Vigilante

Samsara took a deep breath, crouching lower against the rocks. Her hood hung around her face, and a gentle breeze tugged at the rough edges of the fabric. She watched the unfamiliar dragon turn his snout into the air, his hard scales glittering in the harsh sun.

The HiveWing snorted, tucking his iridescent wings close to his body. He took a few steps forward, disturbing the reddish sand. He had already dug deep into the rocks and collected jars of soil as Samsara watched him, unseen. 

Doesn’t look like a dignitary, doesn’t act like it, Sam decided, lifting the bamboo tube around her neck up to her mouth. She held it between her teeth as she sifted in the pouches around her arm for the appropriate dart. She had to move slowly. She didn’t know how good a HiveWing’s eyesight was, and she didn’t want to alert him to her presence by moving before he saw the dart coming.

Picking at the dirt under his claws, the HiveWing wasn’t likely to notice her at all. He seemed vaguely disinterested in everything, even though he was deep in AnoliWing territory. All HiveWings that Sam had seen acted haughty. In her opinion, the more vain they were, the easier they were to catch. 

Tail twitching, Samsara stopped. She sensed something coming their way, from behind her. If she moved slowly, her shawl would hide her against the rocks. Maybe the HiveWing had been the decoy for an ambush, maybe they were coming at her from behind, maybe they could smell her--

“RAWR!” yelled a little voice, and she relaxed. It was just an AnoliWing dragonet. She tilted her head to watch him stagger across the dunes, wings flailing. He was chasing a shimmering scarab beetle as it flew through the air. Although he was closer and had a clearer sightline, he wouldn’t notice her, and he certainly wasn’t a threat, anyway.

The dragonet shrieked in excitement again, batting in the direction of the bug. 

Oh, wait, that isn’t good, Samsara realized, fumbling to load a blowdart into the gun. She shifted her eyes and saw the flicker of HiveWing motion to the side. Shimmering wings unfurling, he stuck his pointy snout into the air, ears perked to trace the sound. 

As the scarab beetle opened and closed his elytra, revealing bright green translucent wings underneath, the little dragonet puffed out his dewlap to match, streaks of green pulsing on both in time. He laughed, catching the beetle in his clumsy paws.

The HiveWing began to beat his wings, faster and faster, preparing to take off. A low buzzing carried across the mesas. The little dragonet stopped, puzzled, his ear flaps pressing to his skull. 

Samsara’s thoughts raced as she desperately thought of a solution. The dragonet was behind her, and the HiveWing would pass directly over her to get to him, and her position would be lost. But she would have to move to put herself into position to dart the HiveWing now, and he was now looking in their direction. He would sense her movement, spot her, and easily evade any darts while airborne. He was much bigger than her and she’d have little chance in claw-to-claw combat. And then he’d take the little dragonet, too.

The dragonet had moved past the new noise and was now looking into his paws at the beetle. “RAWR!” he yelled again, the noise only slightly muffled by his paws around his snout.

Samsara made a decision.

“Ow,” the dragonet whispered, staring at the fuzz-ended dart in his chest, before toppling face first into the sand.

Sam winced, but she fumbled in the dirt beside her with little time for sympathy. She found a pebble of the perfect size and loaded it into her blowgun. With her biggest possible breath, she sent the pebble flying into an arch of rock close to the HiveWing, to the front left side of her position. Rocks flew from the small impact zone. Just to her luck, a large slab of sandstone that must have been loosened by erosion fell from the arch, breaking with a thud below. 

The HiveWing whipped his head around toward the arch and flew off toward it. Samsara regained her breath and rummaged through her pouch with her free claws, pulling out another dart. She shifted her head into position so if the HiveWing happened to turn around when he landed, she was one step ahead of him. 

Slipping the dart into position, Samsara watched the HiveWing land and inspect the area. Dust settling around his claws, he sifted through the rubble. He sat and raised his head, looking around for the culprit, and Samsara struck.

As soon as the dart left the gun, she rolled off to the side and controlled her tumble down the mesa, springing up once she reached the bottom. Her wings snapped out and she ran toward her target, drawing another dart out of her pouch as she began to glide over the sands. 

The HiveWing was down on all fours again, belly low to the ground, as he struggled against the dart’s effects. She had wedged the dart in the soft scales where his arm was joined to his belly at the shoulder, and he didn’t even have the strength to pull it out. His legs gave out and he fell to the sand, flailing his head.

Samsara reached him and watched as he locked eyes on her, struggling to speak. She showed no expression, keeping most of her face hidden under the cowl. She knew he felt like his mouth was filled with cotton, his limbs of lead. It wasn’t an appealing experience, but a few more seconds and it would be over. This HiveWing was alert and resisted longer than most.

Suddenly, his eyes filled with milky white. He twitched in a disturbing way before his eyes closed and his muscles unclenched. Samsara scrunched her snout. “Never seen that one before,” she muttered, unlooping a rope from around her chest. She reclaimed the dart from the HiveWing’s armpit and slipped it back into the bag, along with the backup still in her talons. 

Tightly binding the HiveWing and taking care to avoid his sharp talons and tail tip, Sam wrapped the rope around her own shoulders and began trudging toward the palace. I wonder what Basset will think of this one. She passed the dragonet, who had begun to snore, and nosed the dart out of his chest. “Sorry, little guy. Had to do it.” She took a small vial from her arm and uncapped it under his nose. His eyes moved under his eyelids, nostrils twitching. He would wake up in just a few minutes, rather than a few hours, though he’d probably be even more clumsy until it wore off. The scarab wriggled out from under his paws. 

Samsara dragged the HiveWing through the mesas as the sun lowered on the horizon. She allowed herself a smile, extending her dewlap. Sure is fun, protecting my home.