Griffon wiped a bead of sweat off his brow and tried not to look at the fire crackling ominously in the corners of his vision. He curled his wings closer to his body. Gabriel tended the fire, and soon it would be Rannok's turn. Griffon would avoid it if it was the last thing he'd ever do.

The black powder and sulfur that filled his bag hardly seemed worth the effort. With any luck, they'd get home tomorrow without trouble from the roamers that filled this part of the desert. He curled his fingers tighter around the metal flask in his hand and took a long draw from it.

These missions were his least favorite. Here, there was no way to avoid the fire or to make sure no one watched him while he slept, and for that reason he wouldn't save for bits and pieces snatched here or there. Never long enough for him to start dreaming and shatter the illusion of competence he painstakingly cultivated. His eyelids felt heavy. They'd just about fallen when he heard a commotion come from the fire. He unsheathed his sword.

"Who's there?" Gabriel's voice came from over the fire, and he could hear both him and Rannok rise to their feet, their shoes shifting over the dry earth.

"Put your weapons down, it's me."

"Armand?" Rannok said.

Heat creeped up Griffon's neck. He righted himself and sheathed his sword, careful to keep his distance from the fire.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Griffon demanded as Armand stared him down from across the flames.

"I followed you out," Armand said, as if it should be obvious. 

"You should be back at the caravan."

Armand scoffed and pulled a piece off the jackal they had roasting on a spit, then took a seat around the fire. Gabriel and Rannok stared at him, then Rannok glanced back over at Griffon as if waiting to see what he might do. Griffon's hands clench into fists. He took a deep breath in, then out.

Griffon didn't know whether to be angry or afraid. All the trouble he'd caused, all the complaining he'd done about wanting to make his own path, and here he was following Griffon like always. Only this time it was different. This time there were consequences Armand could not understand, because he refused to. The anger won out and built in his chest until he thought he might explode. 

"You'll follow us home tomorrow. You'll stay where I can see you and you won't wander off, not even for a minute. Do you understand? We'll talk about this when we get back to camp."

Armand swallowed the bit of food in his mouth, wiped his hands on his shirt, and pulled off another piece. He didn't turn to look at Griffon.

"I'll make my own decision. I didn't die coming out here, and I'll decide myself when I come back. I mean, if I come back, because clearly I'm not wanted." 

Griffon rubbed a palm across his forehead.

"I don't have the patience to argue with you, Armand."

"I'm not asking you to."

"Hey, now, he's just a kid, don't be so tough on him. We can use another person to carry a pack, and we're not that far from the caravan. I'm sure it'll be fine," Gabriel said as he inserted himself between them and nervously held up a hand.

"Rannok's out here. You're out here," Armand said, and his voice raised in volume as he gestured at them both. "You've been running caravan since you were what, fifteen? That's two years younger than me. And I'm just a kid? No. I'm tired of this. I won't--"

"That's enough," Griffon interjected, and for a prolonged moment it felt like either one of them might erupt. Griffon said no more and trudged back to his pack. He uncapped the flask and took another long draw. The bitterness of the liquid inside soothed him. He wanted to scream at Armand. To shake him until he understood sense. But now he feared he'd gotten beyond hope.

No one else spoke that night, and Griffon fought to keep his eyes from closing. He kept watch as Rannok switched with Gabriel and the sun began to creep up over the horizon. He even kept watch as Armand stirred in his sleeping pack, got up, rolled it, and tucked it inside the messily packed bag he'd come out with. No doubt he'd stolen the supplies from the tent they once shared.

Griffon rubbed a hand over his eyes. Pressure throbbed behind his temples and down the back of his neck. His eyes felt like they'd been bathing in the desert itself. They moved out just as the sun began to blast the frost over the surface of the dry clay they'd slept on. 

He didn't know if he could speak to Armand without a repeat of the previous night, but he was secretly glad to see him follow as they all moved out. Rannok heaved his pack over his shoulder and kicked dirt at the last couple of glowing embers. 

"Sleep alright?" Rannok asked, and Griffon just grunted without looking at him.

"Me neither," Rannok said. "So how much further toward camp?"

"A day's walk, the same as when we came out here. Hopefully we don't run into anything dangerous." He shot a pointed look at Armand, who shrank away from the glare and kept his eyes focused on the horizon.

"Why'd you even come out here?" Rannok asked as he looked between them, oblivious as ever. Griffon let out a sigh he knew would not silence the boy.

"Why not? Griffon seems to think I'm incapable, so I thought I'd prove him wrong."

"You can't fly," Rannok pointed out.

"Thanks, I didn't know that," Armand replied sarcastically.

The air grew tense and hot. Griffon sped his pace up a little so he was walking between them. The last thing he needed was another fight to seal Armand's fate.

"You're not going to impress anyone by dying," Rannok said.

"Enough," Griffon growled.

"I'm not trying to," Armand said calmly. "What I can and can't do is none of your business, Rannok, and if I were you, I'd shut up unless you want another black eye."

"Sorry, I was just trying to--"

"I said enough," Griffon repeated, and he held an arm out to force the two away from one another. "Armand, you're already in enough trouble. Rannok, stop asking for more."

Gabriel let out one of his infuriatingly inappropriate chuckles and Griffon suppressed an urge to strangle him. They marched on in silence for a few more miles before Gabriel stopped without warning and turned behind them.

"What's wrong?" Griffon asked. 

"Something's tracking us," he said. He bent down on one knee and traced the two-toed outline of a foot in the dirt. "Noticed a couple miles back."

Griffon glanced around. The shadows caught in the edge of the indents and outlined them clear as if they'd been written on a map. He couldn't believe he'd missed them. His heart leapt into his throat. This would be just like last time. Just like when Caleb got his leg torn off and he had to listen to his screams while powerless to stop them. His hands began to shake and a cold sweat broke out across his forehead. He had to keep it together. He had to do it for Armand's sake.

"Stay close," he ordered.

"What is it?" Rannok asked.

"Reavers. They might leave us alone if we just act like we aren't interested."

"What are reavers?" 

"Nothing you want to run into. Just keep walking," Gabriel said. 

Griffon kept his hand on his sword as he walked. Shadows came to life around him at every corner. The sound of someone stepping on a branch made him flinch and turn toward the noise. He slumped in relief upon discovering it was nothing and continued on.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Griffon noticed something approaching in the distance. A huge, brawny animal coursing toward him like thunder on four legs. Its beady eyes glinted in the sun as it approached and its small, velvet ears rotated toward him. 

"Get out of the way!" he shouted, and Gabriel and Rannok took off like shots into the air. Griffon looked at Armand, then back toward them, begging desperately for a solution to materialize. Griffon's mind went blank and he turned just in time for twelve hundred pounds of reaver to come down on him, teeth snatching at the air as he jabbed his sword blindly toward it. 

The animal's razorlike teeth grazed off his shoulder but tore only fabric. A sledgehammer-tipped foot flew toward his face and he ducked just in time for it to clip his left wing on the edge. He let out a sharp hiss and brought his sword out to strike the reaver again. It caught the animal under the leg and it let out a horrendous scream.

Griffon pushed past the animal. His legs tangled underneath him and he fell to the ground with a sickening crunch. He held his sword out over him as the reaver came down on top of him as flesh gave way to steel. The reaver scrabbled with its front legs and snatched at Griffon's face. One of them made contact with his head and Griffon fought valiantly to keep conscious only for the world to fade, then go to black.

Then there was only silence.  

---

What do you think happened to Griffon? Do you think he should have flown off with the others, or stayed with Armand? Let me know in the comments!