I continued my frenzied pace for three days, following the clouds as they raced North and kept me hidden from the human population below, refusing to land to eat. Instead, I caught my kills and ate while I was flying, dropping the bones as I finished with them. I didn't even stop to sleep. When I felt tired, I floated to a stream of air and let the draft carry me the way I wished until I had regained enough strength to fly for a while more unassisted.
I first saw signs of snow on the third morning, a white mountaintop on the horizon many leagues ahead of me. It wasn't until almost nightfall that day that I officially entered the Northern Snows, a vast expanse of snow year-round that carried for many days' flight in every direction. The snow was a perfect place to hide a dragon my size and I scanned for a spot that would be easy to carve out a suitable den. I touched down on a patch of loose snow just as the sun was taking its light from the world and I began to dig a small den, fifteen feet down and fifteen feet in diameter. When I finished, I jumped in, landing in the center. Then I crouched and used my wings as a vacuum to pull the snow back over my Drakonian body and slept finally. I kept half of my brain shut down for sleep, and the other half alert for any change in my surroundings, much like a wolf does.
The next morning, I awoke. I stood up and stretched, wakening my muscles and aching limbs from the insufficient slumber. I unfurled my wings, wincing as the over-exercised muscles screams of pain, and brought the snow down on top of me by poking my head above the surface, thereby breaking the air bubble that had been keeping the snow from crashing down on me. My head uncovered, I scanned the skies for Derek. There was no sign of him and I jumped out of my den. I flew into the air and flew North, into deeper snows.
All day, I searched the ground and hills for any place safe to meet Derek in. I passed many caves, but none were big enough to hold two dragons, so I continued my northern trek.
After a total of nine days, I finally found a good-sized cave that was above the clouds, therefore out of range for humans. I landed and hunkered down as night approached.
Now, I just have to count down the sunrises. Once I reach zero from twenty-one, I'll go and look for Hutser. I thought, as I circled my bed. I wonder what he'll be like. Will he be kind and patient? Or mean and quick-tempered? He must be a good fighter, because he trained Derek and Derek said he was the best in his pod. What's a pod? I know a flock is a group of Drakonians, so is a pod like a human graduating class? I'll have to ask Derek or Hutser.
I pondered many things while the sun set. A lot of my race was unknown to me, almost everything. What was our history? If Drakonians are un-killable, why are there none around? Shouldn't there be many flocks? And why did Derek call me 'the future of our kind'? Are we the last? Have the rest of the species perished? If so, how?
I watched the horizon all day the first two days, never de-phasing, waiting for Derek. The third day, I was forced to hunt. I kept nearby, picking up some individuals from the local mountain goat herd.
That's how things went for the next three weeks. I'd be in my cave for two days, and hunting the third. Every night, while I was asleep, I would have the half of my brain that was active at night listen for Derek's mental call.
Slowly, twenty-one sunsets came and went and it was now time to search out Hutser. So, with a heavy heart, I departed my cave on the twenty-second sunrise and searched the skies and snows for any signs of life.
I flew to the Northern Great Waters and turned east until I reached the Eastern Great Waters and had to turn back inland and fly West again. It took a while, but I did, eventually, reach the Western Great Waters. I scanned the shores twice in both directions and found a small hut hidden in the icy hills.
