Book One: Onnu and Pannu

Hunger Pains

When Charon had passed over, and the suns began to peek through the shadows of its wings, the kin crept out of their hiding places. Some of the newcomers needed help getting out from under the smaller dragon's wings. He surely would have lifted them himself, had he been conscious. They bore him no ill will, for he'd gotten them to safety as promised.
   According to the kin who'd traveled with them, he had promised, where she had not.
   "He's earned his rest, he 'as," one of the furgoyles said. This one was a greyish color, where the one who'd come with her group had reddish fur. She couldn't even say why they reminded her of gargoyles, because they didn't have stone skin or wings, they just... did.
   "I heard. I wouldn't expect him to wake any time soon. How long have you lot been here, and how much have you eaten?"
   When her words had been translated, the furgoyle's brow puckered. "I reckon it's been 'bout a week now? We eat every couple o' days. Couldn't stop an' hunt much, 'cause we 'ad to get here quick as we could, right?"
   "You mean you walked here?" their furgoyle asked. She'd been so fascinated to see another of her kind, she'd been quietly staring from the other side of the dragoness.
   "What else were we supposed to do?" an elf asked.
   The kin who had made the Bowl home looked at each other, none wishing to suggest the obvious.
   "Well, how did you lot get 'ere?" the furgoyle grumbled.
   The dragoness blew a short breath over his head. "I am large enough to carry them. We made the journey in less than a day."
   Except nobody who'd ridden her wanted to translate.
   Those who understood her words looked to their dragon. He'd seemed absolutely massive compared to them, but now that she mentioned it, he was much smaller than she was.
   "He did carry us if we got tired," one of the native species chimed in. "He just couldn't carry... everyone." He trailed off, hugging himself. He wanted to be loyal, but it had been an arduous voyage. They'd lost a few to Charon's maw that first night, but how could any of them have known?
   The kin who'd walked were very different from those who rode. They were shellshocked, weary, worn thin.
   The dragoness stood up. "Well, you're safe now. He got you here, and that is more than some could boast. I will hunt for food."
   She looked around her group. "I may need help, though. Not only do I require sustenance, but this young dragon will also need to eat. As do these kin."
   Three of her catkin volunteered to hunt small game in the closest dragonhold, so they didn't exhaust their own supply. Many gryphons in both groups chimed in, as well as her birdkin, an ogre who'd made a bone spear he wanted to test, a few of the kin native to this world, and something that looked like a larger version of Stella that had traveled with his group. She wasn't sure the latter truly understood the assignment, but his owner assured her that he'd been doing much of the hunting that had kept them fed.
   "Right, then. Here's the rub: I can't do a vertical takeoff. I have to jump and grab a spire. I might be able to do it one-handed, which means I'd have to carry any volunteers who don't have wings. I'll only be able to bring you if you're willing to fly with me."
   "Lady, we just saw you carry another dragon and not drop him. I think we can trust you with our hides."
   The others agreed with the ogre, though a couple were green around the metaphorical gills.
   She held out one paw, but there were more than would fit. She dropped down so they could line up along her foreleg, and be cradled to her keel.
   "Hup!" 
   She marveled that this body, which she was growing to love more every day, could so easily make the leap while carrying eight people. Doing this at least once a day for a week, while eating regular meals, meant that she was able to fling them all into the air one-handed.
   That sounded way more badass when you didn't mention the wings that snapped out when they were clear, and propelled them into the sky. 
   She deposited the catkin in the nearby dragonhold first. Small game took time to find, and this Bowl was slightly larger than the one they'd been living in. She suggested they locate water, as well, in case they needed to hunt there often.
   The rest were brought to the edge of the plains where she'd had the most luck. The group that had spent more time in the wilds told her that game in the forest was plentiful, if you could take the time to hunt. Now that they had the time, they wanted to explore more fully.
   The ogre thought to look for edible plants, as well. He'd befriended some centaurs who were getting tired of a diet of nothing but grass.
   "It's like some extreme juice cleanse!" they'd groaned.
   "Meet back here when you've got a kill. No more than one per kin, or I won't be able to carry everyone. As it is, I may have to carry some of the food in my hind paws. Unless you can fashion some rope to lash it to my neck, or legs, or something? Totally open to ideas."
   "I mean, we can carry the smaller stuff," one of the gryphons reminded her.
   "You don't have to do everything," a catkin reminded her.
   She chuckled ruefully. "Sorry. I guess I just got so used to carrying everything, I kinda forgot. By all means, catch whatever you can carry, then. I would say you could head home with it, too, except how would I know if anyone went missing?"
   They couldn't argue with her logic. Anyone with wings took to the skies to hunt the plains, agreeing to meet back at the treeline with their kills as they finished.