Chapter Text
The xeno base was a thousand feet above him, but its proximity bothered Chal little. The aliens never came around the back side of the place, the part that actually came right to the edge of the mountain, and they never wandered this far from it. The terrain was too steep, the weather too persistently cold, and there was nothing for miles and miles and miles around. Oh also, the snow. It snowed a lot of the year.
This ledge was a perfect place to take a break during his travels, and he made frequent use of it whenever he was in this area. The terrain and weather offered him protection from the xenos; the proximity to the xenos offered him protection from humans he wanted to avoid.
The only downside was its very isolation, which meant no food sources nearby, which meant he could never stay too long. Hunting was too sparse, and too messy, it tended to draw unwanted attention...
He was just settling in to unpack his travel belt when he heard the Seekers.
He quickly swung his head up, stretching his neck so he could see outside his little cave. A full Seeker wing was diving from the back side of the base. Odd. Seekers rarely ventured out in this weather. Sometimes they would patrol when the winter winds weren't too bad, but these were definitely in pursuit. He scanned lower in the sky, and almost missed it--a single human figure in free-fall.
Definitely odd.
He retreated from the front of the ledge as the Seekers and their prey neared, ducking his head to hide his brilliant crest behind the whiteness of the upper side of his wing. It was an unnecessary extra step at camouflage; the Seekers were too focused on their prey as they continued past Chal's hiding spot, continuing their race towards the lower slope.
Chal peered out again, looking downwards from his ledge in time to see one of the Seekers had caught up to the person, slamming into him with large, viciously-clawed feet. The human began to roll in the air as he fell, but did not appear to be reacting. Either he was dead, or unconscious.
The Seekers continued to harass him as he fell, but made no move to quickly kill him, or retrieve him.
So very interesting. Chal pondered who might provoke such a reaction from Seekers. Someone who wasn't dangerous enough to kill as soon as possible, but not worthless enough to just let him fall to his death untouched. Surely the person wasn't another xeno. They didn't toy with their own like that. They preferred to do their intra-species torturing behind closed doors. So a particularly troublesome human, then. Perhaps a military officer, or one of any number of rebel group leaders, or...something like that.
The Seekers and their prey had disappeared below the trees now. He saw a poof of snow erupt into the air as they hit the ground.
His curiosity too often got the better of him. Before he could second-guess himself, he pushed himself from the ledge, spreading his wings to glide above the treetops, his flight silent.
As he came within range, he could hear the Seekers taunting the person. So the mystery man had survived, somehow. Chal could catch flashes of motion through the tree tops, the aerial xenos circling and harrying the man and apparently having fun doing so.
Enough of this. He may be a loner, but he wasn't without empathy for a fellow human.
He dove through the trees. Thin as they were from the elevation and the steep slopes, it was not difficult to accomplish, even for a dragon of his size. And with him being mostly the same white as the landscape, and no electronic tech on him for them to sense, they never saw him coming.
He didn't slow when he came among them, only reached out with his short forelimbs, grabbed the nearly unconscious human, and pushed off through the trees again before the Seekers could react.
They recovered quickly, and were on his tail in no time.
He followed the mountain slope, keeping just above the treetops. If he could just make it around this ridge, he would hit a massive updraft that drove the wind and snow upwards against the mountain. It would send him high above the clouds, into freezing air that the Seekers would not want to spend time in, no matter how much they wanted to retrieve their stolen prize. If he got lucky, they might abandon the chase even before then; with the sun beginning to set, the shadows cast by the mountains were already deadly cold.
He heard them fire their weapons. He swerved, and the shots went wide. No such luck that they'd abandon him. Okay then, to the updraft.
He beat his wings hard, racing for the ridge. Now that he was climbing, his speed was quickly falling. The Seekers would catch up with him soon. He may be as agile as a Seeker in the air, but he was not always faster.
He could hear them just beyond his tail.
Hurry...hurry...
He passed over the mountain ridge.
The updraft hit him like a thousand icy knives. He flared his wings and tail fins, catching the wind. It grabbed him, shooting him upwards at a dizzying pace, almost causing him to lose his grip on the man.
Chal looked back down. As expected, at their first taste of the arctic blast, the Seekers had given up.
Then he was above the clouds, and out of view.
He coasted above the clouds for several miles, trying to calm his adrenaline-juiced heart, trying to figure out where the closest safe spot would be so he could safely land and settle himself in before darkness fell completely. Tomorrow, he'd have to find the nearest medical help possible, if this man survived the night, or hell, even the thin air up here. He had been limp and unconscious in his grip for some time.
His wings were beginning to go numb from the cold. He would have to risk descending now, and hope the Seekers weren't still tracking him.
Once closer to the ground, Chal skimmed along the treetops, scanning the landscape. He recognized the landmarks--this was not an area he usually stayed in. He preferred to push on through this stretch and get to the settlement another ten miles to the south. But the sun was nearly gone now, and it was far too cold for anyone, even himself, to be out for much longer. The landscape was still jagged enough here that a covered ledge should be fairly easy to find.
He craned his neck down so he could glance at the person held in his hands, the first time he had really thought to do so. The man was hanging limply in his claws, his face to the ground so that Chal could only really see his back. He was lean, with dark hair that was blown back in the wind, and his clothing was very utilitarian--tough pants, sturdy boots, a longsleeved shirt that was most definitely not snow gear, a few straps crossing his torso that were probably meant to hang items from but currently held nothing.
And from the long Seeker-claw slashes that covered the man's body oozed dully-glowing blue xeno blood.
Chal could only stare. Then he turned his attention back to finding a place to hole up for the night.
'Damn it. Damn it. I've got a God-damned xeno in human form. Idiot!'
Ahead, there was a ledge, with a very large overhang. Perfect. He slowed for a landing, flaring his wings as his feet touched the ground, and dumped the xeno at the back of the ledge, a little more roughly than he should have dropped someone injured so badly.
'Damn it.'
He trotted off into the forest to look for dry tinder. He may have been able to stand the cold better than xenos, but even he needed extra warmth at night. And this injured xeno would die if he didn't--
'What do I care if he dies? He's a damn xeno. Must be a terrible one if even those Seekers wanted him dead.' He had a good stack of wood in one arm, and grabbed a large dead tree trunk in his mouth, dragging it sideways as he hobbled back to the ledge on three legs.
The xeno hadn't moved.
'Probably already dead.' He dropped the wood under the overhang, then bent his head as close as he dared to the silent xeno. It was so difficult to tell with these guys. Their hearts didn't pump, only whirred continuously, or so he'd been told. And they didn't breathe, not really. Occasional breath-like movements were programmed into their human bodies so they wouldn't appear out of place among real humans. It didn't always work.
The xeno was still, ever so slowly, leaking glowing blue blood.
Chal had no idea how to tell if the thing was alive or dead.
Grumbling to himself, he returned to his fire-making. He carried a small magnesium fire-starter in the pouch he kept slung over his shoulder. Small to his scaled fingers, normal size for any human hand. It had taken him much practice to find the best way to hold it using the tips of his claws, and how to rasp the blade against it without dropping it. Not all dragons breathed fire, and for those who couldn't, these fire-starters were the way to go.
Soon, a small fire was crackling. He dared not make it any larger. Someone could still be looking for them, and he was too cold and tired to make another run for it tonight. Plus, he wasn't in the mood to look for enough wood to support a larger fire.
The xeno still hadn't moved.
He positioned himself with his back to the wind, his front side curled to protect the fire. The little ledge would be warm soon enough.
His supply of wood ran out just as the sun was beginning to rise. He left briefly to gather a few more branches so he could warm up a quick breakfast, his last packet of oatmeal, then settled himself on the ledge like a sphinx, looking out into the forest.
Why was he waiting? He should have left by now. It was stupid to sit here in this area, with any number of xenos from the base likely now out looking for him all thanks to his massively stupid mistake.
He glared back at said mistake. He had the vaguest notion that this xeno was still alive. The wounds no longer dripped, and at first he thought the thing had simply run out of blood to bleed, but then he thought perhaps the creatures clotted, like humans. He would give this xeno until the sun was fully up, he told himself. Then he would leave.
So he waited.
And then he heard it. The xeno was stirring.
He turned his head back to look. The xeno's eyes were open slightly. He was weakly trying to get himself sitting, but could barely move his arms.
"About damn time," Chal said.
"You..." The xeno's voice was weak, and even that one word had the strange tone to it that indicated he'd only just recently learned to speak a human language.
"Yeah, me."
"Wha..." The xeno's arm slipped, sending him collapsing backwards heavily onto the cold ledge.
"Seekers were trying to kill you," Chal said bluntly. "For whatever God-damned reason, I thought it'd be a good idea to get in the middle of that."
The xeno was staring at him.
He stood. "And now, you're awake. I bid you good day."
"Where..."
"You want to try your luck, head south. There's a town that way. Maybe they'll take pity on you." He spread his wings, and felt himself hesitate. This xeno was in no condition to travel in such weather. Even if he had been in full health, it was a dangerous journey for an alien.
He decided he didn't care. He couldn't afford to care.
Then he pushed off from the ledge and was airborne.