Nordic narrowed his eyes against the brightness of the dawn and thrust his neck forward in an attempt to keep aloft. Behind him, Digole dropped down a few feet, and then slowed to a meandering half-glide. Sapphira seemed to be the only one not tired, but she was part dragon after all.

Her large wings moved majestically through the air every few minutes, gliding more than flying. When she saw Digole drop, Sapphira flew down underneath him and assisted his gliding with her updraft. This probably wasn't the best method of help, but it did the trick.

"Nordic, I think we better land for a while." His mate said calmly. Her voice was even, unbroken by the shattered breaths that the prince took.

"N..no. We're not pa...past Desert Clan yet." He stuttered, panting between words.

Nordic had always considered himself a good short distance flier. He had the speed, and the reflexes, but, as he was quickly discovering, he lacked the stamina for long distance. His muscles bit at him as he forced them to continue, determined to reach his goal.

"Nordic." Sapphira's voice was laced with authority.

There was no arguing with her, not that he had the breath to right now anyway. He'd always admired that about Sapph. She could change her voice so easily, take control of any situation in a matter of minutes. It was a great gift to have - something else that he lacked. Somehow, his mate managed to be caring towards others whilst still focusing purely on her main goal. He knew that she could probably fly for days straight, but didn't because she was a leader, because she focused on the group as a whole rather than her own ability. He and Digole were holding her back if anything.

He wished he was able to do something like that.

The griffon sighed and banked to the right. "Fine, fine. We can land..." He'd spotted a cave a few winglengths back, hidden behind a small crop of palm trees. "Here." He turned sharply and landed at the edge of the entrance to the cave. It was smaller than he had hoped, but hopefully big enough to allow them shelter for now.

Nordic glared at the sand at his feet. He'd wanted to make it through this territory without stopping.

There was a huge divide between the views of the reigning Forest Clan and Desert Clan. While Forest Clan called for defence and strength in numbers, attempting to convince the clans to unite, Desert Clan wanted peace and individuality.

Peace couldn't be achieved without some form of division, and so Desert Clan had proposed that the Clans stay separate and help each other, but Forest Clan was directly against that. Since Forest Clan were currently in power, this meant the Desert Clan was given next to no say in how they were run, despite their Representative cawing about something or other at every meeting.

If Nordic was caught here, with the signature markings of a prince and his Forest Clan colouring, he would be held as ransom, killed, or returned home. All of these outcomes made him feel sick.

As he had stood there, frozen in thought, Sapphira and Digole had landed beside him. The latter looked about ready to slump forwards into a deep sleep on the spot from the way he swayed slightly on his feet. Nordic felt his own muscles shudder with exhaustion, but he tried hard to keep himself from shaking.

Sapphira looked energised, if anything. Her scales were bright, glistening in the sun. She looked ready to fly for another three days straight. Nordic envied her resilience.

Maybe, if he could do something like that, the King would appreciate his efforts more. His father would definitely be proud of him if he was more like Sapphira.

He couldn't blame her for that though. It wasn't his mate's fault that she was superior to him in every way, that she was a better soldier, that she would have made better royalty. She was considerate, strong, intelligent. She had it all.

He had nothing.

Nordic scraped his claws against the ground, gouging the sand and pulling it into bundles. He calmed himself by doing this and became absorbed in the meaningless task.

"Nordic, get in here." Sapphira huffed.

The griffon looked up, eyes glistening, and made his way into the cave.

~~~~~~

Sapphira took watch while Digole and Nordic slept.

She was far too awake to even consider sleeping. Her instincts were on high alert, every sense quivering in readiness for attack. She was in her element, capable and ready to defend her 'clan' from harm.

As she sat there, eyes all but glued to the gaping cave entrance, she felt grateful for all of her years of survival training with the Comabtants.

The Combatants were notorious for their harsh training routines, strict procedures and lengthy programs. They had been reluctant to take Sapphira on due to the mysterious shroud that coated her background.

Generally, Combatants were from noble lineage; generations of warriors with their heritage written out and brandished with pride. It was no surprise that they were one of the most renowned warriors groups in the land.

Sapphira had proven herself worthy through a series of tests, each one harsher than those given to nobles. She had passed with flying colours, spurred on by the stunned expressions on her competitors' faces as she bested them again and again. She had been taken on as an underling - the lowest rank available - almost immediately after, placed into the B-level ranks and given an instructor to help her learn their ways.

They didn't seem to understand that Sapphira was fearless because she didn't care, determined because she had nothing to lose. If she was struck down on the battle field, mortally wounded, it wouldn't really matter. There would be no loss to anyone. There was no one left to care for her, and nor did she have any reason to stay.

She turned her face up to the sky, watching the slow, lethargic progress of the clouds as they trundled across the sea of dark blue. She shifted her wings on her back, wanting suddenly to fly. She couldn't, though, she couldn't leave her only friends alone, unguarded.

However, she could hunt the day critters whilst they slept. The heat of the cave was near-stifling, despite the worst hours of the day already having past her by. Sapphira stood up, flicked some stray sand from her wings, and made her way purposefully out of the cave.

An hour or so later, when the larger prey species had made themselves scarce, she returned to find the cave only slightly colder. She doubted she would have been able to sleep, even if she'd been tired.

A number of different creatures lay across Sapphira's back and wings. She was proud of herself for remembering the initial training she'd endured on hunting. As part-dragon, she was larger than the other griffons in her squadron, and disadvantaged when it came to being stealthy through the thick forests around the territory.

Hunting had been part of the trial she'd faced to get into the Combatants, which meant she'd had to find a way that worked for her, something different from the griffons, and yet still in line with the lessons she'd been given.

Trapping and exercising the element of surprise had ended up being the most effective methods for her, and after much trial and error she'd caught a bushrat - possibly the smallest mammal in the forest - which though nothing impressive, had gotten her into the battalion.

These same methods had to be adapted for use in the desert, Sapphira soon realised: attacking from the canopies didn't really work the same without trees.

The first kill had been luck; a small, slim snake had made the mistake of rushing over the sand in front of her at the wrong time, and a quick slash of her claws had ended it's life.

The rest had been the result of a mixture of skill and good timing. By the end up, she'd taken down a grondle, which was by far her proudest kill.

Now, Sapphira dumped their prey just inside the entrance of the cave and just off to the side. She could feel the stickiness of their blood on her wings, but there were few places nearby for her to wash it off, so for now, she would bear it.

Sapphira loomed over her sleeping companions. Sometimes, she could read auras, work out the future of certain creatures and determine whether or not they would do something of note with their lives. This ability was commonplace among dragons, something that they took for granted and used near constantly. Tonight, she was having no luck with her readings. Sapphira glowered at the sleeping forms, as if they were the reason she couldn't read them.

It was almost night now, and the sun was just creeping below the far-off sand dunes.

She stepped towards her companions, then thought better of it. The more sleep they got, the longer they'd be able to travel. There was still a short time left before they had to leave. Why not let them sleep through it?

She spun around and re-took her place at the cave entrance, resting against it now with her tail curled around herself. Her senses were still alert, there was no way she'd be able to sleep. Another flight sounded too good for her to even consider lying down.

Not long now, she reminded herself, turning her gaze on the sand outside once more.