Chapter Text
Dayflight has always been too curious for her own good. Everyone says so. It’s not that she isn’t aware of this; she is, and she’s very careful with when she chooses to give into her curiosity. The Moon knows she’s been burned enough times to know better than to let it rule her. But being aware of our flaws does not make us impervious to them.
Dayflight has been restless of late, and in no shallow sense. Giving birth was a long overdue reprieve from the stagnancy of being pregnant, but even with her little one to keep her in line, her heart wanders. It’s no mystery why, given that she had two eggs, and only one of them hatched. She feels as though her remaining cub is the only thing keeping her tethered at all, and her soul is trailing in the wind, still calling for the one she lost. She felt the egg go cold, and yet she is sure that her cub is still out there somewhere, needing her. And because Dayflight is weak from loss, she has not the strength to fight off her curiosity. Not this time.
She goes to Skyreader. She has never sought their council before, but she has nowhere else to go. It is all she can think of. They do not seem surprised to see her. In fact, it is as if they were waiting for her. In turn, their words turn out to be just what she was waiting for.
Her cub is out there. That’s what they tell her. And despite herself, Dayflight knows they are right.
Without another moment’s thought, she leaves her first cub in safe claws and flies out in search of his brother.
It feels as if her heart is pulling her in the direction she needs to go. For once, she does not question it. She follows with the kind of desperation only a mother can know.
She finds him on a cliff-wrought island that the winter blows right through. Already his intelligence shows, as he has sought refuge in the woods, where the trees battle the wind for their right to him. He is completely strange to her, and yet she knows him at once. He is pink— white and pink. His eyes are as green as his brother’s. His scales are not apparent to her– in fact, he is smooth, like Water-Kin. He has a little red-brown tuft of fur on the crown of his head. There are no claws, no spines or even wings that she can see. He does not have so much as a tail. But he has clever little paws that reach out to grab around for everything with an unbridled curiosity that she knows in her heart-fire.
She scoops him up at once. He will suffer no more, now that she has him back; not the cold on his soft skin nor the bite of the wind. Finally, her family is whole again… and so is she.
She goes first to Skyreader to show deference and gratitude. The old Alpha sees her cub with the same eyes she did. They do not explain themself, and so Dayflight does not know what guide they follow when they give him their gift. But she is glad. So glad.
They return her cub with black scales splattered with the same amber-brown his fur was. His tail is beautiful, if slightly uneven, blooming and unfurling like a flower. His frills stick up wildly around his face. She looks down and thanks all of Life that his eyes are still that endless, impossible green. He is perfect.
Skyreader tells her that she holds between her wings a child of two faces. They tell her to feed them both. She promises with all of her that she will.
Back on Berk, the whole island is sent out to search for the Chief’s son.
They do not find him.