the corners of his eyes and he held them with his forefinger and his thumb and took short, deep breaths to steady himself. A twinge that would soon become an almighty headache formed behind his temples.

Gabriel and Tava came back an hour or so later. Blood smeared the front of their shirts and spattered their faces. The only sound after that for a long time was that of their footsteps in the dirt.

"It always sucks," Gabriel said quietly. Tava produced a flask from his belt, uncapped it, and handed it to Griffon. Griffon tore the cloth from his mouth, took a long drag, and said nothing.

By the time the tents started appearing over the horizon the sun had set and the air was starting to take on a chill. Griffon separated from the others on the outskirts of the guard tents and made his way toward the dinner tent, where with any luck he'd find Aegan.

Around him, guards played with decks of cards or played board games. They laughed at each other's jokes and drank each other's ale. In a few days Tava and Gabriel would be among them. The desert swallowed up and soon forgot those who couldn't withstand it. It made him sick. Griffon hated long stops. Scouting missions, hunting, the like...they all took place now, when they had entire days to look for animal carcasses or clues to where they might scrounge the next meal, or if they were lucky, something to sell so they could buy some liquor.

Griffon ducked his head as he entered through the back compartment of the meal tent. Aegan sat at a table inside, sipping at a bowl of stew. He looked up at Griffon and waved him in. His steely eyes glinted in the glow of the lanterns, in strong contrast to the soft white wings on his back. 

""Nice of you to announce yourself. How did the scouting mission go?"

Griffon's shoulders dropped and he shook his head. "We lost Caleb. A digger got his leg and he died before we got back." He turned away from Aegan, braced for a raised voice.

"Shame, I  liked him. I guess it's one less mouth to feed," Aegan replied. He lifted a wooden tumbler and took a long drag. Griffon's shoulders relaxed. He rested his forehead in his hand, took another deep breath, and let it out slowly.

"I apologize," he said.

"Why? We can always find more marked ones for the guard. These things happen. Sit. Are you hungry?"

Griffon pulled out a stool and eased himself into it. Caleb's voice begging him over and over not to let him die echoed in his ears. Aegan pushed a bowl toward him. Griffon picked it up and took a sip. The warmth made him feel a little better, but not much.

"He was afraid. He begged me to let him live."

Aegan pushed his spoon around his bowl a few times. He took another bite and looked back at Griffon.

"Well, you can't make it in this line of work if you can't stand to see a few bodies..." Aegan frowned deeply and let the spoon go in the bowl. He interlaced his fingers. "Is this about Armand?"

Griffon sighed and stared down into his meal.

"If it were up to me, we would kick him out and be done with it. Don't you think it's time you let him into the world on his own? He doesn't belong in the guard. You know it and I know it. I only keep him in because I can't afford to lose you in command." He paused for a second and let out a protracted sigh. "I always saw something special in you, Griffon. Even when you were little and hurt. There's a reason I took you in and fought so hard to save you. Don't forget that you owe me."

"I know. And you can trust me. Just...keep him off scouting parties for now."

"It doesn't matter to me," Aegan said. "You know how I feel already. Why don't you take the bowl and go?"

Griffon recognized the order for what it was. He picked up the bowl of stew and made his way out of the tent. He wouldn't let Armand leave when diggers roamed the open desert and worse dwelled in the city. But how long could he hold him off until he wanted better? He sighed and shook his head. God knows how long he'd be in for this, either, if it wasn't his only option.

    ---

What do you think about Griffon's reaction to one of his scouting party dying? Do you think he should have done anything differently?  Put your opinion in the comments!