Gargoyles X TMNT: Shadows of New York

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"I think I see him!" The little one called. "Straight ahead, above the tower!"

The largest flew straight ahead, his longer and stronger wings curled and pulled taut against the wind. The upwash from his wings was more than enough to keep his little brother aloft, their practiced formation negating his much smaller wingspan's limits. He squinted into the night, trying to see what his younger brother saw.

"Man, I wish I had eyes like yours." He grumbled.

"Hawks wish they had eyes like mine." The small one replied. "I wish I had wings like yours. There's no way I'd make it this far without help. I'm too... well, tiny."

"Hey!" The older one turned his head, earfins fluttering in the harsh breeze. "Be nicer to yourself. I don't wanna hear you beat yourself up like that."

The admonishment was a drop of fuel in the smaller gargoyle's dry emotional wellspring, a source of inner strength that had rapidly diminished throughout the night's failures. Having his brother at his side again slowly refilled his soul, making him feel whole again. But he was still far from alright. He pursed his lips. "I guess you're right."

The older one smirked. "Nobody bullies my brother, especially not himself. Besides..." He turned his tail slightly, adjusting to a bit of turbulence that rippled the membranes of his wings. "... I was scared of being alone. I don't ever want to be by myself like that again. I'm just glad I found you again."

The small one kept his gaze forward, providing more directions as they got closer to the bridge. One thought, buried in the warmth and joy of their reunion, still nagged at him. He said he saw him wave to him in the alley, and he followed him. But he hadn't even been on that street.

He had to wonder if it was a miracle, or some kind of magic. Or maybe, some other force was at play. But he couldn't focus on that right now. They had to find their brother, and they had to get home before sunrise. Nothing else mattered.

-

Hudson squatted next to the tall flagpole, elbows on his knees as he peered toward the city skyline. His back facing the great towers of Manhattan as he looked out over this crowded spit of land, he had to be far choosier with his perches from here on out. Climbing glass, he could do. Doing it without leaving a very obvious and expensive trail for human pursuers to follow, however, was outside his abilities. Unfortunately for him, the van that had carried the four creatures had parked somewhere in the dense stone jungle that made up the head of this long island.

Hudson's one good eye struggled with the night, but he still had better eyesight than any human could ever hope for. He'd managed to follow them, with great difficulty, navigating the fine balancing act between managing his altitude and keeping his bearings. A younger or less experienced gargoyle would have quickly lost them. But the balance was a reflex to him, one that he hoped he could one day instill in his rookery-sons.

He had spied their van turning off into the thicket of brick cliffs below the foot of the bridge road, where they'd vanished from view. That was five minutes ago. He sighed, and resigned himself to a decision; he was going to have to follow on foot. He reached into his belt and removed the one tool he had yet to use, opening his wings and gliding down.

Swooping beneath the underpass, he buried his claws into concrete and slipped on the brown hood. He waited patiently for a break in the traffic. Then, releasing his grip and landing heavily in the gravel below, he caped his wings and dusted himself off. If he kept to the shadows, he would–with any luck–only look like a human wearing a heavy cloak at a glance.

Hudson got his bearings, and set off into Dumbo. It didn't take him nearly as long as he thought, his darting from shadow to shadow notwithstanding. Traveling stealthily was always slower, but he was light on his feet for an old man. He lowered his head, keeping his hands under his caped wings so his claws would remain out of sight.