Chapter 82: Setting the Stage
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By mid-morning Fenna halted at a rock ledge overlooking a shallow basin. A thin waterfall trickled down one side, pooling in a clear pond ringed by obsidian gravel, a natural filtration. Thick vine thickets marked the basin’s edges, but the inner ground was relatively flat.
She glanced back at Zephyr, raising a brow. "Shelter walls?"
He studied the geography of the place. Ridge behind, water source (a huge plus point), established vantage, plenty of sets for his traps, and enough open sky for Star and Aurora. He noted a lone hawthorn tree overhanging the basalt bluff saying, "It’s perfect for us."
"I like it," he said. "Two blind approaches, one hard cover for reserves."
They descended.
First order: clear underbrush. Fenna hacked through thorny tangles. Zephyr dug shallow post holes, inserted reed stakes, and lashed them into an A-frame for a lean-to. They worked in harmony, trading tools, and sharing water. Star landed twice to offer updates, no threats—then took off again with Aurora in tow. Each time they reappeared, Aurora flew a little steadier, wings cutting cleaner arcs.
When the sun reached its peak—casting hot daggered rays through gaps—they broke for lunch under the hawthorn canopy. Dried wolf meat, moss biscuits, and thin strips of crisp char-fruit. Aurora waddled between them, begging for crumbs. Star lay behind, head on forepaws, eyes half-closed with satisfied exhaustion.
"You ever think," Fenna said between bites, "back at Lowmoor academy, we’d spend a morning moving camp in a lava forest while babysitting a phoenix and a dragon?"
Zephyr leaned back on elbows. "At Lowmoor I thought I would never become a tamer... I was sad. But you were always there to support me. I never imagined this type of day." He flashed a memory of his awakening.
Fenna smiled, but her gaze drifted upward to Aurora. "She needed this," she said quietly. "Flying, I mean. She might not fully understand Matron’s death and rebirth, but she feels it less in the wind."