Wordcount: 392 words
Summary: Please note, this is currently a very rough draft. There will be spelling and grammatical errors afoot as well as flat out bad writing, info dumps, plot holes, flat out contradictions, and uneven characterization and pacing. (Content is also subject to constant change as I take an editing chainsaw to the story.)
I don’t want to die. That was all she could focus on, lost in the infinite branches of a future tree that showed what was to be. No matter which way she turned, no matter what choices she made, she was going to die. Please, no.
“Mine, be mine, please.” Baron offered her an escape and she took it, grabbed desperately and slammed the bond solidly into place. And with that, her futures collapsed in on themselves wiping clean the horrible horrifying visions and leaving only a giant black void behind.
She was crying, she did not know she was crying, but she wiped the tears from her cheek, gulping for breath even as she sobbed, pushing Baron back so she could sit up, but still leaning against him to stay upright. He was her anchor, as flimsy and terrified as he was, but they had no future together now. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
There was a scuffle and she found herself faced to face with an enraged golden hatchling that was screaming it’s fury at Baron who hissed back, tiredly. The baby was only a third his size, even thought it was the largest of the nest, and once it was in range it reconsidered the attack and sat just out of reach cussing him out.
The adult foxhawks had all fallen silent, staring at the new pair with a cold angry detachment that was confusing the hell out of their riders.
“You have broken the first law.” Storm, grey foxhawk and partner to the hatchling leader said. Calmly, without infliction.
“Yes.” Baron gaped at him, ears back and forelegs planted firmly on either side of May. “I did.”
“You have broken the third law.” Flame said, moving to step forward, then halting in place.
“Yes.” Baron, one eye on his elders and one of the golden hatchling who was cussing him out, but no immediate threat.
“Death and Banishment.” Watchlight, the red foxhawk who belonged to Sir Mirrim noted. The punishments he’d earned.
“Yes.” Baron narrowed his eyes and dared them to act in the middle of the crowd. Which they could not, lest the break the second law. There were things no one talked about outside the Warrens. The laws and the punishments for breaking the laws would wait.
And suddenly Baron was very very tired.