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Despite how fast Fulgid could move, he was still a baby and he doubted the little dragon had the stamina to keep going on foot. Besides, it was less likely that his glittering scales could be seen from the air beneath the sack.
They kept moving at a steady pace the rest of the afternoon, picking more cattail roots when the passed through another marsh. There were berries in some of the low bush, which he grabbed by the handful and ate as they went. They didn’t fill his belly, but it helped keep his mouth moist.
They slowed to skirt around a large grassy plain because there were no places for cover if the dragon flew overhead. For half a mile they walked just inside the woods on the edge of the field before finally reaching the other side. Ruefully Ammon thought about how much time they could have saved by walking straight across, but the risk of being seen outweighed the benefits. Just beyond the field in the hollow of a dead tree, Ammon found a large bees nest, and he paused for a few minutes and tried to think of a way to extract some of the honey without getting stung. He decided not to and moved on. Running through the woods from an angry swarm of bees wasn’t going to help his situation at all.
As evening turned to twilight, it became increasingly difficult to travel. Long shadows blended with branches and roots that stung his face and tripped his feet. In the fading light he made his way towards a large tumble of rocks on a small hill. He would have to make camp for the night and would need a fire to cook the roots he had gathered. A fire out in the open, even under the trees would be a beacon in the night for anyone looking for him. He had no idea how well a dragon’s eyesight was, but he suspected they could see better in the dark than he could. With luck he would find a sheltered place under those rocks that would be fairly hidden from all directions.
T he dark outlines of the boulders loomed overhead, and as he got closer he could see a stone twice as tall as he was that leaning against a couple even large stones. Where they came together was a hollow that looked just big enough for him to crawl through. He strained his eyes as he hurried around the smaller, crumbled rocks, small trees, and thick brush that surrounded it.
He was almost there when he stumbled in the darkness. Slipping on the loose gravel, his right foot slid into a hole, and he fell to his side hard. A wrenching pain shot up his leg and he cried out as he clawed at the rocks with his fingers. In agony, he rolled to his stomach and used the staff to push himself upright. Gritting his teeth, he reached down with his right hand and wrenched his foot free. He stood still for several minutes gasping in agony as his foot hung limp. Was it broken? He couldn’t tell in the low light, but he could already feel it starting to swell and tighten against his thick leather boots. Now he needed that shelter more than ever. Using the staff, he gingerly placed his foot on the ground and immediately brought it back up as tears ran down his face. It was now too dark for him to see much further than a few feet in front of him; it would be hours before the sliver of moon would rise. Starting a fire out in the open to see his injuries was out of the question.
Silently he stood leaning heavily on the shaft and wondered if he could guess the direction of the rock opening. Suddenly the dragon shifted on his back, and he felt Fulgid jump to the ground. Even in the darkness, his golden scales shimmered faintly. He walked around in front of Ammon, his eyes glinting and then disappeared into the blackness to Ammon’s left.
“Oh great, now you decide to leave me?”
The dragon returned and gently gripped the staff in his teeth and pulled.
“Hey! Stop that! I’m barely standing as it is.”
Ammon had no choice but to hop on his good foot or risk falling again. As soon as he started moving, the dragon let go and walked a pace away before turning and looking at