Upon Wings Of Change

Chapter 9

I yawned as I stretched on a ledge and carefully inspected the area. No one and nothing was visible with the remaining light of the setting sun. I climbed down to another ledge below me and rolled a rock away from the tunnel entrance. I slipped inside and used my tail to roll the stone back across the entryway.

The entrance was well above the ground level, but not quite as high as the tree canopy. This was my home, so to speak. I slowly eased my way through the tunnel, using my nose to ensure that no odd odour stood out. Better to be safe than sorry.

Everything was as I left it. There were three rooms, a main entrance, and an emergency exit. One room held dried fruit and nuts just in case a bad storm kept us in, although it had to be a pretty severe storm to deter us from the Morning Song.

The rain didn't really bother us since it rolled off of our scales, so the wind would have to be roaring to stir up the sheltered areas in the dense stands of trees to the point where it wasn't safe for our agile wings to fly. Although uncommon, such storms usually passed through a couple of times each year.

One room was for a guest if someone decided to stop by. I went to my room which was lined with soft sand that I had hauled in here. I, and every dragonet out there, preferred to sleep on sand. It retained our body heat beautifully, and it felt soft and smooth to our protective scales. It was pitch black in the tunnels, so I relied on my sense of smell and touch.

The walls were still warm from the sun that had warmed the outer rock as I curled up in my sandy nest. I yawned and drifted off to sleep.

*      *      *

A high-pitched serenading tone came from my throat as I spun sideways, feeling the air shift from the passage of the purple dragonet I had brushed past. Close passes were common in the Morning Song and didn't alarm us. Our reactions were swift enough to evade one another as we flitted and spun around in a small circular column.

Once more, the time for the Morning Song ceased, and we glided away from the mid-air dancefloor. I flew towards the border of the park, weaving effortlessly through the trees. I perched in a tree, cautiously looking at the area where the park suddenly ended and the city's streets and buildings began.

The streets were clean and straight, without a crack or pothole to be seen. The Kymari usually preferred to travel on their own feet, although they had no problem using odd hovering shuttles or boat-sized flying vehicles.

Their homes were either single dwellings or huge complexes of roomy apartments for those who didn't want so much space. The buildings were sturdy, and straight lines were few and far between since the Kymari seemed to prefer slightly curved and flowing shapes. The architects of old would have wept.

None of us would wander down the streets or near the buildings, but it wasn't the streets or buildings that lured me here. I eyed up my destination; benches were spaced out along the sidewalk, and there were planters on both sides of each one. Several of the planters held a certain plant not native to this world, and the marble-sized berries they produced were the best thing I had ever tasted.

The Kymari ignored the sunburst berries, but the problem was that the scattered benches were right on the grassy border of the park as they touched the edge of the sidewalk along the road. We didn't want to be seen anywhere near the edge of the park. There was no cover or trees on the grassy border that marked the beginning of civilization. That grassy border was probably as long as a soccer field, and the short grass meant that I would be exposed when I left the trees.

It was still early, and no one was in sight. I leaned forward and pushed off of the branch, gliding until I was low to the ground before picking up speed. A few taller pieces of grass brushed my stomach as I flew as low as possible.