Alone, I looked at the ape. Its snoutless face and lanky limbs seemed squished or distorted, like someone pulled a dragon out of shape and peeled their scales off. I hissed at it, but seeing the gore below its head relaxed me just a nudge. It wouldn’t, couldn’t, get back up and haunt me. Right? Circling it, inching forward with the lantern, I reached the body. As I neared, a strange taste lit on my tongue, sourly metallic and like a storm. It called to mind the aluminum lightning rods you saw at the fringes of skylands⁠ ⁠—⁠ only so much stronger and pungent, like a metal dying. I’d still rather smell it than look at it. Stopping before it, I looked closer at the silver outfit with dozens of little plates overlapping each other like fake scales. Gentle, wary prodding gave the feeling of some hard, light metal. Aluminum? Where did it get aluminum? Aglare in the white lantern-light, looking dull and scratched, the plates at least seemed of fitting quality. I picked up a limb near the head. With a foreleg shorter than mine, with toes thinner, stubbier, and missing a whole digit, with claws that were round and negligible, you could only call this a cheap imitation of a dragon foreleg. I folded its foot, flicking my tongue at how⁠ ⁠—⁠ useless it seemed. The foot only had one opposable hallux, where I had two sitting on either side of my sole. Could it even walk up trees or cliff faces without two halluxes? Elsewhere, the torso was shorter but almost half a forefoot thicker… was even this thing longer than me? Frills crinkling, I aligned myself to check⁠ ⁠—⁠ but no, it wasn’t. I smiled. The weird legs just confused things, again. With my head next to its, my legs came out well past the end of the belly. I rolled my head, and forced my gaze higher. Behind its silver outfit was dark skin, nearly black, covering the face, features like stacked slabs. Two recessed green eyes poked out, orbited by little hairs. More hairs sprouted out above its head too, long as one of my toes and white. I stepped back, trying to fit it all together, and couldn’t. Its forelegs and hindlegs had an alien disparateness. Maybe my legs were asymmetric, too⁠ ⁠—⁠ hindlegs a little bigger and stronger, to launch me into the air⁠ ⁠—⁠ but I could still walk on both pairs, and all four of my feet could manipulate. This ape’s oblong hindfeet had to make terrible manipulators. And it couldn’t possibly walk on those forelegs. Did it walk only on its hindlegs? How did it not teeter over? And was its underbelly exposed as it moved? Why did it only have four limbs? It wasn't the most baffling — yet even the gorillas or chimps had the full six limbs. “What a strange creature,” I said to no one. Maybe the gods had created them as a joke. A black cloth covered its face, so I hooked it in my claw and tore it off. Hidden by the cloth, the ape had a fleshy protrusion with two holes. A nose? Below that sat a mouth, circled by light brown lips. I stuck a claw between its lips and opened its mouth. Inside, I saw little yellow teeth and a pink tongue blackened down its center. I gasped. It had no fangs! Fangs limned emotion and feeling. A dragon without fangs was devoid of expression, of life. Poets called the fangs the wings of the soul⁠ ⁠—⁠ where the heart lurched the body into motion, its pulses nurturing animal feelings like anger or fear, and its warmth expressing comfort or lust, the fangs dewed with scented venom that betrayed your complex, innermost feelings. And this creature had none! Yet Hinte claimed it was somehow sentient… I turned around, sitting with the ape firmly out of my sight. My heart calmed at once. I had never guarded anything before, but I tried what I could. Which meant idly looking around and up, for all the nothing that it did. My frills still were fanned, and my tongue flicked out every twelve or thirteen heartbeats, scenting the air. My tart fangs dried, and less attention left me. There really was nothing else here, and Hinte would return soon enough. A sigh followed by pacing, by slowly flapping my wings, by sitting back down and fluttering my feet, and another sigh. Then came some playing in the rocks or dust, and sculpting small figures and inscribing random silliness: glyphs for flowers (a spiked circle) or for love (two tails entwined). I erased them to make room for more. After all the walking, I decided I wouldn’t move around more than I needed to. Sitting like this reminded me of the soreness in my legs, but also soothed it some. I shot a glance at the overhang with clouding eyes and tightening brows. The moment Hinte returned, we would have to walk back home. There was a sigh. Hinte and I seemed so different. We had things in common, of course we did⁠ ⁠—⁠ we liked seafood, and scrolls, and hunting; we hated brumating, and how the townsdragons look at us when we pass. I hadn’t even initiated our relationship; she found me. I just⁠ ⁠—⁠ couldn’t taste what she saw in me. A new smell arose as I sat. My tongue waved, and identified the foul stench: feces and urine. I glanced at the corpse, but I held my tongue and continued looking away. Nothing to do about it. Nothing I wanted to do. All around, you could hear the lake’s distant cracks and grinding, and the soughing of the wind, and the quiet; it didn’t fill the air, it didn’t envelop you, but it remained there in the background, a dark suggestion. I told myself there were no worries, no rockwraithes or glazed olms or skinhounds or wildcats or anything; and Hinte would return soon and how silly would I look scared of nothing? I didn’t like how close I felt right now to little hatchling Kinri, flapping at shadows and squalled by monsters. I really didn’t like how I could almost hear the echoes of a key harp, humming in a time-warped tuning, and over it a deep and stormy voice, restrained into a pitched murmur just for me. I didn’t like that I wanted to sing along with her. I looked around again, all around, and made sure no one could hear me but the corpse. I murmured, and the voice was definitely Kinri, all Kinri. She sung:

“From not the calm of night nor court of day

“Shall your high course be shadow’d, study’d nor sway’d;

“In places lonesome or in midst of noise

“Your visage limns naught save the utmost poise.

“Till ruin betides the mighty and asqualled

“You’ll rise with the mantle of the eld heroes called—

“Specter! unseen agents of shadows stark;

“Specter! for lofts high and by keen stars mark’d.

“Know that when fools had stood atop the world

“We wielded light with lucent cloaks unfurl’d;

“Know that when dusk at last overrose the Sky

“We deigned that peace on wings of words should fly.

“Till starless foes above have languishèd,

“Our family alone distinuishèd!

“House Specter shall overmaster rot and dearth;

“House Specter shall unite the heaven and earth!

“From out the stars of night and dance of day

“Will our high course be but the only way;

“In all the world’s woes and in all life’s joys

“Our visage limns naught save the Specter poise.

“…Now sleep, O heir of Specter⁠ ⁠—⁠ my Kinri.” I wiped my fangs. What you just heard, that was the anthem of my family⁠ ⁠—⁠ except for the last, half-breathed line; that was just for me. It had been gyras and gyras since I’d heard the anthem sung to me, yet only dances since I heard (and not really listened) to it simply being played, for crowds, at gatherings. And yet, I still remembered it with that long since dried voice and destroyed key harp, because there was something deeply personal, some verity, that the rote recitals⁠ ⁠—⁠ backed instead by high strings and drums⁠ ⁠—⁠ seemed to lack; something that had came aflame when she limned it with her violin and restrained voice. My fangs had dewed again, and this time it smelled tart; I didn’t wipe them. Instead I just sat like that, letting my past ring out in my mind and clawing more scribbly distractions in the gravel. Suddenly glass cracked in the distance! My frills flared. I was jumping to my feet, and turning. A shadow lurched in the darkness! I leapt away, rolling behind one of the boulders on the hillside. My forelegs shook, and my wings hugged my body. The cracks came closer, hurried and heavy. They stopped for a beat before hurrying away just as fast. I had held my breath. My wings hugged me tight enough I could feel a strain on their membranes. While my breath stopped, my heart thrashed, its pulse waxing to an unsteady flow of frantic energy to my legs and my wings. When the energy dragged me into motion again, I peered out from behind the boulder; but as I stared, nothing moved in the vog. “Hinte?” I called. No response. My heart urged me to move again, but I remained behind my boulder. After my heartbeat reduced to just racing, instead of thrashing, I heard footfalls approaching. I flicked my tongue, and found the metallic lightning taste fading. “Hinte?” I called again, half as loud and a quarter as confident. A high, throaty laugh came, followed by, “Guess again!” I peaked from behind the boulder. A figure clad in a ragged-white sifting suit stepped into the circle of glairy light. There was faint jingling as they wiggled their frills. The sifter asked, “Got an ax on you?” When I shook my head, they just shrugged. “Did–did you see anything?” I asked, a quiver in my voice. “Something was moving in the vog and it came almost right over here by me and gah.” I ended with something between yell and a groan. The dragon lifted their head. “Nah, but I heard something stomping around somewhere around here. Obviously a white one or something in that vein.” Their voice had an exaggerated highness to it, pitched cynical and saccharine. It was a voice you had to try to make. Still, I stepped from the behind my boulder. Strange voice aside, they looked and talked like another sifter, not some lake monster. I walked back toward the body. Where the sheathed weapon had sat, only the drying pool of blood remained. “Whatever it was ran off with a weapon.” “Did it smell like metal? White ones love to chew on metal.” The dragon was hitching their wings at me. Withy the lantern you could see her yellow-brown plain-dweller scales and face round like a pear. Tilting my head, I asked, “Doesn’t everything in this lake smell like metal?” The yellow-brown dragon hissed a laugh. “Obviously.” They flicked their tongue and added, “except you smell like some weird perfume.” I looked away and scratched the ground. “Anyway, point is white ones smell like sourness and metal, crabbies smell like dinner and metal, and sifters smell like cheap metal and broken dreams.” They wiggled a frill, and it faintly jingled. “Well, I guess.” I glanced back at the sifter. “Aren’t we a little far from the lake? I think olms⁠ ⁠—⁠ white ones live in the glass.” “They can walk halfway to Gwymr/Frina when they get hungry, obviously.” “Okay.” I was looking up to the gray blackness above. After a beat, I asked, “You’re a sifter, aren’t you?” They nodded, pointing to their ragged-white sifting suit and for a moment lifting a rod out of their bag with a tail. “So, do you know this other sifter out there tonight? They carry around weird necklaces and give advice. And they’re kinda nice.” “Ah yeah, that’s my buddy. Bit my flanks to stick with him in the lake, wanting to stick together, then changed his chime as soon as he tasted that scent.” The yellow-brown dragon stepped forward, jerking a wing at the body. “I’m reasoning that’s it?” I poked the corpse. “This is what we found. I thought there might be a few others, so my⁠ ⁠—⁠ companion went to check them out.” The sifter scratched their neck. “So, why do you think these things are here?” I looked up again. “I don’t know. They’re away from the lake. Maybe they wandered in the wrong direction before being attacked or something.” The yellow-brown dragon twisted their head. “I reason that makes sense. Came by to check on that noise, so I’ll be heading back to my buddy⁠ ⁠—⁠ or wait for him, whatever. Seen what I snuck away to see.” “Okay. I need to stick around to watch this body. So um, fair winds.” “Yeah. Fairer winds to you.” They turned around but looked back at me. “And pray don’t tell anyone I’m still in the lake. My boss would fly down my throat if she knew. Thanks!” I waved a wing as they grinned and turned away. The dragon in ragged-white started to walk off, then spun right back around. “Oh, and I obviously feel a little shit for this, but it’s drier than my grandma’s vent out here and Dwylla knows I didn’t plan on staying in the fires this long. You have a swallow of water to spare?” “Um, yeah. There’s a canteen in this bag right here, just let me find it.” I dug through Hinte’s bag⁠ ⁠—⁠ it had to be near the top, but she had her own system for ordering the pockets. “Uh, here it is. Please don’t drink more than half.” “Obviously. I wouldn’t dare.” They took the blue-and-pink canteen and poured it into her mouth, without touching her lips to it. “Aah. Thank you, miss. You’re a savior.” The sifter turned around again, and began stepping away. They glanced back. “Get home safe, alright?” And with that, the ragged-white figure disappeared into the dark of the lake. Faint flaps came from high in the air. A different, familiar shadow glided or fell downward. Some of my fear slipped away. Hinte had finally returned! But her descent looked unsteady, and from her legs swung big forms. I slinked from the boulder to meet her, her bag banging against my breast. The dark-green wiver hit the graveling rocks with a loud crunch and yelp that turned my slink into a run. I met her atop what was almost a pile of apes⁠ ⁠—⁠ three of them. “Are you alright?” Instead of answering, she tried to stand, and seemed to succeed. On her feet, she started rolling the apes onto their backs, moving some of them easier than others. Hinte glanced at me, pointing her wing at the first body⁠ ⁠—⁠ now corpse⁠ ⁠—⁠ whose scent had led us here. “Carry the body, we are heading back to town now,” she said. I lowered my head, and licked worry from my fangs, and turned to the corpse, staring, hesitating. Hinte hurried me with a hiss, and stepped forward. Setting her bag down, stretching my legs, breathing deeply, I grabbed the body and heaved it over my back. I sagged with the weight. With somewhere between two and three good legs, it was a fight to stay on my feet. After working the body between my wings, I wiggled until it stopped sliding around. Legs were dangling off behind and beside me. Blood dribbled onto my sifting suit. Inside, I squirmed⁠ ⁠—⁠ but this was not the time for such things. Then, Hinte was behind me, and righting the corpse’s placement. She folded the ape’s legs so they didn’t dangle behind me. My fangs burned⁠ ⁠—⁠ Hinte wasn’t so short to need that. She had rope, and the ape was tied to my back. Afterward, I was fidgeting, whipping my tail around and wrapping myself in my wings. I couldn’t fly with this weight! Hinte could barely glide down with it, and she was bigger… stronger than me. When the dark-green wiver snapped her tongue behind me, I quit fidgeting and blew my tongue at her. Instead of keeping up the exchange, though, she dropped her rope and turned around, crouching, her belly almost touching the ground. I peered at her for a beat. Oh, did she want me to place the corpses on her back? That was… a good idea, really. I should have thought of it. Before hefting the bodies, I looked over them, only half-interested. One ape had also had its throat torn out, another having cuts at its stomach and legs, and a last bled from a bite on its shoulders. They only had a few items: bags smelling of dried food or tanned hide; scabbards sitting empty; a strapped, sheathed weapon hanging and swinging as I grabbed its sliced-up owner. That human also had a curve of gray wood wrapped around their breast. A bow? After placing two bodies on her back, I asked, “Don’t you want me to carry just as many of these creatures?” I said, then added in a thinner, wavering voice, “I’m not that weak!” “You are injured,” Hinte said, waving a wing. “Now stop wasting time. This is important.” I cringed, but the last corpse, whose dead forelimb was caught around a unempty scabbard, was on her back. I needed to mess with the placement again and again to keep the bodies stable. As I worked, my eye caught a bloody gash in Hinte’s wing. “What happened to your wing?” I asked. “Wait until we are with the faer,” she hissed, “I will tell the story once.” “Should we at least wrap it or something?” “No, it is not that serious.” I lifted my head, giving her one incredulous look before snapping my tongue and murmuring, “If you say so.” I could point out that she was injured too, so her argument didn’t fly anymore; but my injury hurt my walking, and hers didn’t. She was right. This was important. No time for pettiness. I bent down for the rope, amd saw a large, bloody tear in the sleeve of her right hindleg! The cut wrapped halfway around her leg and the white sleeve had only caught part of it. Where it didn’t, the hindleg was red. I let out an exasperated hiss and stood up. “Hinte, your hindleg is bleeding.” “What? Oh, that. Does it look so bad? It felt like nothing.” “Of course it looks bad⁠ ⁠—⁠ your leg is bleeding!” I said as I stepped closer to Hinte, reaching to get some bandages or something out of her bag. “Where’d you put that ointment from earlier?” “No, not that. If it is so bad, grab die Wunderv⁠ ⁠—⁠ grab the flat pink container near the bottom of the bag.” I followed her words, grabbing the container, opening it. “Rub a little of it on the surf–” she cut off with a hiss of pain, “–ace… Not too much, it’s for⁠ ⁠—⁠ ah!⁠ ⁠—⁠ for emergencies. I do not have much.” I hesitated, but then she said, “Kinri, you do me no favors by stopping. Finish.” So I did. She said, “Now get the bandage and be done with it.” The bandages were already near the top of the bag. “You will need to roll up the sleeve some.” The bandages unrolled onto her leg and had a pin stuck through to hold them. While I had the chance, I did this all to ripped wing. She clicked her tongue, but didn’t tell me to stop. She said, “Now finish placing the bodies. And do not complain about my injury. I won’t untie and retie your knot just so you can feel helpful.” Ugh. So stubborn! I placed and adjusted the last body without saying anything. The rope was looped twice around Hinte, and I let her tie the knot. When she finished, the dark-green wiver looked up to my smiling; and she only peered at me, flicking her tongue. Her lips might have twitched upward for just an instant before her serious frown won out, and I couldn’t tell if I had even seen anything. I sighed, and looked up. Shaking the body, feeling the blood dripping onto my suit, I said, “It’s like it’s us versus the rest of the lake, right, Hinte?” It’s like it’s us versus the rest of the family, right, sis? My headband was uneven. I straightened it with an alula. Hinte growled. “Us?” “Um, nevermind.” We walked away, and I was behind Hinte. * * *