*Katerina's POV*
I walked around the waist-high shelter and crammed twigs into the gaps between branches. When the biggest holes had been filled, I scooped up handfuls of wood chips and bark bits and tossed them on top of the shelter. The tiny particles quickly filled in the open spaces.
"Does this waterproof it or add insulation?" Brandon asked as he copied me.
I tossed more on. "Both. It also helps cut down on the wind and drafts. I'm tempted to toss leaves on, but they'd blow away."
He nodded then glanced up as Rakota flew over the trees and circled around to land near the other dragons. As if confirming my thoughts, the grasses by his feet waved wildly in the downwash from his wings.
Before too much longer, we were out of small debris and the shelter was thoroughly covered.
"Thank you," I told Brandon. "That certainly went quicker than I thought."
He brushed off his hands. "It was interesting and gave me something to do. Now what?"
"I think that's about it," I said as I looked around.
The shelter was done, the fire was still burning high, and the dragons were relaxing in the late afternoon sunshine. At some point, Randel had moved three larger sections of tree trunk to act as low seats. I didn't particularly feel like sitting down since that left conversation as the only way to keep boredom at bay, and Randel wasn't exactly a good conversationalist.
The thought of food had me digging through my backpack. I never carried much flour since I normally walked through one or two villages every day and could trade for more.
I weighed the bag in my hand and told the men, "There's enough flour for three small loaves, but we're going to need something else to go with our dinner. Meat is probably the easiest. It's the wrong season for berries, although we can keep an eye out for them."
Randel snorted. "The last time I picked berries, Andar had to cast a healing spell on me. It's been a while since I fired a bow, so we could go hunting."
As if he had been listening, the green dragon raised his head and eyed up his rider.
I didn't hear anything, but Randel held out his hands like he was innocent and told him, "Honest, I'll be careful. I won't point the arrows at anyone, and I promise I won't shoot your tail again."
Andar's unimpressed look turned into a glare. His jaw moved, although I still couldn't hear anything. He must have been using magic so only Randel could hear him
Randel groaned. "Alright. Just three shots. And I'll make sure both of them are standing behind me."
I hadn't expected Randel to tag along, let alone take over the hunt. This outing no longer particularly interested me, so I said, "I can set up snares for rabbits."
"Nah. I was getting tired of sitting. Let's go!"
He grabbed my bow and arrows and paraded into the forest. With a sigh, I trudged after him. Brandon gave me a sympathetic look as I went by him, then followed me. I heard the bow string twang even before we caught up to Randel.
"Well, there are rabbits around," he called back.
"There won't be if you keep making that much noise," Brandon warned him.
I examined the shrubs and bushes as we traipsed deeper into the forest. Several had flowers, but none of them had berries yet. We walked quite a distance before we saw another rabbit scampering through the underbrush ahead.
Brandon and I stopped and waited while Randel crept closer surprisingly quietly. He drew the bow in a fluid motion and fired – and the rabbit raced away, unharmed. Grumbling, Randel grabbed the arrow and began tromping after it.
The rabbit startled a pheasant into flight, although it quickly landed, not noticing us. Randel took his time inching closer and taking aim. Twang! The bird burst into flight as the arrow pinned several of its tail feathers to the ground.
Scowling, Randel turned around and stomped back to us, practically tossing the bow and arrows at me as he went by. "This bow is terrible. I'll go make sure the fire doesn't go out."
I remembered how much wood had been on the fire, but refrained from commenting since he was taking his leave. Shaking my head, I went to retrieve the arrow and also stuck the feathers in my backpack. They were damaged, but they might make a good quill.
"Let's see what else we can find," Brandon suggested. When I began looking around, he added, "Pick any direction you like. A rider can always tell where their dragon is, so we won't get lost."
I pursed my lips at that tidbit of information and tried to recall what I'd seen from the air. "I think there was a creek that way. You can use the bow."
When I held it out to him, he politely declined, "Thanks for the offer, but it's your bow."
"It was given to me a few days ago. I still can't shoot it properly," I sheepishly admitted.
"Let's stop and practice for a bit. Want to try hitting the dark spot on that tree trunk?"
Making a face, I found my practice arrow and prepared to be embarrassed. Already knowing the outcome, I drew the bow, took aim, and released the string. Twang! The arrow leapt from the bow – and promptly whizzed past the tree.
"Try again, but only use two fingers instead of three. It looked like your middle finger was catching the string."
I retrieved the arrow and drew the string back with three fingers, then removed one as I took aim. It was harder to hold but still possible. Twang. This time, the arrow thudded into the wood about three handspans from where I had been aiming. Intrigued by the progress, I made a few more practice shots. My aim slowly improved, and one lucky shot almost hit the spot I was aiming for.
"Mind if I try?" Brandon asked.
"Sure." I passed him the bow and practice arrow.
He fired an arrow, and I was secretly happy when he missed as well. He examined the bow as he went to retrieve the arrow. After a couple more shots, which came close, but never really hit the target, he handed the bow back to me.
He twirled the arrow between both hands while looking down. "The arrow itself is straight, but it either needs to be refletched or the bow is slightly warped. You can probably get used to it with enough practice. We might have a better chance if we go fishing or use snares. Which way did you say the creek was?"
"I think it was that way, but I might be mistaken," I replied, pointing.
"Hmmm..." He tilted his head, thinking, then nodded. "Yes, you're right. Diondin says it's about thirty minutes away on foot."
It was kind of eerie how he spoke about the dragon as if he were present, but I had known they kept close tabs on their riders.
"Do we want to go there or set up snares? It'll be a bit of a walk there and back."
"Well, we either waste some time finding the creek or set up snares and head back to the campsite to keep Randel company. I know which option I'd prefer."
"Why don't we keep walking?" I suggested.
With a chuckle, he nodded and walked beside me.
YOU ARE READING
Tricked Into Flight
FantasyDesperate to keep her magic hidden, Katerina goes to great lengths to avoid dragons and mages. When she gets cornered by evil mages, her only chance at escape involves freeing a trapped dragon. * * * Katerina's biggest fear i...