Chapter Thirteen

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Prismarine watched as Blossom kicked Darkmist's back legs, knocking him down. She brought out a wickedly curved and long dagger out of the pouch. Blossom held the dagger near Darkmist's neck.

"Last chance." She snarled. Darkmist slipped out of her grip, and he slashed out, scratching her belly with what would've been a scar, but Prismarine saw it stop bleeding and it healed up within a few minutes. Blossom grabbed Darkmist and held him in a headlock. Her eyes glinted with something.

"Blossom, drop Darkmist!" Majestic snapped at Blossom, like the scary assassin was a dog.

Blossom's head snapped up, but she dropped Darkmist. Both glared at each other until Hare advanced forward, bringing her hissing scales closer.

"Does either of you two want to be a popsicle?" She snarled.

Majestic hissed, displaying long fangs in the front of her mouth. She backed off, though.

"Although, Hare, to turn us into a popsicle, you'd have to touch us—" she spread her front arms out. "—and how are you supposed to touch us if you can't see us?"

Majestic disappeared.

"Guys!" Prismarine shouted. "Why don't we stop fighting? There are two starved dragons here—" —he gestured to him and Saturn— "—so why don't you stop fighting and feed the group?"

Majestic materialized next to Monsoon.

Everyone nodded, and Saturn said, "I'll go out into the night. I know the desert, and I know some of the best hiding places for prey."

"But you can't go alone!" Prismarine pleaded. "Venus could capture you again!"

Saturn blinked.

"Can you come with me, Prismarine? I don't trust any of these dragons." He sent a look at Blossom, who was sheathing her blood stained dagger.

Prismarine nodded, and he leapt into the air, following his friend.

Prismarine and Saturn both stumbled back, their talons full of food.

The two NightWing hybrids had flown all the way to the Ice Kingdom, to grab some seals for Hare, and some fish for Monsoon.

Prismarine had found some nice, edible flowers under the snow of the Ice Kingdom. He still couldn't feel the tip of his talons. At least, for now.

His friends were waiting for him, and he was ready for it. 

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