Moonhigh

The sky was darker than it had been earlier that day, hinting at bad weather. But that didn't stop anyone from coming out of their dens, fledglings or eggs by their sides, and waiting for an opportunity to leave. Some of the Darkwings stood stiff and trembling, frightened of the journey they would be taking. Their counterparts were the older dragons who had made similar expeditions in the past, so they were more confident. The children, though, were the most scared. One of them in particular—a small, obsidian colored he-wing with a silver marking on his forehead that made the shape of a star—was hiding somewhere in the sandy clearing, tucking his wings in so that all of his body was covered by a stone. He couldn't help trembling in fear. "Do you think we'll be going soon?" one of the adults growled, stepping in front of the stone. But his eyes were on one of his clanmates, not the child that was hiding just under him. "The clearing is becoming packed and the youngsters are already fidgety." The she-wing that he spoke to was distracted, her head facing the edge of the sand, where the most dragons were waiting. Her blue eyes were dull from exhaustion. "Shard!" She flinched from the sharp sound, pulling herself in to appear smaller. Then she noticed that it was the he-wing and her fearful expression softened. "Don't scare me like that," she purred, folding in her wings and rising to her talons. "I could hear you just fine." "But you didn't answer my question, so I was wondering if you'd gone deaf." Shard narrowed her eyes. "In all fairness, I'd much rather be deaf so that I couldn't hear you ramble on endlessly in my ears." "Haha." His tone was dry and sarcastic. The star-faced fledgling peeked from behind his rock, his ear flaps twitching as he tried to listen in. But at that moment the two adult dragons had walked off, speaking quietly to each other as if they had known someone would want to eavesdrop. So instead of sneaking after the older Darkwings, his gaze drifted upwards, following the gray clouds that had painted across the entire sky. They were billowing to be larger and larger by the second. There was no doubt that a storm was approaching the island, and the clan had to leave before the rain caught up. "Now, what are you doing here, little one? We can't stall when thunder is right ahead of us!" Teeth sank into the fledgling's scruff, and he was suddenly lifted into the air. He went limp, unable to turn his head to see who had picked him up, but he caught glimpses of pure black scales. When he tried to swerve his eyes up, he saw that his captor's eyes were a bright, emerald green, and they gazed off into the distance with an empty expression. "Why aren't you with your nestmates?" the stranger muttered despite her jaws holding up an entire lifeform. "Everyone has to stay with their families." The star-faced Darkwing couldn't manage to even squeak an answer. He just let his older clanmate carry him like a ragdoll, all the way across the clearing, to the edge of the sand. He could easily see the waterfall that connected the island to the ocean beneath. "Stay with them," the adult Darkwing instructed, setting him on the ground. "I don't want anybody left behind." Perking up, the fledgling glanced back at him, but the older dragon had already gone. He was stuck in the clearing again with these... strangers. Somewhere not far from where he sat, a group of four adolescents were crowding around their mother, wailing and screaming about the coming storm. "We have to go, Thunderlight! I can save all of us!" one of the youngest ones purred, unfurling her wings to show how big they'd grown. "Let me lead the way!" "That's not fair, I'm the oldest so I should lead," snarled another, his scales shimmering with silver streaks across the midnight. "Let's not shed blood over this, Silver Moon," the calmer one murmured, stepping between them. But her words didn't affect them at all, with the fourth one pummeling into her and shrieking about being a better peacemaker than she. The star-faced fledgling blinked at the second one, who must have been the eldest nestmate. They looked identical. He lifted a wing of his own, and saw that even the silver streaks matched up. An idea sparked in his mind. If we could just be mistaken for each other, maybe this family would take me to the new island instead of him. I wouldn't be an orphan any longer! It was a devilish plan. Of course. But the young dragon didn't understand the world, nor the morals of his scheme. He barely thought of the consequences as he crept towards Silver Moon, teeth bared, ready to distract the other he-wing from his nestmates. Silver Moon tensed. He must have sensed the orphan's presence. He turned around, hissing as silky venom spilled from his mouth. "Get away from me! Nobody is having a bite out of my flesh today!" The smaller Darkwing shrunk away, glancing back at the other fledglings. How had they not noticed? They were so oblivious! He shook his head. Whatever. They can be stupid all they want—I'm going for my doppelgänger.