Friendship in the Far South by Oridian

Friendship in the Far South

Oridian, Adventure, Aroused, Blizzard, Breeding, Camp, Cock, Consensual, Creampie, Cuddle, Cuddling, Cum, Cumshot, Deep Penetration, Deep Thrust, Desperation, Dick, Doggystyle, Dragon, Dragoness, Drake, Ejaculation, Emotional, Erection, Erotic, Explicit, Exploration, Explorers, Flight, Foreplay, Freezing, Frostbite, Hail, Heat, Humping, Ice, Impregnation, M/F, Magic, Male/Female, Mate, Mating, Orgasm, Paw, Paws, Penetration, Penis, Pussy, Quadruped, Scales, Science, Snow, South pole, Vagina, Vaginal, Vulva, Weather, Wings, Winter, chill, cold, danger, expedition, frost, frozen, outpost, polar, research, snowing, storm, survival

A storm is coming. Find your friends, hold them close, and try not to freeze.

Here we go, I finally finished one of those longer stories I was writing.

Synopsis: Harkwin is a scout, and one of more than a hundred drakken explorers on a pioneering mission to survey the far polar south. But a dangerous storm approaches the expedition, and he must choose between safety and duty. In times of extreme peril, the warmth of friendship burns all the brighter.

The cold is here.

We must survive.

The moment Harkwin stepped out of the shelter, a freezing gust of wind hit him from the side. Instinctively he used his magic--it felt like a sense of stored up power just _twisting_within him, and immediately the air around him went still. The effect of his air affinity didn't stretch far. Just a few body lengths away he could see the wind continuing to kick up snowflakes from the ground, but there wasn't time for him to stand around and admire the frozen landscape.

Stepping forward, Harkwin headed for the main command post of the camp. He wasn't the only one in motion--even though it was early in the morning, a wake-up bell was ringing and the entire camp was being kicked into action. All around, Harkwin could see other dragons making preparations against the oncoming storm. Some were moving supplies of food, fuel, or other resources into more easily accessible storage locations, while others were reinforcing the camp's structures and adding temporary covers over exterior doors and windows. All of it would be necessary to make it through the snowstorm. Blizzards were dangerous, but this wasn't the first time that the expedition had encountered such a storm.

As Harkwin headed briskly towards the main command post, each of his four paws left indentations in the snow-layered ground. Trails of pawprints marked out the common routes, left behind by dragons moving around Central Camp,. Harkwin could see his breath billowing forward in a vapour cloud with every exhale, illuminated clearly by the sunlight.

Even though it was early in the morning, the sun was shining already, as it had been ever since the expedition had first arrived in the far polar south. As a result of being so far from the planetary equator, the sun didn't rise and set normally but instead always moved about in a vast circle from right to left, never dropping below the horizon. It had been months since Harkwin had seen a night where the sky was properly dark, and this uninterrupted daylight was a feature of the far south which would remain for around half of every year.

And yet even in what was considered the summer months for the polar south, the temperatures were far, far below freezing in this extreme portion of the world. This place was cold and inhospitable, but Harkwin felt no discomfort from the temperature. He was a dragon--and like every dragon, magic ran thick through his body. His natural magical affinity was specific to air and to controlling the winds, but he also had a second, equal affinity to frost. That had been an obvious requirement for this expedition--everyone needed to have frost affinity to give them natural protection against the frigid temperatures. More than a hundred dragons were located here in the polar expedition's Central Camp, with about forty more stationed in various outposts scattered across the frozen landscape, and every single one of them had frost affinity.

However, even a dragon with frost affinity would still freeze when the blizzard came. There was cold, and then there was storm cold. This was the fourth blizzard that the expedition had encountered in as many months, and preparations were needed to survive the snowstorm. Forward weather stations had already sent back early predictions--at least three days of total whiteout conditions, and the temperature would drop so very far below freezing that even a dragon with frost affinity would be chilled to the bone.

Harkwin looked towards the horizon as he walked between a few of the grey, boxy, snow-covered buildings which made up Central Camp. Though he couldn't see it yet, he knew that coming from far away was an immense snowstorm bringing a sharp drop in temperature and harsh, unforgiving winds. For now the blizzard was not yet visible and the sky remained clear, but by the end of tomorrow the storm would have arrived.

On reaching his destination, Harkwin shoved the door's handle bar with his shoulder, pushing his way in. The inside of the main command post was a calm contrast to the windy, snow-covered landscape outside. But before Harkwin could entered the building itself, he first had to pass through a small antechamber with a double door system which prevented wind from blowing directly through, thus keeping hot air in and cold air out. A pair of dragons (researchers, according to the markings on their harnesses) were already in the antechamber, and Harkwin stepped aside to let them leave first. "Good morning," he said, politely bowing his head.

"Likewise to you. Have a good morning, and a good day too!" replied one of the researchers.

The other researcher didn't look as cheery. "It's never a good day when there's a storm coming."

"But it could still be worse," retorted his colleague. Then the two of them left the command post and headed out into the cold. The thick, heavily insulated door swung closed behind them with a thump.

Before Harkwin went any further beyond the antechamber, he paused for a brief moment to wipe his paws clean on the floor mat. Then he shook himself from snout to tail and dislodged snow which had been clinging to his body. Even with his magic keeping the air still, the wind had managed to kick up miniscule flakes of snow and blow them against his exposed, grey-coloured scales as he'd been walking outside. It had previously been believed that the far south was a cold, frigid, unchanging icy desert where everything was frozen forever and there was hardly ever any fresh snowfall, but the expedition had quickly learned that weather was very much active. There was wind, there was snow, and then there were the storms.

Past the entranceway, a wide staircase led sharply downwards to the underground space which was the main command post. As Harkwin trotted down the stairs, he unfurled his left wing and casually let the tip drag against the wall, feeling the smooth surface of the rock tunnel. Just as he was a dragon with frost and air dual affinity, there were also dragons on this expedition with both frost and _rock_affinity, and it had been their hard work and their magic which had excavated these basements and tunnel links. The rock had been dug out and then used to build the surface structures, forming the expedition's Central Camp.

Other than a trio of heated greenhouses which needed sunlight, most of Central Camp had actually been built underground in the form of basements. The buildings up above were just the tip of the structural iceberg, serving as entry points and also allowing for air ventilation and skylights. Most of the camp's buildings were connected underground by tunnels, but travelling by the surface was faster unless precluded by blizzard conditions.

Oil lamps dangled from the walls, casting steady illumination and small amounts of warmth, and with each step downstairs Harkwin could feel the temperature increasing from ground insulation provided by all the snow and rock above him. As he went down, he passed by several other dragons heading upstairs. Usually the general mood of the expedition was professional, courteous, and often friendly, but today there was little time for pleasantries. The storm was coming.

Just as the expedition's builder team was mostly comprised of dragons who had stone affinity (or the closely overlapping metal affinity) which thus enabled them to construct and maintain the expedition's structures, Harkwin's air affinity defined his tasks here. His ability to control the winds let him fly faster than other dragons, so over the past few months he had alternated between scouting new regions of the polar south to explore, as well as serving as messenger and courier between the various outposts which were set up away from Central Camp. Back in the City of Wings, the members of this expedition had been recruited from many different backgrounds--different ages, different clans, different magical affinities (though not everyone necessarily had a second affinity besides the frost affinity which they all shared)--but now that they were out in the polar south, and they all had to work together to survive and succeed in their mission.

The main area of the command post was bustling with activity, just as busy as the surface had been. Here was the operations room, where all the expedition's activities were coordinated from. Limited amounts of sunlight filtered in through skylights in the roof which were exposed to the surface, but most of the illumination came from oil lamps or enchanted lights glowing steadily with charged energy. The large underground chamber was roughly circular and divided up into several sectioned areas, with groups of dragons assembled in each area according to their vocation. Each specific section had a large circular indentation dug out of the ground, forming pits which had been filled with white-coloured sand.

Harkwin quickly made his way to the place where he belonged--the scout section. Eight other dragons were already waiting there, standing around their sand pit. Taking his place, Harkwin nodded to the other scouts as he sat back on his haunches. "Good morning, everyone. Did I miss anything?"

The dragon sitting to Harkwin's left side--a female with a short neck frill and scales of dull blue, going by the name of Drend--shook her head. "Not yet. Zhales and Crattevin are still eating breakfast, and Legrane is still speaking with the other leaders."

"Hmm. Ok."

Every dragon in the command post, Harkwin included, was wearing a flight harness--a simple grid of belts and pouches which ran over his smoothly-scaled body to help him carry objects while walking or in flight. Harkwin reached down for the chest pouch of his harness and took out a small clockwork pocket watch, which was specially designed to work in low temperatures. Checking the time, he was actually a few minutes early for the scheduled morning briefing. Casually he wound the pocket watch's springs back up, before slipping it back into the pouch.

Harkwin twisted his neck from side to side in a lazy stretch, and then he suppressed a yawn as he settled in to wait. Being a scout was all about being able to fly fast, yet patience and careful calculation were important to utilizing that speed correctly. Even with a storm coming, rushing into action without information or a plan was pointless.

This polar expedition was his life--it was all of their lives. Coming out here to the far, far south, away from the civilized (and less freezing) regions of drakken-controlled territory was something which would surely seem foolish and risky to someone less adventurous, but they all had a purpose here. Four months ago, one hundred and fifty dragons had flown out from the City of Wings on this expedition, carrying all the resources needed to set up a camp for exploration and investigation. The polar south was one of the most inhospitable regions of the entire world, and the purpose they all shared was to map out this frozen wasteland and see if there was anything of value or interest to be found here.

While still waiting around the sand pit with the other scouts, Harkwin turned his head and glanced towards the side of the room were all the team leaders were having their own meeting. He tried to identify all the dragons there, with partial success--there were representatives from all the different teams, including building, gardens, engineering, cartography, weather, and a multitude of specialist science research teams. The one person Harkwin was most familiar with was, as expected, a male dragon named Legrane, who was the leader of the scouts. Legrane had scales of a dark brown, and he was an older drake who was slightly into middle age. If Harkwin had to guess, he would have estimated Legrane's age to be about a hundred years old, which was quite a few times older than Harkwin.

While he was waiting, Harkwin glanced down and used the tip of his tail to flick away a few droplets of water which were clinging to his side--the melted remnants of a few snowflakes which he hadn't shaken off earlier. His scales were a plain, light-grey shade, with the occasional splotch of white which almost looked like snow, but was in fact just small patches of white scales that were a natural bicolour pattern. Whereas his sides and back were a light-grey shade, his chest was an off-white colouration which extended along his underbelly all the way to his tail, and that white colour covered his fore and hind paws too. Every dragon had their own colour and pattern, but Harkwin liked how he looked.

Overall, Harkwin reflected briefly, he was a fairly normal example of a young dragon. Four legs, two wings, serpentine tail, and for some reason a mad desire to venture out from civilization to roam and explore the unknown. Most would have satisfied their wanderlust by going on vacation into the countryside or by visiting the Outer Colonies, but he'd gone a bit further than that and joined an expedition to the inhospitable polar south. The would spend about a half year living here, and then most of the expedition would be packed up for a return flight to the City of Wings, as the polar summer finally ended and the long night began.

After a few more minutes of waiting, the expedition's various section leaders finished their meeting and dispersed to disseminate their information and orders to their own respective teams. By now the scouts had all arrived, bringing their full number to twelve (with their leader, Legrane, counting as thirteenth).

Legrane was a slightly larger dragon than average, and the scouts shifted so he could join their circle. "Everyone here? Good. We have no time to waste. Listen up, people! We have a storm coming and it will not be pretty." Without any delay, the scout leader went over to a control pedestal that rose up from the ground, right beside the sand pit they were all standing around. Sitting back on his haunches, Legrane used his paw to fiddle with the system and ripples suddenly flowed through the sand pit.

Grains of sand leapt up into the air and shifted about as if moved by an invisible wind, though constrained entirely within the boundaries of the sand pit. This was no simple contraption. The technical name for the sand pit was a light-field projector--a complex marvel of constructed magic and enchanted technology, using an advanced combination of stone and fire magic which caused colour-changing sand to display objects and other three-dimensional shapes. The sand shifted about into what appeared to be solid structures, forming a miniature model of the entire camp right in the sand pit.

Legrane paused for a moment to look around, making brief eye contact with every one of the scouts. "I hope everyone has had a good night's sleep, because there will be a lot of flying to be done today. This is the fourth storm that we have weathered through on this expedition, and it will not be our last. Now see here..."

The scout leader pressed a button to change the sand pit display. But instead of cooperating, the light-field projector suddenly sputtered and flickered. The miniature model of the camp rapidly ran through a full spectrum of colours before the shapes collapsed back into the blank formlessness of loose sand, and the machine went fully dark. Legrane growled and half-heartedly bared his teeth. "This blasted device! Engineering still has not fixed it? We ought to go commandeer their area and use their projector instead."

"Hah. I think the machine just doesn't like you, boss," retorted one of the other scouts.

Chuckles went around the assembled scouts, and Harkwin felt a flash of amusement. It wasn't entirely the fault of the engineering team--the dragons on this expedition had their frost magic to resist the cold, but some of the equipment had trouble with the low temperature environment even in the relatively warm area of the main command post,. Light-field projector systems relied on fire magic to heat up the tiny sand grains and change their colour, and exposure to extreme cold caused reliability issues.

Legrane took this entirely in stride. He activated the sand pit again and let the projector slowly start up. "Very well, then. While this thing is warming itself up, we shall take a moment of silence to remember those we lost to that first storm three months ago. I want everyone to respect the storms." The scout leader lowered his head in a bow. "Our moment of silence starts now."

There had been an aura of excitement and anticipation, but now the scouts all went quiet and sombre. Several of them also bowed their heads, as did Harkwin, following their lead. For all the adventurousness and thrill of exploring the far south, there was also a genuine danger to living here. Three months ago, just a few weeks after the Central Camp had first been set up along with a scattering of outposts, that first storm had taken them all by surprise.

That blizzard had been a humbling experience and a costly reminder that even dragons with frost affinity could still freeze to death. The polar expedition had started with a strength of one hundred and fifty, but that number had been cut down by ten. Of the ten who had perished, the majority had been in research outposts that lacked adequate insulation and heating to withstand either the fierce winds or the deep cold. However, there had also been three scouts who'd ended up lost in the storm. After a week, the storm had blown over and the frozen bodies of those scouts had been found buried in the snow, blown off course never to return home again. Harkwin hadn't been the one who'd found the frozen corpses of those scouts, but he'd seen their bodies carried back into Central Camp on slings, and everyone had attended the funeral where their bodies had been cremated. That had been an utterly miserable event which threw doubt and disheartenment into the entire expedition, but they'd all persevered in their goal.

At first the general consensus had been to assume (or perhaps to hope) that the first storm had just a freak event, but then five weeks later a second storm rolled over the polar expedition. This time they'd been more prepared and no one died. Waiting out the storm in Central Camp, Harkwin had spent a week shivering in the living quarters along with the other members of the expedition; but all things considered, it could have much worse. There had been a few cases of frostbite when the extreme winds had damaged buildings, but fortunately that had been in an outpost where a more sturdy underground structure had already been built. One builder had needed the very tip of her tail amputated after frostbite had threatened to become gangrene, but healers back in the City of Wings could probably regrow that when they all returned to civilization.

The third storm was where the expedition had finally been fully prepared. The teams at all but the most insulated outposts were recalled back to Central Camp, and supplies had been stockpiled as they huddled underground to wait out the blizzard. The buildings were reinforced against the winds, and the heaters were fuelled up to hold off the cold. Some of the members of the weather team had even dared to venture out briefly to take measurements during the storm, hoping to get some science before they ran back in minutes later, shivering and snow-covered.

And now a fourth storm was coming.

"Alright, enough remembering. There is much work to be done," Legrane said.

Harkwin raised his head from his bow, just in time to see their team leader adjust the projection, making the sand grains shift within their pit. The miniature model of the Central Camp had reformed properly and now at Legrane's command it shrunk down, instead becoming just a small marker as a map was displayed. The map resembled a view of what a dragon flying impossibly high above the world might have seen looking downwards, and it was properly detailed with geographical features such as cliffs, glaciers, icy fields of windswept permafrost, and snow-covered plains. Their current location in Central Camp was marked out exactly in the middle, surrounded by a vast sea of snowy white. There were also twenty other markers scattered all over the map, indicating outposts or research teams deployed away from the main camp.

"Central Camp is being fortified as we speak. The builders are adding emergency insulation and reinforcement to above-ground exterior areas, and the engineering team is bolstering the central heaters and stockpiling energy crystals. Most of that work is already done," Legrane continued.

"Good to hear that," muttered one of the scouts, and Harkwin couldn't agree more.

Legrane's calm expression didn't change. "Home will be warm and safe, but first, our work is in the cold. I need you all to fly, and fly fast." Legrane twisted a knob on the light field projector's control pedestal. The sand within the pit shifted again, adding another layer on top of the map. Instead of just geographical features, weather was now visible too. Thin wispy clouds appeared above some areas; and at especially windy areas, snow could be seen blown up from the ground by gusts. But the most significant change was a huge wall of grey clouds which suddenly appeared over the left extreme of the map--the storm was coming.

Harkwin stared silently at the displayed model of the storm, feeling a sense of dread. That storm system was dangerous, it was their enemy, and yet it was entirely impersonal. It was just a force of nature that they would have to survive.

"This storm is different from the three that we have faced previously," Legrane continued. "It appears to be rotating, which the weather worker team was excitedly babbling on about. What does that mean? I do not know. They do not know. No one really knows yet. But practically, it means this storm seems to be moving slightly faster than the other storms previous."

The scout sitting beside Harkwin spoke up. "Does that mean stronger winds?" Drend asked.

"Oddly enough, no. The winds are about as strong as storm number two, and the temperature will drop to about as cold as storm one. This is a big threat, but we have faced these conditions before. This time the difference is that this storm is moving faster, so it will be of much shorter duration. The weather team estimates that once the storm hits Central Camp, it will have passed over us completely within just two or three days."

Excited murmuring accompanied that announcement. "A short storm? That's good."

Legrane opened his wings and beckoned for quiet, which he got. "That is the good news. The bad news is that because the storm is moving faster, we do not have as much time to prepare as we expected. Previous estimates were that we would have two more days before the storm arrives. However, just yesterday evening we got the latest from the weather outpost over at Bluefall."

Harkwin found his gaze drawn to one particular marker on the map. Just like all the other scouts, he was familiar with the terrain and the relative locations of all the different outposts of the expedition, since it was their job to regularly travel to these places to act as couriers. The outpost at Bluefall was one of the four weather stations which gathered regular updates on the weather conditions that the expedition would be facing. Just yesterday night one of the other scouts had flown in from that outpost, bringing the latest data to Central Camp so a forecast of the storm could be made.

Legrane did something with the control panel and the projected map advanced forward in time quickly. The shadows cast by the sun swivelled through every angle as time passed, and that immense wall of grey clouds billowed across the whole map, enveloping everything. "The latest prediction is that preparation time is reduced by half a day. The storm will hit Central Camp by noon or late afternoon tomorrow, so we need to respond accordingly. The weather stations are well insulated and the needlemir exploratory dig is safe too because they can shelter deep in the mineshaft, but all other outposts must fall back to either to those safe outposts, or preferably back here to Central. With the storm hitting tomorrow midday, they must be back here by tomorrow morning. The actual time depends on the location of each outpost, of course."

"Your instructions are to fly out to the outposts and relay this information to them. I say again--tell them to be back at Central by mid-morning tomorrow, or at another safe outpost. Outposts 1, 3, 5, and 6 are weather outposts which are safe, as is the needlemir dig at 11." Legrane unslung the large pouch which was strapped to his back and opened it up, revealing that it was filled with hollow wooden cylinders--each cylinder was a capped scroll tube containing rolled-up messages which were to be sent to each outpost. The scout section leader switched the projected map back to the present, showing the current location of the storm, and then he started illuminating the outpost markers one by one. "Flight assignments are as follows: Outpost 2, Kamatsi. Outpost 4, Thayles. Outpost 7 and Outpost 8, Drend. Outpost 9..."

Harkwin watched as the different outpost markers were lit up one by one, and different scouts were assigned to inform each area. As Legrane called out the assignments, he passed off the scroll tubes to each scout, making sure that they got the correctly numbered message tube for their specific outpost. This was the standard routine every day, as scouts were assigned their flight destinations during the briefing.

On regular days, Harkwin's assignment was usually to Outposts 19 or 20--these were the newest outposts built by the expedition, and they were the furthest from Central Camp. Harkwin being the scout most often assigned to these distant outposts was, in a certain way, a mark of praise because it was a tacit admission that he was one of the fastest and most reliable scouts. There was no room for personal grudges or petty squabbles on this expedition, not when the environment was so hostile--and regardless, Harkwin didn't mind the long flights. In fact, he rather enjoyed them. Every dragon could fly, yet not every one of them was good at it; but he was.

Outpost 19 was a botanical research team which had set up next to an icy lake, from which the scientists were digging up frozen trees to investigate the plants which had once grown in the frozen far south, long ago in the past when it was not so inhospitable. Outpost 20 was just as scientific in nature, but from a different field of research that investigated hot springs and geothermal activity in a mountainous region of the far south. Each of these outposts was small with just a scattering of researchers assigned there, which made it all the more crucial to keep them updated and in communication with the expedition's main camp.

Staring down at the map, Harkwin smiled slightly as he kept daydreaming. Professionalism aside, he'd even made friends with plenty of the others on this expedition, and one of the junior researchers at Outpost 20 had become quite a close friend to him--

"...post 18 and Outpost 19, Garilasor. Outpost 20, Harkwin. Scouts, you have your flight assignments," Legrane finished saying.

Harkwin snapped back to the present. Hopping to his feet, he trotted over to Legrane and took the proffered message scroll tube. Before he could head back to his place around the sand pit, Legrane reached into a different pouch on his flight harness and took out a different, slightly thicker scroll tube meant for document storage in addition to simple messages.

"One more thing for you, Harkwin. After you send that message to Outpost 20, I want you to cross over through the mountain pass and head to Outpost 3--Bluefall Weather Station. Get the latest results they have."

Without hesitation, Harkwin took the second scroll tube offered to him. "Outpost 20, then Outpost 3. No problem, drak. I can do that."

"Excellent. The weather worker team here at Central is itching for more data on the storm. And given the latest wind estimates, there should be a strong headwind for you all the way from Outpost 20 to 3."

Harkwin looked back to the map again, with all its various markers indicating the different outposts. Outpost 20 was the geothermal research outpost (the hot springs) which was the newest and furthest outpost away from Central Camp. Outpost 3 (the Bluefall Weather Station) wasn't as far away from Central, but it was in a roughly similar direction so he could just alter his course allowing him to pass by the weather station on his return trip from Outpost 20. That weather station was almost directly in the direction of the oncoming storm, so it therefore had the best weather data. Yesterday morning a different scout had flown to that outpost to pick up the updated information, but now it would be his responsibility.

Legrane looked around. "Those are your assignments, scouts. Get those messages delivered. Does anyone have any pressing questions?"

"Do we have the latest winds and weather conditions?" asked one of the other scouts.

Legrane tapped a button on the light field projector, and small markings were added all over the sand pit to indicate supposed wind directions predicted from the last batch of weather data. "As shown. Winds should be mostly quiet today, except for an irritating case of gusts right at Central which might make takeoff a bit dicey. Other than that, expect smooth, easy flying--at least until tomorrow, when that storm comes and the winds will kill. Any more questions?"

"Drak, if we fly fast, do we get extra rations?" asked one scout, smirking at their leader.

Legrane raised an eye ridge. "Once that storm hits we will be totally grounded and unable to fly. If you get double rations you will end up fat. Whether you want to be fat is a question left for your conscience to answer. Any proper questions? No? Then I shall see you all back here by this afternoon. Fly fast and fly well, scouts!"

Harkwin slipped the message scrolls into a large pouch of his flight harness, then he hopped to his feet. "Fly well," he echoed, as did the others.

Harkwin wasted no time. He scampered up the stairs taking several at a time, and then he pushed out through the command post's doors and into the snowy outdoors. He didn't really think he was an impatient dragon; it was just that he didn't like wasting his time.

"Are you in some sort of rush?" asked Zhalin, one of the other scouts, who was walking up the stairs at a pace which wasn't so frantic.

"You know how it goes! Harkwin's faster than you--he makes a better scout," retorted yet another of the scouts, whose name was Drend, in what might or might not have been a joke.

"Oh, of course. Harkwin's fast, sure. When I was his age I was just as impatient and full of energy. But now I have lost all my youthful vigour and become old and slow," Zhalin replied, in what was definitely a sarcastic joke. She wasn't old. Even Legrane wasn't old, and he was more than a hundred years old.

Harkwin wasn't sure how to respond to this joking about at his expense, so he didn't try. Expedition members came in a wide scope of ages--ranging from older dragons come to utilize their decades (or sometimes centuries) of experience with research, building, and other useful skills, all the way down to younger dragons such as himself, who were just here more for the adventure and the excitement of it all. One of the good things about being a scout was that experience and age was of limited use in their vocation, so the scouts all treated each other as complete equals despite their differences. In comparison, Harkwin had heard from some of his friends in other vocations that their team hierarchies were stricter and more formal--for example in the science teams, the senior researchers were clearly the bosses over the junior researchers, since they'd been doing science for potentially so much longer.

But such things were hardly unusual, and at this instant they all had far more important things to be concerned about. The storm was coming. Standing in the snow, Harkwin first took a moment to slowly spread open his wings and take in the surroundings, getting a feel of the wind direction and making sure that he wouldn't hit anyone as he took off. Winds were still gusting about the Central Camp and kicking up snowflakes, but this wasn't anywhere near bad enough to prevent flight, especially for dragons with air affinity.

The other scouts had all come out of the command post as well, and Legrane waved at them to go. "Come now! Less joking about and more flying, people. We can joke and laugh over dinner when those messages are all delivered. Fly!"

"Two destinations today... Outpost 20, the hot springs, then Outpost 3, Bluefall Weather Station," Harkwin muttered quietly to himself, fixing the locations and the flight course in his mind. Then he sprinted forward and leapt upwards, throwing his wings open to catch the air. The sharp downdraft from his wings sent flakes of snow spinning in the wind. That first initial leap into the air was always the most exciting as suddenly the ground beneath his paws was just gone, and nothing but the pull of his wings was keeping him up. As he beat his wings hard to rapidly gain altitude, Harkwin briefly glanced back and saw the other scouts leaping into the air as well.

For a moment, the young, light-grey scaled dragon circled around the camp, taking in the sight of all the buildings. Dragons could be seen moving from point to point within the camp, but from above they looked small--in fact, the whole camp looked small from the air, almost like the miniature sand pit models used in the command post for briefings.

From the air, Central Camp was visually understated. It resembled a collection of boxy grey buildings made from metal, stone, or concrete, barely standing out against a vast field of snow and ice. The greenhouses were the only buildings which weren't grey, as they were made from clear glass, but now they were already being covered up by in preparation for the storm. There was a flash of bright light as one dragon (with flame affinity) used his firebreath to soften the edge of one metal sheet, then another dragon (with metal affinity) used her magic to manipulate the structural element into place for a weld.

Circling about was not simply to ponder and reflect on life. As Harkwin flapped his wings hard to keep gaining altitude, he took this moment to orientate himself and make sure he knew which direction was which. Flight navigation in the far south was significantly more complicated than just standard flying back in the normal drakken-controlled territories. The outposts were all in different directions away from Central Camp, yet they all were northwards because this was the polar far south. The expedition was literally almost as far south as was possible, so everywhere else was northwards from here.

And this wasn't just a terminology problem--it was a practical one too. Normally dragons relied on natural compasses inside their heads to get a sense of direction, but that would not work here. Instead, that natural sense of direction just unhelpfully pointed right down towards the magnetic pole and the molten planetary core which created that magnetic field. Worse yet, it was hard to rely on the sun to get an idea of direction, because it did not simply rise from the east to set in the west, but just spun around and around in all directions. To navigate by the sun, Harkwin needed to keep checking his pocket watch for the time, as well as constantly recalculating the correct angles.

But these challenges just made success more enjoyable. Tilting his wings, Harkwin began his journey flying off towards Outpost 20. He knew the way based on landmarks and other more reliable navigational cues, and this was a common flight route for him.

Harkwin glanced back briefly at the camp he'd just left, and he caught sight of his fellow scouts all flying off in various directions, spreading out to many different outposts to deliver information about that incoming storm. Meanwhile the camp itself was busy with activity as builders worked at construction, and other preparations for the storm continued.

As Harkwin gained altitude and distance from Central Camp, he summoned that inner sense of _power_which had been with him ever since he'd grown up and developed air affinity. Reaching out all around him, he pulled on the air and it obeyed, pushing him forwards with even greater speed. Outpost 20 would be about four hour's flight away, then another three hour's flight to circle around to Outpost 3 and get the latest data they had, before finally another three hour flight back to Central Camp with those weather predictions. All in all, he would return by mid to late evening--a typical day's flying, all normal for a scout in the polar expedition, living and working in the far south.

It was a joy to fly, and it was an even greater joy to fly fast. The air rushed and swept across his wings, carrying him away from Central Camp and out into the bleak wilderness.

Being a scout could be a lonely job at times. Though scouts were all based in Central Camp with the other members of the expedition, their tasks involved being all alone in the skies for much of the day.

Harkwin flapped his wings, holding a steady beat even as his air magic pushed him forward. While flying, he took the time to look down at the frozen, desolate landscape he was flying over--the far polar south was bleak and barren, with snow and ice layered thickly over the world. There was undoubtedly some monotony to his job as he flapped his way through the air, with his only company being the wind and clouds.

Over the course of several hours he flew out from Central Camp, passing by a few notable landmarks which served as route markers on the way to Outpost 20--various things such as a narrow mountain pass shaped in a stretched V, a glacier made from blue ice which was ever so slowly sliding down a hill, vast frozen lakes, and even a big rock monolith which was tall enough to be visible out of the snow like a pillar of oddly angular grey. The far south was bleak but occasionally beautiful, though he didn't slow to admire the frozen sights.

As was proper procedure for a scout, Harkwin would occasionally take out his pocket watch from his chest pouch to check how fast he was flying. His watch had a short metal chain which tied it to his harness, so he wouldn't lose the timepiece even if it slipped from his paw whilst in flight. Everything was on schedule.

As he sped across the polar landscape, the sky remained mostly clear and there was no turbulence to hinder his journey. After about two and a half hours of flight time, the ground far below started to change--instead of flattened plains, the terrain grew increasingly hilly, though it remained exactly as snowy and cold as before. Harkwin mentally ticked another waypoint from his mental map of his flight path, and he changed heading slightly to continue towards Outpost 20. Up ahead in the distance, he could already see the hills continue to rise in height as the terrain gradually grew bumpy and uneven.

Within another hour of flying through the polar highlands, Harkwin was coming to the end of his journey--or at least, the first portion of his journey. At some point within the last hour, the hills had transitioned into mountains, though there was no clear point which demarcated mound from mount. However, it was undoubtable that Harkwin was now flying amongst mountains--before he could easily soar high above the hills, but now the mountain peaks stretched so tall that it was simpler to fly around instead of above them.

The sky was no longer as clear as before. Puffy whitish clouds stuck to some of the mountain peaks, and increasingly the air was turbulent and bumpy as Harkwin flew on. The scout continued to follow along the familiar mountain ridges, tracing snow-filled valleys and flying past rocky grey cliffs.

Finally, about three and a half hours after he'd first left Central Camp, Harkwin was almost at Outpost 20. Flying through one final mountain pass, a large bowl-shaped area came into view, nestled between several taller mountain peaks. From previously speaking with some of the scientists at Outpost 20, Harkwin knew that this whole area was a summit crater--long ago this area had been an active volcano, but then at some geologically ancient time the volcano had run out of magma and its top had collapsed inwards, forming a huge circular depression in the ground. The floor of the summit crater was still much higher than in the flatlands, but it was surrounded on all sides by taller mountains which made it look lower by comparison.

At one particular spot in the summit crater, Harkwin could see coloured patches on the ground that were completely flat--these were hot springs, where pockets of underground water were heated and bubbled up through the rock surface, forming small pools. In the far polar south, lakes and rivers tended to be covered by ice, but here there was liquid water exposed to the surface. Clouds of vapour were visible from these springs, slowly rising up into the air and marking the location from afar.

Right beside the hot springs there was a series of small, triangular tents, bright orange in colour and standing out from the whitish snow surrounding them--this was the geothermal research station, Outpost 20. Harkwin went into a glide, trading his accumulated altitude for speed as he descended towards the outpost. While still channelling his air affinity, he took out his pocket watch and checked the time--it was just under four hours from when he'd first left. The usual expected timing for this flight was four-and-a-half to four-and-a-quarter hours, but he'd done it faster than the scout average.

Tilting his wings, Harkwin altered his flight path to avoid the water vapour clouds rising from the hot springs--there was nothing toxic about the water, but it was general good practice to avoid flying through clouds. In the far south, letting water droplets accumulate on his body and wings could quickly lead to icing, which was at best, inconvenient, and at worst, dangerous.

As he came in for landing, Harkwin took a deep breath and let out a cheerful roar to announce his presence. "Skkryyaahh!" Dragons often roared on take-off or landing just to make sure that any other dragons nearby knew they were here, so as to avoid potential collisions--not that this was necessary given how deserted this area was, but it was fun to be loud.

Harkwin's roar was clearly audible around the outpost, and a few seconds later a dragon stuck her head out from one of the tents. Harkwin smiled as he recognized her--a female dragon with scales of sandy, beige colour, and a short vertical crest fin which extended from the back of her head and ran down her neck--her name was Nacen, and she was one of the researchers who worked at the outpost.

Nacen glanced around as she tried to locate the source of the roar, and she quickly spotted Harkwin flying in. Stepping out of the tent, she sat back on her haunches and unfurled a wing to wave it at him. Harkwin rolled from left to right, rocking his wings to return her wave.

With a slightly dramatic flap of his wings, Harkwin touched down right in the middle of the three tents of Outpost 20, just a few steps away from Nacen. Instead of cutting off his magic before landing, he let his power continue for a few seconds, creating a short gust of wind which made his wings flap dramatically. The tents fluttered slightly in the breeze he'd created, as did Nacen's crest fin. She looked amused, and possibly impressed--at least until the gust of wind kicked up some snow from the ground.

"Heey!" Nacen let out a surprised chirp and jumped backwards, but she still ended up showered by a flurry of snowflakes. She shook herself all over, dislodging the snow from her body. "You did on purpose! Got me all snowy," she grumbled, though she didn't seem actually upset.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harkwin replied. He flicked his wings, then furled them up neatly onto his back and trotted over to Nacen.

"You just like to show off your air affinity, don't you?" Nacen tried to scoop up a ball of snow and toss it at Harkwin, but even at close range a dragon's paws weren't very good with throwing objects. Her snowball missed. "One day I'll get you with _my_affinity, just you wait."

If Harkwin recalled correctly, Nacen had double affinity of frost and water. As with all dragons on the polar expedition she was resistant to the cold, but she also had the ability to control liquid water--but not ice or snow, which meant it wasn't very useful since there wasn't liquid water anywhere... except for at the hot springs here.

"When this expedition is over and we're both back in civilization, we can go relax on a nice warm beach and you can splash me with a wave--haih!" Harkwin let out a yelp when Nacen jabbed his ribcage with the tip of her tail. "Don't tickle me! That's not professional."

Nacen tried to poke him again with the tip of her tail, but Harkwin quickly unfurled a wing to protect his sides. "Professional?! You just covered me with snow! You... that's..." Nacen tapped her forepaws against the ground, looking simultaneously annoyed but amused.

Harkwin sat back on his haunches and curled his neck into a graceful S. "Now what was I saying? Ah, yes. Hello! I bring you an important message from Central Camp."

Nacen tilted her head, and she grinned. "Hello to you too. Good to see you again, Harkwin. Welcome to Outpost 20--the remotest and loneliest of all our expedition's many outposts."

Harkwin recalled his mental map of the terrain. "Remotest... is possibly true, since this outpost is so far away from Central. But loneliest? Nah. Outpost 3 and Outpost 8 are just through the mountain pass to the east, a few hours flight away. This outpost isn't lonely. I'd say that outpost 17 is lonelier than here--there's nothing there but a big, big empty ice field that stretches on for leagues."

Nacen's grin got marginally wider. "Perhaps when I was speaking of this outpost being lonely, I was referring not to its location relative to other outposts, but describing its inhabitants? Or more accurately, inhabitant."

"Oh, but I'm sure everyone on the expedition is lonely. We're all so very far away from civilization, after all," Harkwin said to her. Then his mind caught up and processed a bit more of what she'd just said. "Wait, inhabitant? You're all alone here? What happened to uh... Montess... Montessin... those other two researchers who were here with you? The two geologists."

Nacen raised an eye ridge, looking amused. "Did you forget their names?"

"Possibly," Harkwin admitted. "I think one of them was named Montesseran? And the other was maybe... Quadrali-something?"

"Incorrect, though I do agree their names are too long and hard to remember."

"You're more interesting than them anyway," Harkwin said, and Nacen looked pleased on hearing this. Her crest fin perked up slightly.

"Anyway, the other two researchers left this outpost about two days ago," Nacen explained. "They flew over to Outpost 8 because apparently the ice-core samples were showing some interesting mineral traces, and they just left me here to keep monitoring the data. Typical--the senior researchers fly over when they hear about some curious new development, but I have to stay here and keep this outpost staffed." Nacen glanced in the direction of the hot springs, away from the outpost. "I've been all on my lonesome over here, just taking more samples and recording geothermal activity. Typical life of a junior researcher..."

"That does sound lonely," Harkwin agreed, nodding sympathetically. As a scout, he did have to spend most of his days flying alone, but at the end of the day at least he could spend his free time in Central Camp with the rest of the scouts and all the expedition staff located there. In comparison, outpost teams sometimes had to spend entire weeks at their respective outposts, which usually had only just a few other researchers. It sounded like a lonely job, living even further out in the bleak polar south than even Central Camp.

"Oh, but at least you won't be too lonely for the next few days," Harkwin added. Sitting back on his hinds, he took out the scroll tube from his harness pouch and passed it over to Nacen. "Here you go! Message tube delivered--my job here is done."

"So you only came here to deliver a message? And here I was hoping that you liked flying here to talk with me."

"It can be both! Talking with you is pleasant," Harkwin replied.

"Hmm. So what's this message?" Nacen took the scroll tube from him and tried to get it open.

Harkwin watched as Nacen struggled to open the tube's cap. "Do you need help with that?"

"No, I do not. I'm an independent, capable drakka who is... I'm entrusted with the responsibility to keep this whole outpost fully operation and running scientific research nonstop. One mere scroll tube is no match for me. Arrrgh... Did you deliberately screw this cap on tight?!"

"I did not," Harkwin reassured her.

After some fiddling about with her claws, Nacen managed to get a good grip on the tube to unscrew it. She made a victorious sound. "Hah! There we go. I told you I could do it."

Harkwin slapped his tail against the ground, making an applauding thump against the snow. "Yay! Congratulations. Wow, you're so _good_at this!" he said, teasing her slightly with excessive praise for what was admittedly quite a minor action.

Nacen smiled, and she dipped her head in a bow. She clearly recognized his teasing, and reacted by being just as sarcastic back towards him. "Thank you very much! I knew all my years of studying and training would prepare me for grand challenges such as this one. So what's the message about?" Nacen tugged out the rolled up length of paper and started reading.

Harkwin didn't know exactly how the expedition leaders had phrased it, but he knew the general gist of the message from his morning briefing. "The storm's coming faster than expected, and you are officially ordered to evacuate by tomorrow morning."

"Hmm, already? When you last came here three days ago, you said that the storm was five days away? I thought we had two more days." Nacen reached the bottom of the paper and turned it around, but the other side was blank. She flipped it back around and quickly reread the message. "Evacuate to Central Camp or Outpost 3 by tomorrow morning... Hmm. That's definitely an acceleration of the timeline. Not that I'm complaining! I do love all this science, but it is really so lonely out here all alone."

Though he'd never admitted it, Harkwin liked watching Nacen as she worked. She always seemed quick, slightly impatient, and coolly confident--just like him, although admittedly Nacen was also highly intelligent too. And pretty. "I didn't even know the science teams allowed outposts to be operated by just one dragon," Harkwin commented.

Nacen shrugged her shoulders, making her wings bob up and down. "We don't have enough scientists, so we make do. This isn't even the first time. I'd say that out of the past month since we set up this outpost, the senior researchers have just left me alone here for about half of the time? It's not like this outpost has great science. It's mildly interesting, but not exactly ground-breaking stuff going on here."

Harkwin chuckled. "Haha, ground-breaking."

Nacen laughed too, then she looked confused as to why she'd laughed. "Haha... what? I don't get it."

Harkwin laughed again, louder this time, amused by Nacen's confused look. "Hahah! Ground breaking? This is... you've told me before that these hot springs are because this area here used to be seismically active and volcanic, yes? So volcanic means it's literally ground-breaking. Were you not trying to make a pun?"

Nacen's brow furrowed as she thought about this, then she snorted and broke out into giggles. "Pfft, I suppose it is ground-breaking, literally." Rolling up the message, she stuffed it back into the scroll tube and slipped it into a pouch of her own flight harness. Turning around, she nodded towards the tent she'd just stepped out of--the tent was large enough to provide living and working space for one or two dragons, though it was thinly insulated. Inside the tent, Harkwin could also see a simple portable table with several logbooks and glass test tubes, along with a set of scientific-looking equipment, and a sleeping bag.

"Want to come in?" Nacen offered. "I've just finished taking another set of water samples. There are traces of dissolved needlemir, and even a trace of telanium. It's... well I'm not going to pretend that this is all super interesting. It's just hot water with some minerals which is bubbling out of the ground. But it is science!" Nacen paused, looking slightly embarrassed. "I was also boiling some water for tea, if you're interested?"

Much as he would enjoyed sharing a drink and listening to Nacen talk about her latest research, Harkwin shook his head. "I'd like to, but my mission isn't done. I've got to fly again and rush over to Bluefall Weather Station to pick up the latest storm predictions."

Nacen's crest fin drooped slightly, partially flattening onto the top of her head. "Oh. Are you leaving already? The mission comes first, I suppose. Storm prediction data sounds important."

"It is important. The storm is just a day away, after all."

"Yeah I... I suppose you should go then." Nacen seemed uncertain for a moment. "You're the only scout who ever chats with me, you know? Most of the others just hand over the message scroll and fly right off. So thanks for that. And the other researchers aren't fun to talk with--they're just so focused on the work, and most of them are much older than me, not like you. I wish we had more time to talk."

Harkwin smiled back. "I like talking with you too. Take care of yourself, Nacen! I'll see you back in Central." He unfurled his wings and spread them open, then he turned to go.

Stepping forward, Nacen lifted a forepaw towards him--at first Harkwin wondered if she was going to try poking his side again for some reason, but Nacen just brushed off some snow that had gotten stuck to his hindquarters. Then she backed off to give him space for take-off. "I'll see you in Central. Fly safe," Nacen murmured.

"You too." With that parting remark, Harkwin leapt into the air again and climbed away. "Kryyah!" He let out a proud roar as he flew off, declaring his presence to the world.

"Ryah!"

Harkwin grinned as he heard Nacen respond with a roar of her own, but then there was no more time to waste, and he headed on for the mountain pass at the eastern side of the summit crater. As the air around him rippled with magical power, Harkwin channelled his air affinity and flew on for his next destination--Outpost 3, the Bluefall Weather Station.

Right before he entered through the eastern mountain pass and left the summit crater, Harkwin glanced back to look over the hot springs and the outpost tents beside them. He could still see a sandy beige dragon standing in the outpost--Nacen was too far away for Harkwin to tell if she was looking this way, but he rocked his flight path from side to side, and he saw her unfurl her own wings and wave at him in return. That sight made him grin, and he felt disproportionately happy that Nacen was watching him. Then the winds swept him into the mountain pass and a ridge obscured his view.

Following along a narrow valley between the mountains, Harkwin flew on towards Outpost 3. The winds had been light and gentle through most of his journey so far, but now a strong tailwind swept through the mountain pass and accelerated his flight through the curving valleys, pushing him forwards with surprising speed. Harkwin had flown this route several times before, yet now the winds seemed exceptionally strong--but this wasn't any problem for him, and being able to fly faster than expected was a positive thing.

The scout took out his pocket watch again to check the time. It was just after midday, and it would be about three hours before he reached Outpost 3--the Bluefall Weather Station. Keeping his pocket watch, Harkwin instead reached for a different pouch of his flight harness and took out a ration bar of compacted dried nuts and fruit, which he slowly munched on as he kept flying. Eating lunch on the wing wasn't anything unusual for a scout, though Harkwin idly wished that he'd thought about taking lunch at Outpost 20 before he'd flown off. There would have been crates of proper food rations there, and probably a small heater to cook with--not as fancy as the cookhouse back in Central Camp, but still better than a simple ration bar eaten alone while flying. Perhaps he shouldn't have been in such a rush to get on with his task.

Plus, he could have had lunch with Nacen. Nacen was a nice person--he hadn't known her before the expedition, but they'd quickly become friends on the flight out from civilization. At first she'd been assigned to do research at Central Camp, and the two of them would occasionally eat a meal together, but then one month ago Nacen had been posted out to Outpost 20. Fortunately, Harkwin ended up being the scout assigned to keep the new outpost in communication with Central Camp, which meant he could still meet his friend ever now and then.

Harkwin munched on his ration bar, then he sped up his wings beats and focused on flying again. Reminiscing aside, he had a mission to complete.

After about an hour of flight, Harkwin left the polar highlands and re-entered the icy midlands. There was still the occasionally hill, but here the ground mostly smoothened out. Without the mountain ridges obscuring his view, he finally got a proper look at the horizon. What he saw was not reassuring.

At first the sky had been clear blue in all directions, but gradually it began to darken. Even as Harkwin kept flying, he started to see an immense wall of grey clouds which was the approaching blizzard. At such a vast distance it was difficult even to get a proper scale of it--all those clouds just looked grey and foreboding, even if he knew that up close there would be dangerous levels of ice and snow, along with hostile winds and an extreme temperature drop.

Instinctively Harkwin felt a surge of awe at the distant sight of the storm--there was so much moving air, so much water, so much stored energy held up in all those immense cloud formations, sweeping across the world towards him with inexorable slowness. Flying into a storm was dangerously foolish, yet Harkwin flew on without missing a single wing beat. The storm's sheer size was misleading, making it seem closer that it really was. The fact that it stretched so vertically high into the upper atmosphere also made it easier to see from afar; visible much earlier than that distant weather outpost he was headed towards.

Yet even as he kept flying, the storm seemed all the more closer. Harkwin nervously checked his pocket watch and found that he'd been flying for just over two hours. It should take him about three hours to reach Bluefall Weather Station, which meant he was two-third of the way there. Even looking ahead now, Harkwin felt uneasy from how close he was to the blizzard. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the air seemed colder as he approached the storm.

What definitely was _not_his imagination was the strong tailwind which started to pick up. Normally a tailwind was good for flying--it meant that the air was blowing in the same direction a dragon was flying (from their tail), which meant that flying would be easier and faster than usual. But now Harkwin felt like it was the storm system dragging him in, pulling him towards all those ominously grey clouds. His instincts screamed at him to alter course.

Was he really going to keep flying for another full hour, right towards that monstrosity of a storm?

Shaking his head, Harkwin refused to be cowered. His mission was to reach Bluefall Weather Station to get their data, and that was exactly what he was going to do. Again he tried to reassure himself--as Legrane had told all the scouts during this morning's briefing just a few hours ago, the storm was still a while off. There would be ample time for him to reach the Bluefall Weather Station and get their information. Or at least, that was what the projections had shown. There was plenty of time for everyone to prepare for the storm, and nothing to be worried about.

Harkwin ignored the cooling air temperatures and he tried to ignore that slowly increasing wind. He kept flying as fast as he could, racing through the skies to get his task done.

Just a quarter of an hour later, Harkwin was having serious doubts. The storm stretched from horizon to horizon, splitting the world into two--clear blue behind him, and an immense wall of dark grey up ahead. The sun was still dimly shining, and its direction meant that the grey clouds of the blizzard cast long shadows on other clouds as it slowly swept forward. Vast and powerful, the storm system's sheer size meant that it hardly even seemed to be moving, despite the strong winds which were blowing those clouds around. The air was noticeably colder than before, and the winds were now starting to push him off course and to the side. Instead of just a tailwind, wind shear was making it hard to fly steady and level.

The Bluefall Weather Station was still most of an hour away and not even in sight yet. Harkwin's determination to fly onwards was rapidly eroding in direct proportion to time spent looking at the storm, but he forced himself to keep moving forward. He had a task and he was going to get it done.

But then out of the darkening sky ahead, Harkwin caught sight of something moving. Back in the more temperate regions of the world, the sight of movement in the skies could possibly have been a bird, bat, griffin, or other flying creature, but here it could only be one thing--another dragon.

Coming from up ahead, a dragon with dark blue scales was furious beating their wings, approaching but flying on a different heading which was right towards Central Camp. Recalling his map of all the outposts, Harkwin made the logical assumption that this new dragon must be coming from his current destination--the Bluefall Weather Station--as there weren't any other outposts in this specific area. The closest other outpost was the hot springs at Outpost 20, but that was almost directly behind him. Tilting his wings, Harkwin changed course to intercept.

High up in the sky, it took a few minutes for the two dragons to close in on each other, even with how fast they were both flying. Of course, Harkwin was flying faster because he had air affinity and could use magic to give him an advantage with the winds, whereas this other dragon wasn't a scout and couldn't do any such thing. Squinting at the other dragon, Harkwin tried to see if he could recall having seen them at the Bluefall outpost before. Bluefall was staffed by four weather workers, and vaguely Harkwin though this dragon looked familiar.

As they came into relatively short distance, the two dragons both went into a circling pattern flying around each other. Harkwin was about to shout out a greeting when the other dragon spoke first. "You're flying the wrong way!" she yelled at him.

"I'm headed towards Outpost 3! Bluefall Weather Station--" Harkwin started to reply, but the weather worker cut him off.

"Are you blind?! There's a storm! Turn around and head for Central!" she shouted, sounding a bit panicked. Wasting no more time, the weather worker broke out of the circling pattern and flew on in the direction towards Central Camp.

Harkwin hesitated for a moment, then he turned around and flapped his wings to chase after her. Which his air affinity, he caught up to her with ease. Flying alongside her, Harkwin got her attention again. "Hey! Are you from Bluefall? I was sent from Central Camp to get the latest weather data from the outpost!"

The weather worker had been beating her wings hard, but now she looked surprised and her flight slowed just a bit. "You're too late, scout! Storm Four is here! Can't you see it? Can't you feel it? The outer boundaries of the storm have already reached Bluefall. We've sealed up the station to survive the storm, but I volunteered to be the one to warn Central. Even as I was leaving, it was so windy that I almost crashed on take-off. What a day... What a terrible day."

Harkwin didn't know what to make of this. He glanced behind, then decided that there was no way he was going to fly into that immense storm if it had already reached Bluefall. However, that would contradict what he'd been told this morning. "But... but the predictions from yesterday were that the storm wouldn't reach Bluefall until much later today, or tomorrow morning--"

"Wrong. All wrong. This storm is different from the previous storms we saw. It's not slowing down even though it hit land." The weather worker shook her head desperately, and she patted one of the pouches of her flight harness. "You're the scout sent to collect today's weather data? I have that data right here. We need to fly back to Central Camp now to tell them what's happening with the storm. It's faster than all the other storms, faster than our previous predictions. Maybe even faster than anything we thought possible."

Harkwin was no expert on weather, but he'd learned a few basics during flight school as a fledgling, and after developing air affinity and becoming a scout he'd also learned more about wind to help him fly faster. "But... So the storm is... Can we still outfly it?"

"We can! It's a fast storm, but dragons still fly quicker." The weather worker started beating her wings faster again. "We'll make it back to Central Camp just fine," she muttered, though there was a worried tone in her voice.

"Huh." Harkwin left out a huff of nervously held breath. If the storm was faster than expected, then the whole expedition would have less time to prepare for it. The outposts would have less time to evacuate. Even as he kept pace with the weather worker, Harkwin stared off in the direction of the highlands--Outpost 20 was amongst those distant, snow-covered mountains. Besides Outpost 3, it would also be one of the earliest to be hit by the storm.

There was a choice to be made--should he try to fly to Outpost 20 to warn Nacen? But the winds weren't in his favour, and there were many other outposts which would need to know. He had to get the data back to Central Camp. With his decision made, he rushed to put it into action.

"Ok. Ok. Change of plans, then... What's your name?" Harkwin asked

"Jiwu, from Mintaka clan," replied the blue-scaled dragon. "And you?"

"I'm Harkwin, of clan Taslin. Let's get back to Central." Flapping his wings, Harkwin pulled ahead. Reaching into a special pouch of his flight harness, he took out a long coil of rope and tossed it out. At one end the rope had a metal carabiner clip, and the other end was attached onto Harkwin's flight harness. The rope was strong but lightweight enough to trail behind him as he flew, pulled by the stream of wind which his magic was creating. "Ok Jiwu, I'll tow you fast. Have you done this before? Hook yourself up and fly right behind me."

"I've done an aerotow before." Tilting her wings, Jiwu lined herself up so she was trailing about three body lengths behind Harkwin, and then she grabbed that rope he was dangling behind him.

Although relatively rarely done, it was possible for scouts to use their air affinity to increase not just their own flight speed, but also to tow other dragons along with them to speed up their combined flight. It was tiring, inefficient, and not quite as fast as a scout flying alone, but it was still faster than a dragon flying on wingpower alone--at least for as long as the scout still had the strength to channel their magic.

Harkwin curled his head around, watching Jiwu as she clipped the carabiner ring at the end of the rope onto her own flight harness, right at the central supporting strap over her chest. "Just let me... Got it!" she announced.

"Ok. I'll pull you along, but don't forget to flap your wings still," Harkwin told her. Then he once again called that power inside him, and the winds around swept them back towards the Central Camp.

Harkwin wasn't used to flying with someone else. The vast majority of his flights during the expedition had been by himself, using his air affinity to speedily travel between Central Camp and the various outposts. With that rope connecting his flight harness to Jiwu's, he used his magic to tug her and pull them both along right back towards Central. This was a tiring process that felt slow compared to how fast he could fly alone, but it was necessary.

The two dragons flew in silence, both not bothering to make conversation as they put their focus onto travelling quickly and efficiently. When Harkwin occasionally glanced back over his shoulder, it was only to check on the progress of the storm. Much to his relief, he was pulling away from that dreadful wall of immense grey clouds--even if the storm was fast, it wasn't faster than him.

Despite being slowed down by having to do an aerotow, the journey back towards Central Camp seemed to pass faster than the journey out had. When Harkwin checked his pocket watch, he confirmed that this was his own misperception of time--he was definitely flying slower, but the journey seemed less tedious because he no longer had to fly straight towards the imminent, ominous grey of the storm.

By the time they were on final approach to Central Camp, Harkwin was feeling the strain of having performed an aerotow. His wing muscles were starting to ache, and having used twice the air magic as normal was depleting his strength, but he made no complaint and refused to show any sign of tiredness.

As Harkwin approached with Jiwu in tow, he finally cut off his air magic so they could slow down for landing. Then he felt a sudden jerk as his flight companion unclipped the rope from her harness, separating the two of them so they could land safely--this was standard practice, and Harkwin grabbed the rope and coiled it up quickly so he could stuff it back into the designated pouch on his flight harness, rather than having it dangle behind him.

It was late afternoon. By now, the preparations at Central Camp looked to be nearly complete. The greenhouses were all boarded up, their glass exteriors all covered in temporary layers of metal and stone which the builders had constructed with their magic. Windows and doors for many buildings were completely blocked off as well, except for a few key structures. One of those structures was the camp's main command post, which Harkwin headed right towards.

Even as he flew at low altitude over the camp, Harkwin could see dragons still moving about--some were transporting supplies from one storage depot to another, others were still adding more reinforcement to buildings, and there were even some who were just sitting around, enjoying a chance to stay outdoors in the sun to enjoy the (very relative) warmth before the storm hit.

Carefully flaring his wings to cut his speed, Harkwin landed softly on his paws on the compacted snow street just outside the main command post. A few moments later, Jiwu landed beside him. "Thanks..." The weather worker spared him just a quick nod before she immediately rushed inside.

"You're welcome." Harkwin flicked his wings, then furled them neatly onto his back. Trotting forward, he followed her into the building.

The operations room was a familiar sight, mostly unchanged from how Harkwin had seen it in the morning. Exactly as before, the underground chamber was roughly circular and split up into various sections for the different teams. The only notable difference was that the skylights in the roof had been boarded off and sealed, leaving the operations room lit only by artificial lighting in the form of oil lamps or enchanted crystals.

Jiwu scrambled down the stairs, nearly tripping up on her own paws when she came to the bottom, though she manged to recover and ran over towards the weather worker section. Harkwin didn't run, but he did walk briskly towards the scout section.

The scout leader, Legrane, was sitting beside the light field projector. He was tapping at the control pedestal, and the sand in the pit was formed up to display various numbers and equations which were overlaid on top of the map projection. Legrane looked up when Harkwin approached, and nodded at the sight of the young grey-scaled dragon. "Welcome back, Harkwin. Did you get the data from Outpost 3?"

"Something like that. It might be bad news." Sitting down beside Legrane, at the edge of the light field projector's sand pit, Harkwin nodded to the opposite side of the room where the camp's weather worker team was assembled around their own sand pit and now speaking with Jiwu. "I made it to Outpost 20 and delivered the message tube, then I headed towards Outpost 3, but I never made it to the weather station. About one hour away, I met one of the weather scientists from the outpost. She had their data with her, so I towed her back here instead of heading all the way to Bluefall."

"Ah." Legrane nodded understandingly, and he followed Harkwin's gaze to look across the operations room. The weather workers' discussion now seemed to be getting more frantic, with gesticulating and pointing down at their sand pit, which was displaying a map just like the scout section's was. "That's completely fine," Legrane decided. "As long as we have that new data to make forecasts, we can plan accordingly. Well done, Harkwin. Aerotows are tiring. You can head back to the dormitory and take a rest. Most of the other scouts have already arrived back here."

Harkwin nervously shifted his weight between his paws. "It might not be fine. The weather worker told me the storm was faster than expected, and that they'd sealed up their outpost."

"What? You mean at Outpost 3?" Legrane snapped his gaze back to Harkwin. "They sealed themselves up at Bluefall already? But the storm shouldn't hit them till the end of today. Why'd they hunker down so early?" The scout leader jabbed a button on the light field projector's control panel and the device switched modes to display weather instead of numbers on top of the topographical map. Sand shifted and changed colour, with the numbers melting away and instead forming into a greyish mass of clouds which represented the (supposed) current position of the storm.

Harkwin shook his head. Just looking at the displayed map in the sand pit, he knew from his own experience that the storm was much closer than that projection showed. "The storm is moving faster than from yesterday's predictions. That weather worker I met in flight told me that it's a different sort of storm."

Legrane went very still, and his gaze darted across the map with all its outpost markers. "That is... problematic. That is bad news, if true..."

A chill went down Harkwin's spine--not from any cold temperature, but from the way Legrane seemed so concerned. "Could it be true? What should we do?"

"Unexpected changes are almost never good. Preparations here in Central are almost complete, but all the evacuations from the outposts were scheduled to only be completed by tomorrow morning. That might have been a mistake." Legrane twisted a knob on the control pedestal. Lines appeared in the sand, connecting all the different outposts with Central Camp, along with those numbers from before, which Harkwin now recognized as exact distance values and expected flight times.

Harkwin stared at the map. Each outpost was represented just by a simplified marker, but in reality those indicated people. Researchers living in rudimentary houses, or huts made from excavated stone, or even just basic tents which would provide little shelter against the storm. A mere scattering of outposts were well-built and insulated enough to survive the storm on their own, but most were not.

Legrane gestured across the projected map with all its information. "These are calculations for our evacuation schedules. There was already supposed to be reserve time factored into the recall to Central, but if the storm is fast then it'll eat into that extra time."

At the other side of the operations room, the discussion was becoming more heated. There were eight weather workers standing in their section, and some of them were arguing with each other loudly enough that people from other teams were beginning to take notice of the commotion. Legrane slid to his feet. "Let's go see what our scientists think."

"--are obviously driven by warm air, which should make a sustained cyclonic storm _impossible_given the temperatures here. This storm cannot be truly cyclonic, but merely has a rotating component driven by wind shear!" insisted one of the weather workers, frowning sceptically.

"Wind shear? The previous storms had wind shear. This is different." One of the other weather workers shook her head, looking more excited. "Look at that sharp temperature drop right near the end of the data! I think we are seeing vortex effects coming down from the upper atmosphere jet streams, which would explain why in the latest data on this storm we have such anomalous atmospheric readings..."

The weather workers appeared to be in a mix of confusion and excitement as they pored over the lists of numbers and graphs displayed by their light field projector, representing the latest data from Bluefall Weather Station. The projector also showed a map similar to the one the scout section had used, except this map seemed stretched upwards to show much more detail in the clouds and the sky instead of ground topography and the outposts.

The one exception to this enthusiastic argument was that weather worker Harkwin had towed back from Bluefall. Jiwu seemed dejected and had wrapped her wings around herself as if cold, and she wasn't really contributing to her colleagues' discussion.

Standing by the side, Harkwin joined a small crowd of onlookers who had gathered around the weather team to see what was going on. Unlike him, Legrane didn't stand aside and simply observe. The scout leader shoved his way to the middle, unapologetically pushing aside other dragons. "Make way!" Partially unfurling a wing, he made a small flicking motion with his wingtip--that small gesture wouldn't have been enough to create much of a breeze, but Legrane used his air affinity. Harkwin could feel the magic coiling outwards, reaching out into the air and pushing into motion towards the sand pit. The sudden gust of air sent sand flying, which scattered away all the numbers and disrupted the projected display showing the cloud structure of the storm.

Despite the breeze, the sand was kept contained within its pit and quickly reformed back up again, but this action had been enough to draw attention. "What?!" grumbled one of the weather workers. An older dragon with scales of dark purple, Harkwin vaguely recalled she was the section leader for the weather workers, though he couldn't quite recall having ever learned her name. "Who did that? Oh, Legrane, it's you. Come see these results! This is fascinating."

Whereas Legrane had a casual, often friendly manner with his fellow scouts, he always seemed a bit more formal with the other sections, especially with their section leaders. "Get a hold of your people, Norex. What are you all yelling about?"

"Yelling? Why, I... must disagree. Spirited debate and the rigorous discussion of ideas is the basis of a thorough scientific inquiry," retorted Norex, the weather worker section leader. "We've just got the latest atmospheric readings from Bluefall Station! This storm has some unique characteristics differentiating it from previous major storm systems we've encountered previously. It'll take us some time to process the data, but just the preliminary results are very curious. The potential future applications for advanced weather manipulation back in the city are--"

"Figure out the future applications later. What are you results?" Legrane demanded.

"We have several different theories... It is possible this storm is truly cyclonic, or alternatively, that it is just so big that it has not fully made landfall and is still drawing energy from the ocean waters. My personal favourite theory is this is not just one big storm as we've seen before, but an assembled collection of several smaller storms orbiting each other in close formation. All of these phenomena have been observed back in the City of Wings, but that is such a different climate from the far south. The structural characteristics are--"

Legrane tried to focus this outpouring of wild scientific speculation. "Norex, you and your team can ponder over the science later, but right now I want to know how this will affect our expedition."

Norex glanced around at her team, and they all looked rather uncertain. Jiwu, the weather worker Harkwin had towed back, was the one who spoke up in a worried voice. "If Bluefall is anything to go by, then expect this storm to be fast. Faster than anything we've seen before. Maybe even accelerating in speed. The cold will come and it will come so quickly."

"That seems probable," Norex agreed. "Perhaps we should focus on more local problems for now." The senior scientist turned to one of her subordinates. "Gane, I want you to go around the ops room and find the leaders of... ahh... engineering team, building team, and maybe the greenhouse team too. If the team leaders aren't in the ops room, just have the second-in-command or whoever is on duty come over here. They'll want to know we have less time than expected."

Legrane didn't appear to want to wait for the rest of the section leaders. "How long until that storm hits us? How much faster is it compared to yesterday's predictions?" he asked.

"The storm seems chaotic, so it's hard to say. It could slow down drastically enough that the prediction of tomorrow midday turns out to be correct. But... it could also speed up. That storm could reach us here in Central Camp by tonight, if these speeds are to be believed."

Legrane was quiet for a moment. "Tonight? You're sure?!"

"That's my guess. Would anyone else like to offer their own predictions?" Norex asked her team, and this was the cue for the rest of the weather workers to break out into discussion again.

"Confidence intervals are actually--"

"But again, the energy must be coming from somewhere. Simple conservation of energy! Our past records from the three previous storms has indicated a steady speed loss is always the case when landfall--"

"But turbulent motion is so chaotic! The storm might just spin itself to pieces and dissipate. My informed opinion would be that we cannot assume--"

Lying down on the floor, Jiwu put her head on her paws and closed her eyes. "The storm is coming. We're all going to freeze..." she muttered.

One of the other weather workers nudged Jiwu's side. "Don't be so dramatic. You're just tired out from flying all the way back from Bluefall. Go take a rest and you'll feel better."

The other assembled dragons from various other teams across the operations room also added to the chatter, usually wondering about how this storm would affect their own area of expertise. Harkwin could hear various conversations--a pair of builders was speculating about whether the storm might have stronger winds that could blow loose insulation panels, then there was a trio of other dragons who seemed to be from a mix of teams wondering about how the greenhouses would hold up if the storm lasted too long and the plants had to rely on artificial lighting instead of sunlight. There was so much noise and so much concern over the storm from all the different aspects of the expedition.

Legrane ignored them all. He walked right up to the control pedestal for the weather workers' sand pit, and he jabbed one button. A loud discordant buzz echoed through the operations room and the across the entirety of Central Camp as Legrane activated the camp's public address system. His voice sounded out from echoing boxes in every building, muffled and tinny but still audible. "Section leaders and all scouts report to the operations room immediately. All section leaders, and all scouts, to the operations room. Now!"

Releasing the button, Legrane pointed right at the weather worker section leader. "Norex, brief the other team leads when they arrive. I need to warn the outposts."

"Got it. I'll tell them about the storm."

Turning away, Legrane beckoned for Harkwin to follow after him, and the two scouts walked briskly back towards their own section of the operations room. "This is bad. We must act immediately," Legrane muttered. "This morning I should have just ordered an immediate recall from all vulnerable outposts, but the science teams insisted that they wanted to keep working till the last moment. Now this storm is too fast for us to handle. What a mistake."

Harkwin struggled to find a response. "But the storm... When I was flying today, I could still fly faster than the storm. I think any dragon can outfly the storm, even if they weren't scouts and didn't have air affinity."

"It is not that simple. Many outpost teams can't just fly directly away from the storm's direction of travel--they need to fly towards an insulated outpost or back here to Central, and that might not be possible in the time remaining. Or worse yet, some outposts might not even see the storm coming until it's already too late. We must warn them."

Walking up to the scout section's sand pit, Legrane jabbed at a large button on the control pedestal. The sand pit flickered to life, once again showing that familiar topographical map with the overlay of all the different outposts. "If the storm is going to arrive here in Central by the end of today, then that means the speed is about double what we expected. It would be... here." Legrane updated the projected map, and storm advanced forward in position, sweeping across the sand pit in a mass of shifting grey.

Harkwin nodded. "That matches what I saw in flight. The storm was huge and it was much closer than it should have been. It was... it was dreadfully immense."

"So we have half the time as before," Legrane concluded. With quick, precise motions, he jabbed at buttons and marked different outposts. "Outposts 1, 3, 5, 6, and 11 are safe--that's the four weather stations and the needlemir dig site. We need to warn the rest of the outposts."

Right at that moment, a trio of other scouts came down the stairs and entered the operations room. Of the three, only one of them was still wearing their flight harness--the other two had taken off their gear, presumably assuming they'd been done for the day. Legrane called them over quickly. "Zhalin! Drend, Kamatsilin!"

"Boss, was that you on the echo?" asked Zhalin, one of the scouts who'd just arrived. She sat down beside Harkwin and gave him a quick nod of her head, acknowledging his presence too. Harkwin made a short bow of his head in return, but he could hardly sit still--danger was bearing down on them. "What's going on?" Zhalin asked.

"Urgent developments--we just got new weather data from Bluefall." Legrane gestured at the topographical map, projected inside the sand pit. "The storm's coming faster than expected. I'm ordering an immediate recall of all non-insulated outposts. Same outpost assignments as this morning. Fly out now."

This sudden order took the newly-arrived scouts by surprise. "What? Now?! But we only just got back from flight an hour ago," said Drend, another one of the scouts.

Legrane was sympathetic but firm. "I know. Go to the lounge room to get food and water if you need it, but there's no time to rest. The storm is coming. Get to those outposts and warn them." He nodded towards the two scouts who weren't wearing their flight harnesses. "Put your gear back on. I need you all in the air--lives are counting on it."

To their credit, the scouts shared a few worried looks but didn't argue. Harkwin had been expecting his colleagues to have more questions about the specifics of this weather development since the other scouts hadn't seen the storm themselves, but then again they were used to taking flight assignments from Legrane without questioning their orders. "What's the message?" asked Zhalin.

Legrane shook his head. "No time for message scrolls. Verbally relay the information. Tell those outposts that the storm is coming ahead of schedule. They must drop everything now and fly. Drag them in a tow if you can, but at least get them all in the air, flying to a safe outpost or back here to Central. Respectively, I believe your assignments this morning were Outposts 2, 7 and 8, and 13? And 20 and 3 for you, Harkwin? Though you don't need to do 3, just 20." Legrane gestured to his four subordinates and waited for them to confirm their previous journeys, then he marked the outposts on the map. "Same route as before, as quick as you can do safely. Fly fast and fly well."

"Understood. We'll get it done, boss." Without any further questioning, Zhalin and the other two scouts stood up and headed out of the operations room.

"These storms just keep getting worse..."

Harkwin could feel both of his hearts pounding in his chest, and he had to consciously stop the tip of his tail from flicking about in anxiety. There was danger coming, and people had to be warned. He leapt to his feet and headed for the exit, but Legrane stopped him before he took more than a couple of steps. "Harkwin, wait."

"Drak?" Pausing mid-step, Harkwin turned back around.

Legrane was staring closely at the map, and his eyes darted across the distances and flight timings. "Hold. I am revising my last order. There might not be enough time for _every_outpost. Outpost 20 is too far away, and already too close to the storm front. I am not sure you could make it there before the storm."

"I..." Harkwin wasn't sure what to say for a moment. "I'm fast, I can make it in time," he decided.

"Can you?" Legrane adjusted the light field projector and the sand pit repeatedly ran through the next few hours, displaying the storm moving at various speeds. "You are fast, I give you that. You are one of the fastest scouts this expedition has, but this storm is fast too."

Harkwin didn't understand what Legrane was suggesting. "But what's the alternative? If I don't warn that outpost, who will?"

Legrane's expression was completely flat. "No one. I cannot order one of my scouts to fly into the approaching storm, knowing the danger of this particular flight to Outpost 20. There is too little time. We have to hope that the outpost team has already decided to begin their evacuation ahead of schedule."

Harkwin shook his head in disbelief. "The team there is... I was just there this morning. There was only one dragon. Her name was Nacen, and she's a hydrologist investigating the hot springs--"

"So there was only one dragon at Outpost 20? That does change the calculation. It is risking one life to try and save another. One for one." Legrane's expression looked so coldly calculating that Harkwin could hardly believe it. "It is possible that Outpost 20 has already seen the storm coming and decided to evacuate ahead of schedule, just like Outpost 3 locked down ahead of schedule and sent one of their weather workers to come warn us."

Harkwin thought back to Outpost 20--with its position in the highlands, the mountains would obscure any view of the storm until it was right on top of the outpost. From the ground, possibly inside a tent, Nacen wouldn't see the danger coming. Even worse, the mountain passes and valleys were prone to amplifying winds, which would make it even harder to try and outrun the weather if the outpost wasn't evacuated long before the storm arrived.

"We can't assume that! Someone has to go! I can do this. I'm fast enough," Harkwin insisted. At this point, he couldn't stop his tail from twitching. The tip of the appendage flicked about, tapping nervously against the ground.

"No. That is too dangerous." Legrane shook his head. "This is a race against the storm, and there is too much uncertainty. If it slows down then you might make it to Outpost 20 just fine, but if it speeds up even the slightest then you end up lost in the cold. The risk is unacceptable."

Harkwin didn't like this line of reasoning. There was a risk, definitely, but this was the only way to avoid someone being lost to the storm. "I'm fast enough! I'm the fastest scout. If I don't go then the outpost will freeze over, but if I go then no one will die."

Legrane's expression was steely cold. "I am not debating this with you, Harkwin. This is not a discussion. This is flight assignments, and I will not assign you to a destination at such great risk from the storm. You know the risks."

As Harkwin held eye contact with Legrane, it felt like the world was spinning. For a moment he felt lightheaded and unsteady on his feet, but he started pacing around and regained his balance. "I understand, but I accept the risk. I'll do it anyway. I have to."

"Harkwin!" The scout leader's voice was firm, and Harkwin froze in his tracks. For a long moment Legrane just stared, then he spoke in a quieter tone. "If anyone is to risk themselves in a storm, it should be me. I will go in your place and fly to Outpost 20 myself."

This suggestion was utterly baffling to Harkwin. "What?! Why? No, that's just even more likely to fail! You said it yourself--I'm the fastest scout, so I have to warn that outpost. This isn't about... making some desperate effort just for the sake of it. I'm going to that outpost and I will be back."

Legrane sighed softly. "If you really must choose to go, then I will not stop you. I could, but I will not. There is a possibility that the storm is slow enough and you are fast enough." Legrane shifted his gaze, and Harkwin saw that most of the other scouts had just entered the operations room and were walking over towards them. "Go then, Harkwin. Fly to Outpost 20 and bring them back here safely. Bring yourself back safely."

"I'm fast enough," Harkwin said, and he believed it too. Looking over the map, he silently ran through the distance values, predicted wind speeds, and the new estimate for the storm's arrival timings. He could make it. Maybe.

Legrane nodded, but for just a second Harkwin thought he saw sorrow on the scout leader's expression. "You have already been in the air all day. Get some food and water before you go--just take one minute to regain some energy, then go. Fly safe and fly well."

"Fly well," Harkwin echoed, and then he ran out of the operations room, not even bothering to pause and speak with the other scouts as he ran past them.

Unlike many dragons, Harkwin liked to run. It was common for dragons to enjoy flying, but most seemed to believe running was a slower, more tiring version of locomotion that was inferior to both flying and walking. Harkwin was different in that he liked sprinting both on foot and on the wing. As a young hatchling he had always enjoyed scampering about as fast as he could just for the fun of it, and neither learning how to fly nor properly growing up had hampered his enjoyment for grounded speed. There was something inherently satisfying about pushing his body to its limits, having the world go by in a blur as he dashed from one place to another at high speed. His claws dug into the insulating floor carpet as he sprinted, and he half-unfurled his wings for balance.

Running out of the operations room with all its sand pits for the expedition's various teams, Harkwin was about to sprint all the way up the stairs when he remembered what Legrane had just told him--even as much as he needed to rush, one single moment spent to get some food and water would refresh him and make his flight all the faster for it.

Still in the main basement area of the command post, he instead went down a corridor tunnel and briskly trotted into a small lounge room which was located adjacent. Because the operations room was staffed day and night, this lounge room held snacks and food rations to keep people fed and alert without needing to go all the way to the cookhouse (which was at the other side of the base) for a full meal. There were also simple mats and a few beds for quick naps, though no one else was in the room at the moment.

Harkwin went to the counter and grabbed a pack of purified water. The water packs had been placed inside a small heater enclosure which kept them warmed up to much warmer than even normal room temperature, potentially for use in various hot beverages. But there wasn't time now to make a drink, and Harkwin didn't really like hot drinks. Instead, he channelled his frost affinity and projected it outwards--every dragon on the polar expedition had frost affinity for the innate protection against cold temperatures, but that type of magic also gave the ability of frostbreath.

When Harkwin exhaled, a small stream of frosty cold air washed out from his jaws, instantly cooling down the water pack as he preferred. Without any further hesitation the scout drank thirstily from the pack, gulping down the cool liquid as fast as he could without choking, until it was completely empty.

Reaching down, Harkwin opened up two pouches of his flight harness which were located on his sides just beneath his wings. These pouches were right near his centre of mass, and each contained several similar water packs to the one he'd been drinking from, except these were near empty. In a practiced motion, Harkwin swapped up the depleted water packs for fresh stores of water--as was standard procedure for a scout or any other expedition dragon operating outside for long periods of time, he carried water to make sure he didn't get dehydrated throughout the day. His flight harness had a special pair of hoses which connected to these pouches, so he could directly drink from the water pouches while he was in flight.

Harkwin put the empty water pouches in a designated box filled with other empty water packs. At some point in the day, a cook would come by to take these packs and bring them over to the base's cookhouse to be washed and then refilled with purified water obtained from melted snow.

With thirst now settled, Harkwin went on to tackle hunger. He headed over to the other side of the lounge and grabbed several packaged snacks--sweet candy, dried berries and nuts, and even some salted, preserved meat strips. The berries and nuts had been grown right in the Central Camp's greenhouses, while the preserved meat came from the stores which the expedition had brought over when they'd first arrived.

Even as he chewed on a dried meat strip and swallowed, Harkwin collected his thoughts and calmed himself. His hearts were still beating quickly and his mind was running as quickly as his body had been, randomly pulling up memories and thoughts and concerns.

Going to the lounge room here was a normal routine. After he'd come back from a flight to any outpost on a regular day, Harkwin would come down to the operations room and report his return to Legrane (or Garilasor, who was the scout second-in-command for when Legrane was off duty or out on a flight). But once that was done, Harkwin would often come here to grab a quick snack or get a drink to take back to the dormitory, where he would remove his flight harness and head over to the cookhouse for a proper meal. Now there was no time to rest or even get a complete meal, but at least this part of his routine helped him feel like everything was somewhat normal and manageable. He took just one single minute to quench some of his thirst and his hunger, and then he would go face the harsh realities of living the in inhospitable polar south. Inhaling slowly, Harkwin held the breath for a long moment before exhaling ever so slowly. Just one minute--one minute spent in this lounge, drinking water and eating food--and then he would have to fly as fast as he ever had, racing against an approaching storm to save a friend in danger.

Swallowing his snack, Harkwin left the lounge room and ran up the stairs. Dodging out of the way of various other expedition members, he slammed his shoulder against the doors of the main command post and shoved his way into the cold. His paws left a scant few prints on the snowy ground, and then his wings caught the air and he was away.

The unending daylight of polar summer was something which took getting used to. When the expedition had first arrived in the far south, Harkwin had spent a few days disorientated and sleep-deprived as he learned to adapt to this new environment where the sun never set.

Unlike some of the other sapient species, dragons were normally used to flying long distances and their body clocks were quick to adjust to travel. Waking up, sleeping, and other natural rhythms were reliant on the local time of day, which could advance or delay accordingly if a dragon flew a considerable distance. The problem was that all this natural adaptation was based on seeing the changing light levels as caused by the rising and setting of the sun, but the sun didn't set during the polar summer. Faced with this problem, various expedition members had quickly decided to completely darken the windows of all the various dormitory buildings, so they could have some facsimile of night even if the sky was still bright.

Nevertheless, the eternal daylight just felt off. Morning, evening, even the middle of the night--the level of sunlight was constant. It was now nearing the end of the day, yet even as Harkwin sped through the skies, the polar sunlight was shining as bright as it had ever did, albeit from a different angle.

Channelling his air affinity, Harkwin flew as fast as he could. His wing muscles were noticeably starting to ache after a full day's flying, and his internal reserve of magic had its own limit too, but being tired would have to wait. Harkwin retraced the exact same course he'd taken this morning, flying out across the icy plains and passing by all the same landmarks as he headed for Outpost 20. It was a test of mental discipline just as much as it was of physical strength--he forced himself onward, beating his wings to a steady tempo that was neither too fast nor too slow. He couldn't sprint for hours, so he had to ration his strength and maintain a speed which he could sustain all the way. He was tired, but he didn't care; not until his task was complete.

Four hours to Outpost 20.

About halfway into his journey, the storm began to come into view. A massive wall of grey clouds gradually became visible, covering the entire horizon and everything ahead in the extreme distance. Harkwin kept beating his wings. He had no time or energy to waste, not even on being worried about the storm. Up ahead he could see the polar highlands--plains became rolling hills, and hills eventually became mountains. Somewhere at the top of one of those mountains was a large crater, in which lay his target.

Despite his efforts, stray thoughts did slip through his focus. There was just nothing to do except beat his wings and fly, and his mind inevitably wandered--Harkwin thought about all the other outposts, and all his fellow scouts who would be flying out to warn them. He hoped that everyone made it safely, though he couldn't know till he got back to Central Camp. In fact, he couldn't know until the storm had blown over and flights had been re-established between Central Camp and the insulated outposts, where there were dozens of dragons sheltering out the storm.

Harkwin ran through the flight calculations, repeatedly estimating his flight speed. He was definitely flying fast. Even though he'd spent the entire day flying and was increasingly tired, he was sustaining the same high speed as this morning when he'd been well-rested. And yet the great unknown was the storm--even though he could see it, Harkwin didn't know how fast that storm system was moving. From long distance he had no way of knowing how strong the winds were, or how cold the temperature was dropping. Perhaps those grey clouds were just a front, and the real danger of the storm was hidden far behind and would take longer to arrive?

However, such hopeful and optimistic thoughts weren't the entirety of his mental state. There was doubt and uncertainty too, even though he tried to push those thoughts away. It really was madness to fly towards a storm! The weather system was a raw force of nature, and Harkwin couldn't help but stare at the massive blizzard as he approached. He watched the skies repeatedly, looking for any sign of Nacen--if she had somehow seen the storm or otherwise decided to evacuate early, he would come across her in flight and they could both just head to Central Camp immediately. That would be the ideal scenario, but he saw no one else in the skies.

A shiver of guilt snuck in--this morning he'd been the one who'd told her that the storm would only arrive tomorrow. It wasn't really his fault (or anyone else's fault) that the storm had unexpectedly proven so much faster than the previous storms, but still there had been a sequence of events where this unfolding danger would not have materialized.

Right this morning, if he'd been in just a bit less of a rush to leave for the Bluefall Weather Station, perhaps Nacen would have decided to leave Outpost 20 and fly along with him? Or perhaps not. Perhaps that would have just been more delay, and it would have been even longer before the main expedition force at Central Camp had become aware of the speedy storm.

Harkwin dropped that line of thought. Wondering about the past and what might have been could not be allowed to distract him from the present. None of that helped him now, as he flew into the mountains.

The winds were picking up, and scattered clouds filled the skies. From afar the storm had appeared as a single massive wall of grey, but up close the cloud bank split up into many layers and different areas--towering pillars of clouds, and immense areas of moving air. Especially from within the mountainous polar highlands, the storm's approaching boundary was not quite so obvious, as the mountainous terrain affected the winds. The sky directly above had portions which were covered by thick clouds, but there were other areas where clear blue was still visible.

As Harkwin flew through the valleys and mountain passes leading towards Outpost 20, his flight speed accelerated sharply as a powerful tailwind pushed him forward. Without slowing down, he checked his pocket watch; he was close now. In this final race against the storm, both of them had almost reached the outpost.

When Harkwin finally swept through the final mountain pass which led to the summit crater, he tried to let out a roar, but his voice sounded too tired and the wind swept the sound away. "Skyahh...!" Down in the crater, thin columns of vapour were still visible rising from the hot springs; but there was no response from the orange tents erected a short distance away.

As Harkwin approached the outpost, a flicker of worry crossed his mind--what if somehow Nacen had already left for Central Camp, but they'd somehow missed each other as she flew past him? It would be good if she was already out of harm's way, even if that would mean that his flight here had been for nothing. Harkwin shook his head and banished that thought. No use worrying about that possibility unless it turned out to be reality.

As he swept over the hot springs on final approach, the air above those bubbling pools of mineral-rich water was heavy with humidity and shockingly warm in contrast to the cold air he'd been flying through. Then it was gone in an instant and Harkwin landed right beside the tents.

"Nacen? Ah..." Making a high-speed landing on a patch of ice nearly made Harkwin fall, but he stumbled forward and managed to steady himself. His claws dug into the ice, giving him some grip. "Nacen!" he shouted, and this time his voice was clearly loud enough to be heard over the gentler winds here. "Nacen!"

For a few seconds there was no response and Harkwin wondered if the outpost had truly been already vacated, but then a beige-scaled dragon stuck her head out of a tent. Nacen looked surprised to see him. "Harkwin? What are you doing here?"

"Nacen, the storm! I've come to warn you about the storm!" Harkwin tried to run over, but he nearly slipped up on ice again and he had to flap his wings to regain his balance.

"Careful! Don't trip." Nacen stepped out of the tent and shook herself all over. She looked slightly groggy, as if she'd been sleeping and had only just woken up. Despite the polar sunlight still shining into the crater, night had fallen. "The storm? Warn me about the storm? You already told me about it this morning. You gave me a message scroll, remember?"

"That message was wrong!" Harkwin had an impulsive desire to pick up some snow and throw it at Nacen to shake her out of her sleepiness, but that wouldn't be helpful; or nice. "I couldn't even make it to Outpost 3 this afternoon. The storm is much faster than expected. It's not going to hit Central by midday tomorrow but by tonight, and it's going to be here even sooner. We need to leave right now."

"Now?" Nacen glanced up at the skies, and Harkwin followed her gaze. The sky above was already partially obscured by clouds, but the sun was still at just the right angle to shine into the summit crater. The weather was not as clear as it had been in the morning, though it didn't seem as bad from their perspective here.

"Now," Harkwin insisted. Their view was obscured by the mountains, otherwise they would have been able to see that the outer boundaries of that massive storm would have almost reached. From outside the highlands, Harkwin could remember seeing that immense wall of clouds that had been sweeping across the land. "There's an immediate recall order in effect for all non-insulated outposts, but number 20 is the closest to the storm. Let's get out of here."

"I can... let me grab my report books and seal up the tents." Nacen turned around to head back inside her tent, but Harkwin moved forward and grabbed her tail in his jaws. He gave it a short tug, just enough to stop her.

"No! There's no time. The storm is almost here. We need to fly right now!" Harkwin realized he sounded almost panicked, but that was because he was almost panicked. All this flying as fast as he could, and now every second spent on the ground felt like time wasted. "I saw the storm--you can't see most of it because the mountains are blocking the view, but the storm is almost here. We need to leave immediately or we're going to freeze to death! We'll go by the southern mountain pass and fly right back to Central."

"Ok, ok. I... That's... Alright, fine." Nacen looked confused, but she shook away her sleepiness and nodded. She turned back out of the tent and opened up her wings. "The storm shouldn't... I expected that... Fine, let's fly. Lead the way!" She hesitated for a moment, then ran forwards and flapped her wings hard to leap into the air.

Harkwin was right after her. Even before they had gained much altitude or speed, he pulled ahead and tossed out the tow rope from his flight harness. "Clip on! I'll tow you back to Central."

"An aerotow? I've never done that before..." Flying several body lengths behind him, Nacen tried to grab that dangling rope. Harkwin even slowed his wingbeats and tried to fly straight to make it easier, but wind shear buffeted them from side to side and made the flight unsteady.

"Just clip it onto the main chest strap," Harkwin told her.

It took several tries before Nacen managed to snatch at the end of the rope and grab it firmly. Once she had the rope, she then fiddled with the shackle and clipped it onto one of the main supporting straps of her own harness. "Ok, I think I got it. Is this right? I think it's right."

"Good. Keep flapping your wings, and stay behind me to ride the slipstream." Harkwin stopped looking over his shoulder and glanced back forward. Taking a deep breath, he called his magic and reached out into the air around him.

The process of using magic was difficult to describe. Not even that many years ago, Harkwin had been a fledgling--a young dragon capable of flying, but not quite full size and not able to use magic, which were the differentiators that marked an adult dragon. As with most of his peers, Harkwin had been curious about magic, but the explanations for what using magic felt like had always seemed overly simplistic or lacking specific detail.

However, now having developed his own frost and air affinities, Harkwin could understand why it was hard to properly describe what using magic was like. Outwardly, he could hear a whooshing rumble from the moving air, and he could feel as it swept over his scales. Inwardly, using magic just felt like using magic. It felt like some hidden part of his body was reaching out and extending into the air around him, and then somehow commanding the air to move as he wished. Dragons were unique amongst the sapient species--they needed no spells, no hand waving, and no magical runes, for using magic was as intuitive to them as breathing.

Tired as he was from flying for so many hours, Harkwin took a couple of tries to actually channel his magic and catch the winds, but in the end he still managed to use his air affinity to push himself forward and accelerate his flight. The tow rope connecting him to Nacen snapped taut, pulling her along too. Harkwin glanced over his shoulder, just to check that Nacen was still flying normally. "How are you doing? Are you alright? A tow can take some getting used to."

Nacen nodded. "I'm alright! Are... are you alright? You look tired."

Harkwin could sense a deep ache in his wing muscles even as he kept flying, and it must have shown in the way he was flapping his wings. "I don't have time to be tired! We have to get back to Central. It's not safe till we get there."

Wings beating in lockstep, flying one after the after, the two dragons angled towards one of the mountain passes leading out from the summit crater. However, the closer they got to the crater edge, the harder it got to fly. When Harkwin had been flying out towards the outpost, a strong tailwind had swept him forwards and sped up his flight--but now they were going in the opposite direction, and that tailwind had become a headwind. The winds were getting stronger, slowing their flight even as they approached the southern mountain pass.

Compared to the large, open area of the summit crater, the narrowing valley walls of the mountain pass concentrated the winds and made them all the more treacherous. "Are we...? I feel like we're not going very fast!" Nacen shouted, raising her voice to be heard over the wind.

"I know! There's a headwind!" Harkwin's air affinity normally let him fly faster, but the wind was just too strong to entirely overcome. Every bit of distance was gained slowly by repeated, exhausting effort as they fought against the wind.

"If the wind is blowing in from the southern mountain pass, can we go by the eastern pass instead?" Nacen suggested.

Recalling his mental map of the local terrain here, Harkwin decided against it. "The eastern pass is even closer to the storm! If we go by that route, the weather will probably be even worse than here. Just keep at it!" He tried to channel a bit more of his air affinity to counter the winds, but he was at the limit of his magic. After having flown the whole day, he wasn't sure how much more he had to give. "The winds might calm down once we actually enter the mountain pass," he added, though this was more of a hopeful wish than a realistic prediction.

In the skies up above, grey clouds was sweeping over the tops of the mountains. There was no sudden, dramatic transition, but progressively the weather was getting worse and worse as the storm arrived in force.

When Harkwin and Nacen finally managed to reach the southern mountain pass, there was no respite to be found. Fighting a headwind would have been bad enough, but then the wind shear started picking up too--over short distances, dramatic changes in wind direction knocked them from side to side. A gust from the left forced Harkwin to tilt his wings to keep flying straight, then a sudden updraft forced him to dive just to remain at a steady altitude.

"Ah!" Nacen let out a grunt as the wind shear continued to toss them around, pushing them almost like leaves swirling in a breeze. The aerotow only made things more difficult--the tow rope was supposed to let Harkwin use his magic to pull himself and Nacen forward, but now it messed with both their individual abilities to fly straight. A gust of wind might push him to one side, but then a different gust of wind would push Nacen the other way, and the rope would pull them in weird directions that made it even harder to fly properly.

"Can't you stop the wind...? I thought you can control the winds!" Nacen shouted. She was now starting to sound worried too, as she realized the true severity of the weather conditions.

"I am controlling the winds! This is the best I can do!" Harkwin shouted back.

For long, tiring minutes the two dragons continued on through the mountain pass. It was just as Harkwin had feared--the ridges and valleys of the mountain pass amplified the winds, making it difficult and dangerous to fly. On a clear day they might have tried climbing high to just fly entirely over the mountains, but by now the storm had come. A layer of clouds rolled over the mountain tops, covering the sky like a lid of swirling grey over the world. There was nothing to do but to keep flying forward, and keep fighting the fierce turbulence.

Worse yet, visibility started to deteriorate as well. With thick grey clouds now covering the sky, the limited polar sunlight was shrouded away and the landscape grew dim. Dragons' eyes had superb optical resolving power to help them see prey on the ground from high altitude, but their vision was optimized for the bright light of day. Their night vision was lacking, and not being able to see properly was becoming yet another problem to add to their growing list of problems.

"We can't keep this up! The winds are really bad!" Nacen warned, but Harkwin wasn't sure if there was any viable alternative.

"Yes we can!" he shouted back at her, because there was no other choice. "We'll make it out of here." They had to leave the highlands and get out of the storm, or they would freeze. Was that even possible? In an automatic, practiced motion, Harkwin reached a paw into one of his flight harnesses pouches and fished out his pocket watch. Squinting in the grey, darkly overcast lighting, he tried to estimate their forward ground speed and came up with a number that was very unsatisfactory.

They had just _barely_made any progress, continuously fighting the winds in this mountain pass. But to turn back would be to admit defeat--Outpost 20 had nothing but a scattering of thinly insulated tents, and the deep cold of the storm would kill them.

Harkwin really wasn't even thinking much anymore. He was just focusing entirely on trying to keep his flight stable despite the wind shear, and to keep moving forward. What finally started to break his resolve was when the precipitation began. Clouds were continuously blowing in over the mountain tops, and the lower layers were starting to reach their altitude. The air felt cold and hostile, and then came the icing. Gusts of wind blew droplets of supercooled water and tiny flakes of ice and snow, throwing the weather against them.

Even as he kept flapping his wings, Harkwin felt his flight surfaces slowly becoming heavier and less efficient. They were barely flying below the lowest, thinner layers of the clouds, but ice was starting to condense out of the air and freeze onto his wings.

"Is this the storm? Already? There's ice on my wings! We can't fly in these conditions..." Nacen said, and Harkwin wanted to disagree. He wanted to tell her that they could keep flying, except that wasn't true. They had to, but they couldn't.

Still, doggedly he kept beating his wings and pushing his way forward. Harkwin had to shake his wings to dislodge ice every few moments, but there was no alternative.

What finally changed his mind was when a hailstone whizzed by his head. They could keep trying to fight the wind, and maybe they could also fight the icing conditions, but attempting to fly through hail was suicidal. "Alright. Alright! Ryyyahhh!" Harkwin let out a long, angry roar, shouting at the clouds and the immense storm system. Slowing his wingbeats, he went into a glide and glanced back at Nacen. "We can't fly through the mountain pass, but there's nowhere else to go. What now?"

Trailing behind him, with that tow cable still connecting their flight harnesses, Nacen looked just as uncertain as him. "Back to the outpost?"

"The tents are so thin. We'll freeze to death," Harkwin muttered, but he turned around and flew back towards the summit crater. With this change in direction, the winds swept him forward without even needing to beat his wings, but Harkwin couldn't shake the terror that they were flying to their demise.

The weather closer to Outpost 20 was relatively calm. The sky was still heavily overcast with grey clouds which darkened the landscape, but at least the winds slowed down and became manageable. Harkwin was so tired that he just dropped all efforts to use his air magic to push them forward. What did it matter? The storm had trapped them here in the summit crater. With no way to leave they would eventually freeze to death as the temperature dropped over the next few hours or days and the true force of the storm arrived.

As the two dragons approached Outpost 20, Harkwin was tiredly resigned to his fate. Had it been a mistake to come here? Surely it couldn't have been a mistake to come and try to rescue a friend, yet now they faced mortal danger.

Flying into the outpost, Harkwin dropped out of the skies and touched down on his paws. Nacen landed just behind him, skipping a few steps to get rid of some excess speed. The tow rope was still connecting their harnesses--it should have been disconnected before landing for safety, but again, what did it matter?

Harkwin let his legs fold, lying down on all fours. He let out a slow, tired sigh, and his exhaled breath was barely visible as a misty cloud of white. The scout tilted his head to stare up at the sky, watching that grey, ominous shroud of cloud that covered the world. Right here at the outpost the weather seemed deceptively quiet. The wind was still blowing, but it felt more like a calm breeze. Instead of hail or freezing rain, there were only tiny snowflakes gently drifting down from the clouds. Tiny flakes of snow fell from above--minuscule crystals that were slowly painting a fresh coat of white on the world. However, he could feel the cold now--the temperature was dropping, and eventually it would overwhelm even his natural frost affinity.

Harkwin shivered. He wasn't cold yet, but fear was taking hold. "We're going to die," he muttered.

Suddenly a snowball smacked against his side, making the young grey-scaled dragon jump in surprise. Nacen was standing beside him, and she grabbed the tow rope that was still connecting them and used it to tug Harkwin to his feet. "Get up. And don't be so pessimistic."

"Why not? The storm has arrived, and the southern mountain pass is untraversable. We're stuck here." Sitting down again, Harkwin used his paws to gather up some loose snow. He began moulding the snow into a bowl shape, compacting it in a rough facsimile of the summit crater's terrain all around them. Carefully using one claw, he poked at one particular part of his snow model, roughly where the southern mountain pass was located.

Nacen walked over and pointed at a different part of Harkwin's little snow model of the summit crater. "We could try the eastern mountain pass," she suggested.

Looking up from his model, Harkwin turned his head to look across the relative flat terrain, in the direction of the actual eastern mountain pass which was visible through the low-level clouds. "If the winds are strong at the southern pass, the eastern one will be even windier. There'll be ice and hail and so much wind shear. We won't make it through."

Nacen's neck crest twitched. She stomped her paw down on the snow. "If that's the case, then... then we'll just have to hunker down here! Maybe the storm will be mild."

"Haha_ha_!" Harkwin let out a guffaw of laughter, though his voice sounded far more hysterical than joyous. "This storm is faster than the three other storms we've encountered previously. With no shelter, we're going to freeze to death."

Nacen clenched her paw, then she picked up another lump of snow to toss at Harkwin. He waved a wing to deflect the projectile, but Nacen missed anyway. "Can you stop that? Stop. Stop saying we're going to die." Nacen gestured about at the trio of orange, triangular tents that were just a short distance away. The tents fluttered in the breeze. "We have some shelter! We have tents here at the outpost."

"Tents aren't enough." Harkwin manipulated the snow with his paws, adding several tiny conical mounds to his snow model to imitate the tents. "We'd need proper shelter. Unless it turns out that your tents here have underground basements with adequate ground insulation or advanced heater units, then this outpost will be our death." Then Harkwin paused, as a sudden flash of inspiration struck him. "Wait, I don't suppose... You said this place is geologically active, right? So does this summit crater have any caves nearby? Maybe we could shelter there."

Nacen grit her teeth, and her crest fin drooped slightly. "No caves here, as far as we know."

"Oh. So I guess we are_going to die after all." Reaching a wing out towards a nearby mound of snow, Harkwin swept it over his miniature model of the crater, completely destroying it. "_Bwooosh. This is the storm, freezing us to death."

Nacen chuckled, then looked slightly irritated, but also amused--her facial expression was mixed. "Hey! I said stop it. We're not going to die. What about... uh... What about instead of flying through the mountain passes, we climb above the mountains and try to fly over the storm?"

Harkwin had already thought about that, and dismissed that idea. Mild weather systems could sometimes be at a low enough altitude for a dragon to fly above that turbulent weather, but not for the sorts of immense blizzards which the far polar south had a habit of creating every few weeks. "I saw the weather data from Outpost 3. This storm stretches all the way to the upper atmosphere. We're totally dead."

"We're not dead until we're actually dead, at which point then you are allowed to say we're dead!" Nacen clearly was not ready to recognize fate. She paced around Harkwin, partially entangling him in the tow rope, which neither of them had bothered to disconnect yet. "Let's just think about this logically and analyse what's going to happen. The storm is coming and the cold will kill us. So we have to leave--but the mountain passes are too windy, and we can't climb above the cloud layer. We can't fly through the storm and we can't fly over the storm, so we have to stay here, but the tents don't provide enough insulation from the cold."

Harkwin had seen the results from previous storms. "We'll end up frozen solid. Whenever the storm finally blows over, the scout team from Central will come here to these tents and find our dead bodies. We're so far away that I'm not sure they would carry our frozen corpses back to Central. We'll probably just end up cremated here."

Nacen made an annoyed noise. "Mnnnghhhaaa! How about you stop being so negative and start suggesting solutions? We're not dying here! That would be unacceptable, you hear me? Harkwin, we cannot die here, so help me figure out how to make that happen! Or not happen! You know what I mean. You're supposed to be the brave hero who flew out here to rescue me, so act more heroic!"

Nacen's irate look managed to crack through Harkwin's resigned indifference, and he felt a flash of embarrassment. "Sorry. I know I shouldn't be so negative, but... these storms have killed dragons before. Now we're stuck out here and... I'm scared," he admitted. "I'm scared to die. I don't want to go."

Nacen faltered for a moment, and Harkwin could see that she was as scared as he was, even if she masked it with bravado. "We'll make it somehow. We're not going to freeze inside those tents. So we have to stay here... What can we use for shelter to keep us warm?"

"There isn't much here." Harkwin glanced around, but there wasn't much to see. The entire summit crater was mostly bare rock covered by snow, without even trees to break up the monotonous environment.

"Could we... somehow stack the three tents together, making their walls triple-layered for more insulation?" Nacen suggested.

Harkwin stood up and walked the short distance over to the closest tent. He used a paw to poke at the tent wall, which was flapping slightly in the breeze. "We could try, though I don't think that would be enough. The cold is really cold. Also, the wind will probably just blow all these tents to tatters."

"What a waste of resources. What a waste of... of everything!" Nacen unfurled her wing and swung it forward angrily, slapping the leading edge of her limb against the side of a tent. There was a loud thwack sound, but neither wing nor tent was damaged. "I spent so many weeks here, taking water samples every few hours. Now it doesn't seem to matter. Mineral analysis, trace elements, acidity levels... What a stupid thing to die for, just learning a bit more about some hot springs!"

"Hm..." Harkwin perked up as a fresh idea blossomed in his mind. "Wait a moment. Hot springs?"

"Yeah?" Turning around, Nacen made eye contact with Harkwin.

Rearing up on his hindlegs, Harkwin peered over the tents and in the direction of the hot springs--the pools of bubbling water were still giving off wispy pillars of steam that slowly rose into the sky before gradually merging with the low clouds. "_Hot_springs! This outpost is meant to study hot springs! Why don't we just... swim or float in those hot springs? Since the water is warm, that should keep us from freezing through the storm!"

"Oh. Huh! Why didn't I think of that? I've spent so much time studying the pools that I didn't even think about using them." Nacen's crest fin perked up, then drooped slightly, then perked back up again. "It wouldn't work though. The water is boiling hot. We'd be cooked alive if we went inside the pools--frozen on one side, and boiled on the other. Unless..."

"Unless?" Harkwin prompted.

"I think I might have an idea." Nacen glanced up at the sky, looking at the snowflakes which were slowly drifting down from the clouds. "Let's hope we have enough time. Come on!" Jumping to her feet, she ran into the nearest tent.

"Carry this!" Nacen ordered, dragging a small, cubical wooden crate out of the tent that was tied up by rope.

Harkwin had been waiting outside, and he nudged the crate. "Uh... What's this?"

"Packed food rations." Disappearing back into the tent, Nacen dragged out several other smaller pouches of equipment, and then she rolled out several small metal barrels and all other sorts of things. "What do we need to survive? Food, water, maybe a first aid kit? Lamp, with extra fuel. Sleeping bags..." As Nacen called out the various items, she brought out more equipment. "Carry this, and that... Thank you. Very nice. Is that too heavy for you?"

"I'm a scout. We're used to carrying supplies around... though normally we're more about speed than quantity," Harkwin replied. He took the various equipment pouches and clipped them onto his flight harness, and he hefted the remaining oversized equipment onto his back, balanced between his wings.

Nacen another wooden crate and carried it by the rope, using her jaws, then she led the way out of the outpost. "Follow me, if you please!" Harkwin trotted after her obediently, carrying all the equipment and with that cubical crate precariously balanced on his back. "So here's the plan," Nacen said, her voice muffled from the rope. "We don't have shelter, so we need to make some, and that shelter somehow also needs to use the hot springs to stay warm."

"Yes?" Harkwin was following after Nacen, with that tow rope still connecting them. Occasionally he had to use his wings to adjust the miscellaneous equipment tossed on his back, keeping it balanced.

"The obvious approach is to dismantle a tent or two and drag them over to be right beside the hot springs. Except the tents might not be enough to stand up to the heavy winds of the storm," Nacen continued.

Harkwin nodded. "Makes sense. So what's your plan?"

"Easier to demonstrate than explain." Nacen walked over to one of the smaller hot springs and put down the crate. Harkwin followed her lead by putting down the sleeping bags, water barrel, and all the other equipment.

This hot spring in particular was a roughly circular pool of lightly bubbling water of about the same diameter as a dragon's stretched wingspan. In a small area around the pool, the smooth rock surface was completely exposed to the air, as any nearby snow had been melted by the steam and warmth coming from the spring.

Nacen was quiet for a moment, then she raised a paw and extended it towards the water. At first Harkwin thought that she was trying to feel the steam, but then thin, wispy tendrils of bluish-purple colour wrapped around her paw and shot towards the hot spring--magic in action. Ripples appeared in the pool, and then a sphere of water lifted out of the surface. Nacen was using her magic--whereas Harkwin had air affinity to control the wind, Nacen's magic let her manipulate water. "So here's my plan. I'll take water from the hot spring and do like so..."

Harkwin watched, transfixed, as Nacen controlled the sphere of water and floated it out of the hot spring. The water was mostly clear, but with plenty of bubbles and a very faint bluish tinge from dissolved minerals. Manipulated by Nacen's magic, the water sphere moved over towards the edge of the pool and then it flattened out into a rectangular shape.

Nacen nodded to Harkwin. "Ok, and now you freeze it."

Harkwin stared at the magically-suspended water, then he stared at Nacen. "What?"

Nacen's crest fin drooped slightly, and she rolled her eyes. "Freeze it! You've got frost affinity. Don't tell me you forgot how to use frostbreath?"

At that moment, something clicked in Harkwin's mind and he finally understood what Nacen was doing. Every dragon on this polar expedition had frost affinity, and that magic allowed for more than just resistance to low temperatures. They could also project out a blast of freezing cold air from their jaws, but this was a skill which didn't have much use out here in the far south--what could there possibly be to freeze, when everything was already frozen? Harkwin occasionally used it to cool down his beverages, but other than that frostbreath wasn't very useful. Or was it?

Harkwin took a deep, deep breath. He was so tired from flying all day, and it felt like he had hardly any magic left inside him, yet somehow he mustered the concentration to use his frost affinity. Billowing, frosty cold swept from his open jaws, catching the water and freezing it into a messy, roughly block shaped lump of ice crystals. Given that it was no longer liquid water, Nacen could no longer use her magic to control it, and the block dropped down onto the ground.

"Exactly like that. So my plan was that we use the water from the hot spring and freeze it into some sort of building material to create an ice or snow hut... thing... around this hot spring, and the steam will serve as heating source to keep us warm throughout the storm. Snow is supposedly a good insulator." Nacen looked at Harkwin. "Do you think that would work?"

Harkwin was no expert on architecture or construction, but anything was better than nothing. "Let's hope it works."

"It'll work," Nacen assured him. "Death is not an option. Let's get started."

The two dragons got to work, quickly getting into a steady process. Nacen would use her magic to draw up a quantity of water from the hot spring, which she would then levitate over for Harkwin to freeze solid with his frostbreath. Harkwin supposedly that technically Nacen could have used her own frost affinity and frozen the water into ice herself, but that would have been more than twice as slow. It was much easier for them to work together and focus on one type of magic each.

Bit by bit, minute by minute, they started to build. Quickly they decided to stop bothering with shaping the water into blocks--Nacen simply levitated out a stream of water, which she then directed into Harkwin's frostbreath. It looked almost like he was exhaling snow, as the water instantly misted up into a cloud of frozen white crystals. That icy, supercooled water then froze into place, building up more and more crystalline ice to form a solid snow structure.

Working in a circle around the hot spring, they constructed their makeshift snow hut. Harkwin lost track of time and he let himself get fully engrossed in the work. It was actually night time, but he fought back tiredness and kept going--until they had shelter, there could be no resting. No matter how exhausted he felt, he wasn't going to stop for even a single minute.

All the while as they worked, the storm continued to worsen. The weather in the summit crater advanced from a mild snowfall into a heavy downfall, with visibility dropping dramatically. This blocked out the sun even further, and the whole summit crater grew as dark as night should have been. Nacen switched on an oil lamp which threw out a small sphere of illumination into the heavy snow, but it was only enough to light up their singular hot spring and no further. The darkness all around had them completely cut off, as flight was impossible without light--they were fully committed now.

Gradually the snowfall intensified, with the snowflakes falling in clumps that stuck to scales and any exposed surface. The quiet, sombre silence of gentle snowfall gave way to the harsh whoosh of roaring wind, and Nacen and Harkwin had to shout to each other to communicate. Working up from the ground, the two dragons built up a circular wall of freshly-created snow.

As they storm continued to worsen, the temperature kept dropping. With snow billowing in the wind, Harkwin shivered from the cold. He tried to use his air affinity to still the winds around them, but he couldn't manage to use both types of magic at once, and he had to focus on building the shelter. Being cold was an incomparable experience. Harkwin could feel his muscles spasming and he shivered uncontrollably. His extremities felt the cold most of all, as his paws, tail, and wingtips grew painfully numb. The bitter cold bit against every scale on his body, leaving the comfort of warmth a distant memory. The storm had arrived and whipped up a frozen frenzy, sending snow and ice blasting everywhere in the icy tempest. There was no use even shaking himself--dislodging the snow that stuck to his scales would only last a few minutes before more snow covered his body.

Things got colder and colder... but then there came an inflection point. Once those walls of snowy ice had reached shoulder level, they were providing some protection from the wind. Gradually their makeshift shelter took shape--a dome of snowy white ice, flash-frozen by frostbreath and manipulated to completely surround the hot spring in a dome.

The very last step was to complete the roof with yet more flash-frozen ice. And then they were done. Their structure was complete--they finally had a roof and walls around them, and the loud howling of the wind quietened to a muffled rumble. Nacen drew up more water, but there was nothing left to build, so she let the liquid splash back into the hot spring.

Harkwin slumped back down on the rocky ground right next the hot spring, and Nacen leaned against his side. The two of them were completely enclosed by a thick dome of ice and snow, which entirely blocked out the storm and left them no view of the outside.

Inside they had several crates of food rations and water packs, along with sleeping bags and other miscellaneous equipment. And of course, there was that circular pool of water--the hot spring was still bubbling, but it was noticeably smaller than it had been before. They had partially drained the water to make their snowy hut, though the pool would slowly refill over time.

Leaning against Harkwin, Nacen rested her head on his shoulder. "Done. We're finally done. Is it enough?"

The air felt very humid but most importantly, it was warm. Harkwin unfurled one wing and used his wingtip to prod at the snowy walls, carefully testing their strength. Vapour from the bubbling hot spring was condensing onto the wall, and he could see droplets of water sliding down the surface. "Will the walls be adequate insulation? I don't want to freeze. But then again, if it gets too warm in here the walls might melt."

"Uncertain. It all depends on how cold the storm gets." Slowly dragging her paws, Nacen took the two sleeping bags and tossed them out onto the flat, rocky ground right next to the hot spring. These sleeping bags were large, proper pieces of equipment with a padded layer to soften the ground, and a thick but lightweight quilt layer for insulation. "We have shelter, and we have a heat source in form of that hot spring. It might be enough. I hope..." Nacen yawned widely, then she adjusted the sleeping bags to get them flattened out and neat. "Whew. I'm so tired... I haven't used that much magic at once for a long, long time."

Harkwin almost laughed. "I've been flying all day, racing against the storm! I bet I'm more tired than you." Lying down on one of the sleeping bags, he stretched himself out. His muscles felt so sore, all over his whole body from head to tail. Nacen's yawn had been contagious, and Harkwin found himself yawning too. "So much effort just to build some shelter. I really hope we don't freeze to death."

"I'm too young to die," Nacen muttered. "And I have far too many things I haven't yet done in my life."

"Yeah... I agree." Harkwin tried to swallow, but his mouth and throat felt very dry. "My throat's parched--I need a drink." Harkwin pushed himself into a sitting position and reached for the water packs stored in his flight harness, but they were all frozen solid from the time they spent working in the cold of the storm. "Oh, my water's all frozen up."

"We have a boiler here." Nacen got to her feet. "And a drink sounds like an excellent idea! I'm going to boil some water and make some tea." She trotted over towards the pile of equipment and supplies at the side of the snow hut. "We can have supper too, while we're at it. You must be hungry after flying all the way out here... and after all that cold we went through, building this shelter."

Harkwin nodded. "A meal would be nice."

Nacen took out a small boiler unit and filled it with a few water packets which had been kept inside an insulated crate and weren't yet frozen. The boiler was roughly similar in design to the oil lamp which was lighting up the hut, except that its flame burned hotter and was meant to heat up a tank of water. Then both dragons sat back and watched the small device as it slowly warmed up.

After a moment, Nacen turned back to the supply pile and started looking for food. "Now let's see what's on the menu today."

Harkwin walked over as well, and he used his tail to snag the oil lamp's carrying handle and bring it over for more light. Both dragons searched through a wooden crate which was filled with food rations. Some of the food had been freshly grown in the greenhouses at Central Camp, but mostly it was sealed food packets that contained dehydrated meals.

Looking through all the different meal packs, Harkwin picked a packet of beef stew, while Nacen grabbed a packet of steamed fish. The meals were all precooked within their respective packets, but then the water had been extracted to reduce weight. This dehydration, coupled with the extreme cold of the far south, meant that these meal packets could easily last through all the months of the expedition and possibly for years beyond that. The only downside was that this generally resulted in a lack of texture and taste, but bland food was better than no food. With their choice of food decided, they had nothing to do but wait for the boiler to finish its work.

Harkwin picked up a ration bar of compacted, dried nuts and fruits, and he gnawed on the snack as he waited. Meanwhile, Nacen took out an empty cylindrical metal drinking flask and scattered a few tea leaves inside it, taken from one specific pouch of her flight harness. The bubbling cavitation of the boiler sounded eerily similar to the rumble of the wind outside.

"Could we just use the boiling water from the hot spring?" Harkwin wondered aloud. "Or would that give us food poisoning?"

Nacen casually gestured towards the hot spring, and tendrils of magic extended from her paw towards the pool of water. A sphere of water lifted out of the hot spring, but then dropped back down as Nacen released her magic. "Using the spring water to clean scales is fine, but drinking? Probably not such a good idea. There aren't any germs--it's just too hot for that. However, the mineral content is so high that the water probably tastes very strange, and it might upset your stomach. I wouldn't recommend drinking it unless we run out of purified water."

"At that point we could just boil snow to get more water," Harkwin replied.

"True."

Once the water inside the boiler unit was vigorously bubbling, Nacen carefully poured it out into their respective meal packets, before adding the rest into her drinking flask to make tea. Harkwin swirled his packet around, getting the water to mix with the thick, sloppy brown mixture that was supposed to be a beef stew.

Even while it was still piping hot, Nacen took a bite of her steamed fish--which was also more like a stew as well, from the rehydration process. "Mmh. Not bad. How's your stew?"

Harkwin took a sip of his own meal, but he put down the packet and shook his head. "Too hot! I'm going to let it cool down for a bit."

"You don't like hot meals?"

"Warm meals are alright, but not hot. I don't like hot meals or hot drinks," Harkwin said.

"Really?" Nacen looked mildly intrigued. "But it's... we're in the polar south. You don't take hot things?"

Harkwin shook his head. "That's just a personal preference. I once scalded my tongue when I was young hatchling, and eating hot things was never very enticing after that."

Nacen chuckled amusedly. "Hmm. I don't judge! But I think it's nice to have something warm inside me."

Harkwin laughed too. "Hah."

As he waited for his meal to cool, Harkwin carefully refilled the oil lamp from a small metal fuel barrel that was amongst the supplies they'd carried over from Outpost 20. Oil was one of the resources that the expedition had quickly found here in the far south--it wasn't something particularly useful to bring back to the City of Wings, but out here in the far south, oil could be used to power lamps, boilers, and heaters for the expedition's use. Outpost 4 was a small mine which dug up the blackish liquid from underground, for use in other outposts and in Central Camp.

This oil lamp had lasted throughout the course of the construction of this snow hut, as he and Nacen had worked out in the storm, but now it was running low on oil and the flame was visibly weaker than before. As Harkwin refuelled it, the oil lamp burned brighter again and cast out its illumination across the inside of the snow hut. Nacen nodded approvingly.

Harkwin then started eating his food, which had cooled down quickly--it wasn't tasty, but it filled his stomach and would restore his spent strength. Just as that oil lamp needed its fuel, he needed food. Even as he slowly ate his meal, Nacen had been chowing down on her own meal and seemed to be almost done. She took a sip of her tea, then offered the flask towards Harkwin. "Want some?"

"I..."

"Or is it too hot for you?" Nacen lifted the flask to her muzzle and blew out a small jet of her own frostbreath. The magically cooled air washed across the flask, and ice crystals briefly blossomed on the tea's surface before melting away into the rest of the liquid. "Better now?"

"Probably. Thank you very much." Harkwin took the flask from her. He took a sip, and the warm liquid tasted fragrant as it slid down his throat. "Mmh. This is good tea. You must have brought the leaves yourself? This tastes better than the stuff they make back in Central."

"Oh yes. I can't stand that sweetened powder mix they use." Nacen took her flask and had another gulp of the tea, then she passed it back to Harkwin. "Alright then! Food and drinks--if not for the terrible storm raging outside, this would almost be exactly like just any normal meal I had. The company's infinitely better than usual, too."

Harkwin smiled. He enjoyed being with Nacen, even if it was a shame that it had been such harsh circumstance which had forced them into this scenario. "Until we freeze to death, we'll make the best of it."

"I like the sound of that. We have food, we have drinks, and it's just the two of us together. Let's just ignore the storm and pretend this is like... any regular day at the outpost." Hopping to her feet, Nacen shook herself all over, which dislodged a loose scale from a spot on her neck. "I need to... Hmm. Where's the toilet bucket? I need to urinate."

Harkwin raised an eye ridge. "Toilet bucket?"

"Oh yes. Outposts don't have fancy waste reclamation systems like back in Central Camp. There's always a pit latrine dug a short distance away from each outpost, along with a few bucket toilets as a backup." Searching through the pile of supplies, Nacen took out what Harkwin had assumed to be another cylindrical metal barrel--but instead this revealed itself to be a metal bucket with a sealable removable lid, half filled with some sort of clay or sand. "This is the real adventurer's life for you, letting yourself go into a bucket. Just make sure you don't miss, and _don't_tip over the bucket. And keep the lid shut after you're done, so that the clay inside will absorb the smell."

"That makes sense," Harkwin agreed. Although he had never actually spent a night out in one of the expedition's many outposts, they would obviously have fewer amenities than Central Camp, and sanitation was clearly one of those aspects. Being on an expedition required much sacrifice compared to the comforts of drakken civilization, and this one was just one small part of that.

Lifting the bucket by its handle, Nacen went over to the far side of the snow hut. The aerotow rope which they'd been using earlier was still connecting their flight harnesses, but the close confines of their shelter meant that there was easily enough room for them to move all about without even stretching the rope taut. Harkwin averted his gaze as Nacen relieved herself--partially to give her some privacy, and partially because he was still finishing up his food.

When Nacen was done, she sealed up the bucket and left it at the side of the shelter. She trotted back to the sleeping bags and lay down again, then she turned on her side and stared at Harkwin, who was still eating slowly. "So! Harkwin, let's chat. I've been curious. Tell me--why'd you come here?"

"Why did I come here? Hmm. That's a question." As he thought about it, Harkwin took another sip of the tea. "The sedentary life always seemed... a bit too ordinary for me. After I finished advanced vocational training for my air affinity, I heard about an expedition heading out to explore the far south and thought that it sounded exciting. So I applied, and got a job as a recon scout." Harkwin paused to slurp up another soft chunk of beef from his stew. "To come out here to the unknown, braving the dangers to search out new land, with so many new things we could learn and discover--I'm not quite sure why, but I find that deeply appealing."

Nacen's crest fin twitched, and she let out a giggle. "Haha. You've got hope! I admire that. The open sky called to you, and you listened."

"I guess so." Harkwin swallowed down the last of his stew, then he took the empty meal packets and put them by the side of the snow hut next to the bucket toilet. Given that they would be spending the next few days stuck in this tiny snow shelter, keeping things organized was essential, and waste ought to go with waste.

"But what about you? Why'd you come here?" he asked, nodding towards Nacen.

Shuffling her wings, Nacen scratched at an itch on her neck. "You know... Whenever anyone asked me why I came on this expedition, I have always told them some variant of what you just said. When the research team leaders interviewed me and asked about my motivations, I always talked about how I loved scientific exploration and learning. But honestly... that was only part of the reason why I came here. There were other reasons too."

"Such as?" Harkwin prompted.

Nacen laughed again, sounding slightly embarrassed. She let out a sigh and shook her head. "Huuuh... Honestly, it was money? Money! This expedition pays really well, and... uh... my clan is a... not a tier one clan, in terms of financials. Going on this expedition seemed like a good way to make contacts and advance my career faster."

Harkwin laughed too, but not in a mocking manner, but from amusement. "Haha, really? You came all the way out here, braved all the dangers of the polar south, and gave away more than half a year of your life just for the pay?"

"It's good pay! I do enjoy doing the science, and the landscape here is beautiful in a bleak way, but yes, it was the pay numbers which got me interested in this expedition in the first place," Nacen admitted. "Risk pays well. Of course, I guess that means nothing if we end up freezing to death in this storm. Good pay is only an advantage if we survive to make it back to the city."

Harkwin just grinned. "Interesting motivation..."

Nacen stuck her tongue out at him. "You judgemental, smug scout, you! I bet you come from some rich clan, and that's why you have the freedom to come here just purely for the adventurousness_and the _exploration and all those other high-minded ideals. I came here to do a tough, challenging job well, in return for proper compensation and advancement. I'm a pragmatist, and I don't apologize for that."

"I never said you had to. You're out here exploring the world and being a pioneer, and that's the important bit," Harkwin told her, and he honestly wasn't judging Nacen. Everyone was different and had different beliefs, and he couldn't fault her for having her own reasons for coming on this expedition.

Taking a deep breath, Nacen slumped back against the sleeping bag and wrapped her wings around herself. For a moment Harkwin thought she was going to sleep, but then she blinked her eyes open and stared at him again. "As enlightening as this conversation has been, you misunderstood my question."

"Explain?" Harkwin prompted.

"When I was asking you why you came here, I wasn't asking you about your reasons for coming on the polar expedition as a whole. I was specifically asking why you came _here_to Outpost 20." Nacen glanced away, and she used her paws to idly play with the tip of her tail. "This whole... coming out here to get me... thing. Why'd you do it?"

Harkwin replied instantly, because this seemed obvious to him. "I came because I had to. The storm was coming faster than expected, so all the outposts had to be warned."

"But did you know of the danger? I was thinking about it, even as we were building this shelter--when you flew into the outpost and told me to evacuate, you sounded scared."

"Because I was," Harkwin admitted. "Back at Central Camp, Legrane--the scout leader--didn't want me to come here after we got the updated weather data. He said it was too risky, but I said we couldn't just assume you would have seen the storm coming." Shrugging, Harkwin stared at the oil lamp's flickering flame. "I just... Someone had to come warn you about the storm. I knew it was a danger to me too, but I came anyway. I suppose that makes me foolish."

"That's not the word I would use." Nacen's gaze was distant as she stared at the shelter's wall, looking contemplative. "I would call it brave. Maybe heroic. Thank you for that."

"You're welcome," Harkwin replied. He wasn't sure what else to add to that.

Nacen shifted her gaze to watch him--just staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. "If you weren't here, I would probably have frozen to death in my sleep, back in that tent. Even if I'd woken up as the winds tore apart the tent, I wouldn't have been able to build this whole snow shelter on my own--not fast enough before the storm froze me." Their gazes held for a few, long seconds, then Nacen blinked and shuddered all over. "I don't want to die. I want to live, and Harkwin I... um... hmm." Shaking her head, Nacen walked over to the messy pile of equipment and supplies and began organizing them.

"No use worrying about the storm. Just make the best of your life, for as long as you can." Lying down on the sleeping bag, Harkwin lazily pulled the release straps of his flight harness, and he rolled his shoulders to let the gear slip off his body. He put the flight harness aside, with all its various pouches still intact. It was more comfortable to lie down now, without those straps and pouches all held against his body and getting in the way. Idly, Harkwin noticed that that rope they'd been using for the aerotow was still connecting both his own flight harness and Nacen's flight harness. Why hadn't they disconnected that before they'd even landed here? Pushing himself to his feet, he strolled over towards Nacen.

Nacen was still organizing the supply pile, but she froze up as Harkwin approached her. She watched him with her wide, dark eyes, going completely still except for her crest fin, which perked straight up off her head. Harkwin even noticed that she shivered slightly when he reached his paw towards her. Nevertheless he didn't think much of this odd behaviour, and simply unclipped the shackle from Nacen's flight harness. Going back to his own sleeping bag, he lay down again and started coiling up the tow rope to put it back in its pouch. "Are you cold? You're shivering."

Nacen's crest fin drooped, and she shifted her weight between her paws. "I'm not shivering. I was trembling. I thought you were going to... well... hmmm... Ah, whatever. If we're going to freeze in the next few days, why am I even hesitating?" In a quick motion Nacen slipped off the shoulders straps of her own flight harness and shrugged her gear off. After impatiently kicking the harness aside, Nacen hesitantly took a step towards Harkwin, then she darted forward and dragged the other sleeping bag over so that it was right next to the one Harkwin was already sitting on. Then she lay down right beside him and leaned up against his side.

Noting the beige-scaled female pressed right up against him, Harkwin raised an eye ridge. "You... are very close now. Are you sure you're not cold?"

Nacen giggled, and she shifted her weight to rub herself against his side. "Hehe. Do I feel cold?"

Harkwin had to admit that she did not. Nacen's scales felt warm and smooth as they slid against his. "You feel warm. This is... actually very comfortable."

"Ohhh yes. Yes it is. Hmmrrr..." Nacen made a pleased, rumbling noise from the back of her throat. Reaching around, she grabbed Harkwin's wing and unfurled it so that it covered her back like a blanket. "Hug me, please."

Harkwin wasn't going to turn down that request. He wrapped his wing around Nacen's body and pulled her tighter against his side. "It's efficient to share body warmth, but I'm not sure hugging is very professional."

"Mmmrrrr..." Nacen again made that pleased, rumbly noise. "We're not professionals. Maybe we were professional explorers, but now we're just survivors. We're going to survive this storm, you and I, together. Hopefully."

The beds back in Central Camp were usually kept warm with heaters and thick blankets, but this was a different and arguably superior sort of warmth. In all the months of the expedition, there hadn't been hugs or much sort of physical contact at all, and Harkwin couldn't quite enunciate just how nice it felt to snuggle with Nacen. He wanted to hold her and hug her and never let go, feeling that intimacy and comfort from her close presence.

Just huddling together for warmth would have been good enough, but Nacen made it even worse (or even better?) by her constant motion as she shifted and kept rubbing herself against his side. An intense desire ran through Harkwin's whole body, sending a shiver down his back. Harkwin nosed at the side of her neck, then he murmured in her ear. "You really should keep still, or this hugging session is going to get even more unprofessional."

Nacen's crest fin flicked back up. "Is that a promise?" Leaning in, she nuzzled at the side of his neck. "Harkwin, you're one of the few actual friends I have on this expedition. I really like you..."

Harkwin grinned. "I like you too! It's nice to have friends." He could feel the slow, gentle motion of Nacen's tongue as she licked his neck--the action of one dragon licking another was sometimes a display of affection, but that was more often reserved for parents and young hatchlings. It was far too intimate of an action to do to casual friends or acquaintances.

Lowering his head, Harkwin sniffed at Nacen's neck, and then he licked her in return. When his tongue reached her crest fin, she shivered and let out a soft gasp as he licked that sensitive membrane. "Ahh. Oh, yes... That feels--mmmhh...!" Whatever she'd been about to say, it was cut off when Harkwin kissed her.

Snout to snout, with eyes closed, the two dragons let their tongues touch against each other's. Harkwin let himself get lost in that intimate sensation, slowly exploring Nacen's mouth--it was slightly sloppy, but that didn't stop either of them. Hot, eager excitement was coursing through his veins, and he had to deliberately clench down the muscles of his underbelly to restrain his arousal as blood pumped to his loins. His phallus throbbed and tried to extend, pressing against the walls of his genital slit.

When they finally pulled back from each other, Nacen blinked her eyes open and her gaze held a deep, intense longing. Without any words exchanged, she stood up and pushed her shoulder against Harkwin's wing base.

Harkwin obliged her and rolled onto his back, unfurling his wings partially so that he didn't lie on them. Nacen stepped over him so that they were chest to chest, pressed right up against each other. She pressed her snout against his, but didn't quite kiss him. "I want you... I want you so bad. I don't think I've ever been more turned on in my life, which is strange because we're caught out in a deadly storm and we could very well freeze to death in a few hours," Nacen murmured.

"Maybe it's the danger that makes it more exciting," Harkwin replied. He playfully licked Nacen on the side of her nuzzle, making her grin.

"Possible." Using her forepaws to clutch at Harkwin's shoulders, Nacen slid her body back and forth, lightly humping against him. At this point, he couldn't quite control certain instincts anymore. With Nacen's underbelly pressed up against his, his genital slit muscles relaxed, allowing his phallus to push out of the fleshy internal compartment that normally kept it contained. Out in the open, his erection rapidly grew to full length and girth as it filled with blood, sent by the rapid beating of his heart.

It had been many months since Harkwin had last had any sort of intimate contact with anyone at all. Before he'd even set out on the polar expedition, he'd had a break up with his last partner as it became clear their paths were set to diverge--with him going to explore the far south, and her staying on in the city. That end of that companionship had been mutual and necessary, yet also painful, for that relationship had lasted more than a year before circumstance had broken it. But now, past partners and previous experiences were the last thing on Harkwin's mind, for Nacen had all his attention. He ran his paws down her sides, feeling her curves, her scales, her warmth.

Nacen surely could feel his erection pressing against her underbelly, leaving a thin trail of wetness on her scales as pre-ejaculate dripped from its tip. "I've fantasized about this moment quite a lot," Nacen casually admitted. "I've spent plenty of time all alone in my outpost tent, wishing that I'd had someone with me to be company... you, preferably."

"Why did it take a storm and life-threatening danger for this to happen?" Harkwin wondered.

"Probably because you just kept missing all my obviously-far-too-subtle hints that I was fond of you," Nacen muttered. Turning herself around, she switched her attention from his upper half to his lower half. Instead of just licking at his neck and snout, she spread his hindlegs apart and slowly ran her tongue up the side of his genital slit, teasingly avoiding the rigid length of masculine flesh jutting out of his slit.

On his part, Harkwin was treated to the sight of Nacen's underbelly right in front of his snout. "Mmh. Now that's a lovely view..." Nacen's scales were beige coloured on her sides, but her underbelly was a slightly paler shade that was closer to white, and her genital slit had a faint pinkish tinge. Right between her hindlegs, the smooth interweaving lines of her scales became even smaller until there was a short cleft that was slightly wet with slick arousal. Harkwin was lying on his back and Nacen was straddled over him, and he eagerly sniffed at and began licking at her slit. Her scales felt smooth and slightly slippery, but right at the line of her slit the exposed flesh was warm and soft against his snout and tongue.

Harkwin's enthusiasm was equally met as Nacen started playing with his reproductive equipment. One of her paws rubbed the side of Harkwin's genital slit, while her other paw wrapped around his phallus and started gently stroking it. Pre-ejaculate was leaking from the tip and also from his genital slit, and Nacen's paw spread that lubricating fluid all over his length.

Just as was the case for any male dragon, Harkwin's erection was a sleek, unscaled length of smooth flesh which tapered to a point, jutting out proudly from his genital slit. It curved slightly towards his chest and was smooth down most of its length, though right at the base were a series of fleshy, increasingly protruding ridges right before it anchored into his genital slit. Most drakes just had a slight bulge at the base, but having ridges instead was a semi-rare anatomical variation. All that blood-engorged tissue was highly sensitive, and even though Harkwin's view was blocked by Nacen's body, he could feel every slow motion of her paw as she stroked him. Tingly jolts of pleasure coursed through his erect length, especially when her paw slid over those extra sensitive ridges near his base.

Harkwin wasn't sure if he had ever been more aroused in his life. Even ignoring companionship, it had been more than a week since he'd felt any sort of sexual pleasure even from his own solo effort. There wasn't much privacy in Central Camp's dormitories, and flying all day as a scout often left him too tired out at the end of the day to even bother with self-pleasure. But now he had Nacen, and the two of them were trapped here together.

The cold, hostile roaring of the storm seemed to fade away, as nothing really mattered except for the drakka right in front of him. Harkwin pressed his snout against her underbelly so that he could bury his tongue as far into her as he could reach, licking and slurping at her slit for that wet, salty, musky taste of her arousal. Nacen moaned softly, and she stroked his length more firmly, rewarding Harkwin with more pleasure and making him twitch.

Nacen smelled really nice; too nice, in fact, such that a faint warning sounded in the back of Harkwin's head. Even under the mineral-rich odour from the bubbling hot spring, he could smell Nacen's scent. It was totally normal for every dragon to have a certain unique natural smell about their scales, but the smell faintly reminded Harkwin of one particular pheromone-laden scent that had more specificity, and signalled something more concerning.

Nacen had just started daintily using the tip of her tongue to lick at the tip of Harkwin's erection, but as much as he didn't want her to stop, his sense of personal responsibility demanded that he interrupt. Pulling his snout back for a moment, Harkwin tapped Nacen's rear with his paw. "Uhh, Nacen? I have a question."

Nacen rolled her tongue around the tip of Harkwin's erection, then she sucked and gave it a quick kiss, which made his hindpaws clench up. "Hmmm?"

Harkwin swallowed nervously. It shouldn't have felt awkward for him to ask, but he still felt awkward. "You're not in heat, are you? Because... you smell really good. Sort of like you're in heat."

That made Nacen stop, and her crest fin perked up in curiosity. "Oh. Do I?" Curling around, Nacen nosed at her hindquarters and sniffed herself, then she stared at Harkwin. "Smells fine to me. I don't think I'm in heat? Probably not."

Leaning forward, Harkwin tried to lick Nacen's snout since she was half turned back towards him. With him still lying on his back, his tongue could only barely just reach. "How can you not know for sure? Isn't it... well, it's your body."

Nacen responded by using the base of her tail to lightly thump Harkwin on his head. "Hey, easy for you to say as a drake! You've never had to go through a heat cycle."

Unlike some other creatures, dragons were intermittent breeders and females were only fertile for a brief period each year--called their oestrus cycle, or simply heat. But the complicated part was that the specific time period was unique to each drakka, rather than being linked to something common like the seasons.

"Being in heat isn't like a... period of madness and lust. It's not always as obvious as some people might think," Nacen continued. "For me, usually I just feel a little more easily aroused than normal, and maybe a little warmer too. I don't... quite think I'm feeling like that? I mean, yes I'm feeling warm and yes I'm feeling aroused, but I think that's just from you."

"But you keep track of the dates, right? So you should just...know if you're in heat or not...?" Harkwin asked hesitantly. He didn't want to question Nacen too heavily about her own body, but there would be consequences for them both if they didn't get this right. From past experience with previous partners, Harkwin was somewhat familiar with what heat smelled like; but that was as a warning not to mate, lest they end up accidentally making an egg.

Nacen frowned, her snout scrunching up in a cute expression. "Well... it's more complicated than that. How do I explain this? Ever since I had my first fertility cycle when I was a fledgling, my cycles have been really irregular. I thought it would get better as I got older, but a decade on, things are still off."

Harkwin wasn't quite sure how to process this. He was still really aroused. "Um... You know, I've never actually thought about it that much."

Using her paw, Nacen casually gave a few strokes to Harkwin's rigidly erect length. "No surprises there. You drakes are lucky--you never have to worry about heat. _You_never have to be worried about going out one day in the city and getting weird looks from every passing drake because you stink of heat but you can't smell it yourself. No, you're just always fertile and ready to breed, aren't you? This thing here shoots off all year round, haha."

"I believe that's how it works," Harkwin agreed.

Nacen grinned. "Anyway, as I was saying--my heat cycles aren't very regular. I once went into heat twice in a single year, then after that it was more than a year and a half before it happened again. Just... so annoying. It's weird back there."

Harkwin sniffed at Nacen's underbelly, then he resumed licking at her genital slit. Her slit looked increasingly puffy and it glistened with liquid arousal, openly broadcasting that she was ready to mate. "It's nice back here..."

That comment made Nacen laugh. "Hahaha... But seriously--I don't think I'm in heat. Four months ago I was due to go into heat right as the expedition started, but then my heat just never came. I think the stress of the whole expedition and the constant cold (which meant I'm using frost magic all the time) got my body confused and put the whole thing on hold."

"Oh, that's good." Then Harkwin paused, and it was his turn to frown as he thought through his comment. "Or is it bad? Umm..."

"It's bad in that I wish my oviduct would stop being inconsistent, but it's also good in that we can do what we're about to do without having to worry about responsibilities." Humping her hips, Nacen lightly rubbed her genital slit against Harkwin's snout. Then she suddenly stood up and spun around so that she was once again head to head with him. Sitting down on Harkwin's lower torso, she nudged his snout with hers. "But I'm not infertile! I'm a healthy, young, very independent and capable drakka. I'm not broken."

Harkwin felt slightly aroused by hearing Nacen's bossy confidence. It turned him in a way he didn't realise it could. "I didn't say you were."

"Good, because I'm not. Whenever my heat eventually comes, I bet I could make an egg. Not that I'm going to, but I could," Nacen said.

Hearing that sort of thing also got Harkwin aroused too. The mere thought of breeding Nacen and making an egg with her was distinctly exciting, even if it wasn't something they could do. "Can I make a weird confession? I find it kind of sexy when you talk like that."

Nacen giggled. "Hehe. Why would that be weird? Reproduction is the most natural thing in the world. Not that I'm going to do that right now... Settling down with a lovely mate to call my own is more of a longer-term goal." Nacen laughed again, glancing away embarrassedly. "Aha... My turn to make a weird confession--sometimes when I'm all alone in Outpost 20, I fantasize about that too. Not just the, 'I want toseduce that hot, friendly scout who visits me every few days, and have dirty, dirty, rough sex with him in my tent'_fantasy, but the, '_in the distant future wouldn't it be nice to have a handsome, kind mate and a modest but liveable home in the city and maybe a family with a cute little hatchling or two' fantasy." Nacen paused, and her crest fin twitched. "Is that too deep of a confession?"

Harkwin smiled, and he used his paws to hold Nacen's paws, right where they were pressing on his chest. "That is very deep, but also sweet of you! I've never really put that much thought into my future."

"Oh, I've put way too much thought into my future!" Nacen admitted. "My scales are yellow-beige, yours are a grey and white, so I've even fantasized about what sort of colour mix our non-existent future child could end up being. And... I don't know why I'm telling you this."

Harkwin burst out into amused laughter. "Hahaha, that's actually adorable. I bet our non-existent child would be real cute. You might as well fantasize while you can, Nacen, because we could very well freeze to death in the next few hours or days."

"That's true. I guess I'll just settle for what I can have," Nacen replied. She touched her snout against Harkwin's in another slow, drawn out kiss that seemed to channel all his energy into white hot arousal.

Pulling away, Nacen stood up and took a few steps back onto her own sleeping bag, before crouching down her forelegs and raising her hindquarters. Her tail flicked from side to side, and Harkwin's gaze tracked the movement of the appendage. Then Nacen lifted her tail in a graceful curve, exposing her underbelly invitingly as she took up a mating pose.

"Oh, you are so beautiful, you know that?" Pushing his wing back against his sleeping bag, Harkwin flipped himself onto his belly and sprung to his feet to run over. In his eagerness, one of his forepaws got caught on the edge between his sleeping bag and Nacen's, and he nearly tripped up before managing to regain his balance with a small hop. "Woah...! I'm fine."

Even while holding her mating pose, Nacen had been glancing over her shoulder to watch him, and she giggled. "Hehe... I appreciate your enthusiasm."

"Just pretend I didn't do that. I'm normally way more agile and light-footed," Harkwin muttered jokingly. Taking just a tad more care, he trotted up behind Nacen. A simple, primal instinct called for him to lower his snout and sniff at her slit, but there had already been plenty of that just a moment before. He already knew what Nacen smelt like--young, healthy, female, and aroused, which was about as good as smells went. Now an even deeper instinct demanded that he mount her properly, and Harkwin happily did so.

Stepping forwards and rearing up on his hindlegs, he moved over her so that his chest was against her back and wings, with his hips aligned up with hers. His phallus was still fully erect and it stuck out rigidly from his genital slit, just ready and waiting to be used properly. Every moment he spent not penetrating her felt like time wasted--his phallus had been coaxed out of his own genital slit, and now what he needed was to return that sensitive organ to a soft, warm place.

Harkwin used his forepaws to hold onto Nacen's hips and sides, while he jabbed about at her underbelly, trying to find that one exact spot he was looking for. Each time the tip of his length poked at Nacen's underside it would leave a small spot of slick pre-ejaculate on her scales, and Nacen would shift her posture to try and get him lined up. "Higher up. Higher..."

There was a brief moment of anticipation for them both, then finally he made contact--instead of smooth but rigid scale plates, Harkwin felt a spot of warm and softness right against his tip, and without hesitation he made a slow thrust forward. "Tss!" Harkwin grit his teeth and let out a pleased gasp, and he heard Nacen moan.

"Ahh..."

That first, exploratory stroke was absolute bliss. All around his rigid, sensitive length, Harkwin felt a wonderful sensation of warm, moist, softness. As he slid himself in, he could feel Nacen's muscular walls spreading apart to let in his erection, then contracting to squeeze him lightly, and there was just the perfect amount of wet, stimulating friction. Harkwin clutched at Nacen's sides, pulling her back as he thrust in deep, and he wasn't the only one moving--Nacen pushed her hips backwards as well, until finally his genital slit brushed against hers and he was fully penetrated.

Holding onto Nacen, Harkwin hugged her close and rubbed his cheek against her neck. Buried deep inside her, it was a level of intimacy that had him almost dizzy from sheer arousal and desire. "Nacen you are... just..."

Nacen made that soft, rumbly, reassuring noise again, and he could directly feel that vibration from in her chest. She curled her head back to plant an affectionate lick on his snout. "Hmmmmmrrr...! That feels good! Very filling. Oh, it has been way too long since I've had something like this..."

Harkwin unfurled his wings and wrapped them down around Nacen, just to pull her closer against him. His phallus was throbbing with each heartbeat, and the wonderful sensation of Nacen's slit surrounded his sensitive length all around. After a moment of stillness to enjoy that all-encompassing warmth, Harkwin slowly drew his hips back to feel the pleasure of motion again.

It all felt so instinctively good. Some of the thinner, upper ridges at the base of his erection rubbed lightly against Nacen's slit as they slipped out one by one, and Harkwin had to override an instinct that told him to instantly ram himself deep again. Instead he pulled out further until it was only the tip of his erection still penetrated--the further he went out, the further he could thrust back in, and he did exactly that. Once again there was that delightful spreading sensation, mixed in with the ultimate combination of warmth and wetness and pressure. Harkwin's phallus throbbed, releasing a few dribbles of pre-ejaculate which added to the mix of bodily fluid already wetting the two dragon's genitals.

Harkwin slid in until he was almost fully penetrated again, with his ridges brushing against Nacen's slit, then he took a deep breath. He could easily smell Nacen's scent in the air--that natural, inoffensive and faintly enticing smell which was unique to her scales and skin. It half reminded him of the scent of a female in heat, but not really, even if imagining that Nacen was fertile got him more aroused. Playfully he opened his mouth and closed his jaws around her neck, nibbling on her in a loose mating bite. "Mnngnaww... Ngawww..." But then he stopped. "Actually I probably shouldn't do that."

Nacen's crest fin twitched, and she glanced back at him. "Hmm, why not?"

"Because I wouldn't want to accidentally bite too hard and damage your scales, since we're trapped in this snow shelter with no access to proper medicine. It might get infected," Harkwin explained.

This made Nacen break out into genuine, unrestrained laughter. "Pfffttt hahahahaha!" She slapped a paw repeatedly against the sleeping bag. "Trapped in this... Haha...! Shouldn't... mating bite because... Ahahahah!"

Harkwin was still inside her, and he could even feel Nacen's genital slit tensing up and squeezing on his erect length in time with each laugh. He laughed along too, sharing her mirth and still holding her close. "Haha. But it's true, isn't it?"

Nacen snorted, and a wide grin crossed her snout. "Hehehaha... Yes it's true! We only have a small medical kit here, though I don't think any infection is likely from that minor sort of wound. Seriously, we could just freeze to death in the next few hours! A mating bite is nothing compared to that. You could just bite me if you want. It's hot if you bite me... though it's also hot that you care enough to be so concerned for my health."

"Hmm... Maybe I'll just do this instead." Rather than biting Nacen's neck, Harkwin licked at her crest fin, perked up from the back of her neck.

"Ooh, that is equally acceptable. Now keep going." Wiggling her hindquarters, Nacen pushed back against Harkwin's hips to entice him into thrusting again. With her shoulders and upper body resting against the sleeping bag, Nacen reached a forepaw down to touch herself, without getting in the way of Harkwin's continued effort.

"Slow or fast?" Harkwin asked her.

"Uh... Slow until I beg you to go faster. Or until you can't possibly stand to go slow anymore," Nacen decided.

And so Harkwin did it slow--not as slow as before, but at a steady, gradual pace he started thrusting his hips. Nacen moved her tail and entwined it with his, and she rocked herself to enhance each motion. It wasn't fast and frantic (yet), but coupling at a slower rate felt pleasurable in a different way. Each careful stroke seemed to last so long, providing a drawn-out dose of rewardingly tingly sexual pleasure that was repeatedly over and over--in, then out, then in-out again, and over again. Their two bodies moved against each other, getting into a steady rhythm.

It started off feeling good, and it only seemed to get better. Harkwin could feel his hearts pumping hard in his chest, and his whole body felt tense and excited. Every time he humped into Nacen, a jolt of pleasure flooded through his body, originating in his sensitive phallus but then building up in a tight pressure deep inside his groin. His breathing got heavier, then it became gasping, desperate pants of pleasure and exertion.

Though he wasn't even really thinking about it, Harkwin hadn't ever been so tired in his life. Flying from morning all the way to night while near continuously using his air affinity would have been draining enough, but then he'd spent several hours using frostbreath to build this snow shelter with Nacen. All the while they'd been exposed to the arriving force of the storm, and the windy cold had stolen even more of his strength. Now their work was done and the snow hut was warm and humid, yet Harkwin had still been worn out. He needed time and rest to recover his strength, and there was an ache running through his whole body.

Yet somehow his mind overrode all that fatigue. Despite his exhaustion, the young male dragon found some hidden reserve of energy to keep going, thrusting into Nacen repeatedly. Lust and desire for her had washed over all of Harkwin's conscious thoughts, erasing concerns for the future and overriding his body's needs except for that one most basic requirement--to mate. He needed to mate with Nacen, to pleasure her, to bond and to love and even reproduce; and no amount of tiredness was going to stop him from accomplishing that goal.

Harkwin hugged Nacen close, feeling her wings pressed against his chest. He licked at her neck again, and she let out a pleased moan. Though it had started slow, Harkwin couldn't hold that pace--it felt too good, and he needed even more. Gradually he began to accelerate, thrusting faster to get more stimulation. Instead of going all the way in and out, Harkwin stayed deep and shortened his strokes so he could speed up--less amplitude, but more speed which meant more motion, providing even more of that wonderful wet friction.

The ridges at the base of his erection repeatedly rubbed against Nacen's genital slit--especially those thinner, less noticeable upper ridges which slid in with much greater ease than the lower ridges. Nacen tilted her hips so that each of Harkwin's thrusts would be pressing even harder against one specific spot. "Harkwin...! Yes, oh yes, oh yes. Keep going just like that. Right there. Ahhh..."

Hearing Nacen moan in pleasure was an auditory aphrodisiac which sent Harkwin's arousal skyrocketing, as if it hadn't been high enough already. The tension inside his groin was building up, and every stroke seemed to feel even better than the last. Wet squelching sounds accompanied each gliding motion, along with the sounds of scales slapping against scales as their underbellies met.

The intense pleasure seized control of his mind, and Harkwin surrendered to it. In that moment, passion and lust rendered everything else less important by comparison. Any degree of self-consciousness, or fear about the storm, or worry for the future--it was all unimportant in that singular instant. All he wanted to do was to keep mating with Nacen, chasing that growing pleasure until he could take no more.

Though he wasn't sure if he was just imagining it, it felt like Nacen's slit had gotten slightly tighter than before--as if her walls were moulding to his erect length, squeezing and massaging to send him ever closer to that final orgasmic peak. The taste of her slit was still fresh on his muzzle, and her scent filled his nostrils, working him up even further.

At some point in their coupling, Harkwin had gotten so lost in the mating that he'd closed his eyes and rested his head against Nacen's neck. Suddenly he heard her take a sharp draw of breath, and she shifted her weight backwards to slam her hips against his. "Huh! Ahhh ha... That's... ooh!" she moaned. Their tails were still loosely entwined, but then Nacen's tail coiled tight and pulled him deep, making it difficult for Harkwin to pull out very far. He blinked his eyes open, just in time to see Nacen's reach her own climax.

The young female shuddered, and her wings flailed about and slapped against the sleeping bags. Nacen's jaw was open in a silent gasp, but her eyes and snout were all scrunched up in an expression of overwhelming bliss. No doubt about it now--Harkwin could distinctly feel her slit clenching up, repeatedly massaging his length with a specific muscle pattern that seemed specifically intended to draw him deeper and coax him into his own release.

It felt so right_to hold Nacen close and to keep mating with her, feeling her writhe about in pleasure. Harkwin continued to thrust, even as he danced on the edge of his own climax. Every thrust could be his last as the pleasure bubbled up within him, almost on the verge of being unleashed. Still lost in the thralls of her own pleasure, Nacen moaned out his name. "Harkwin...! _Yes..." And that was enough to kick him over the edge.

His pleasure climbed to an even higher level, but then it plateaued and held that way for a few brief seconds. Muscles in his underbelly began to tremble and tense up involuntarily, and various internal glands swelled with precious fluid that would soon be released. It was about to happen, though he could neither rush nor delay it--reflexes had seized all control of his body, and Harkwin could do nothing but obey primal instincts. Nature demanded that he do his best to breed his mate.

As Harkwin tensed up, his phallus throbbed and stiffened to maximum possible rigidity. The ridges at the base all flared outwards and swelled as blood rushed into them, becoming slightly more noticeable but drastically more sensitive. His ridges suddenly needed stimulation, and the warm, reassuring tightness of a female dragon's insides were the exact sort of environment that would satisfy. That mad desire to be inside of her made him shift about on his hindlegs, and he even raised one hindpaw and rested it on Nacen's thigh as instinct required that he thrust as deep as possible. Arching his back, Harkwin made a few, final, desperate thrusts into Nacen. Each thrust was a bit more forceful and slid his erect length ever deeper, with those flared-out ridges locking him in and preventing him from pulling out, until finally his genital slit was pressed right against hers and he was at maximum depth.

Harkwin had wanted to moan Nacen's name, just as she'd said his, but all that came from his mouth was a series of incoherent, overwhelmed whimpers. "Hmmmmm... Ahaha... Nace--aahhh!" That sound involuntarily became a choked half-roar as the arousal building up within him explosively released.

It had felt good before, but now the pleasure soared beyond comparison. His groin muscles contracted hard, and the young male almost blacked out from the sheer rewarding intensity of finally bringing this mating to its conclusion. Warm jets of thick, liquid relief fired out from deep inside his underbelly, shooting up his phallus in waves of absolute ecstasy. Even though Harkwin was already fully hilted into Nacen, his hips bucked automatically with each shot and he ground his genital slit against hers, in synchrony with each throb of his phallus that sent a fresh spurt of life-creating semen into her depths.

It had been months since Harkwin had enjoyed the satisfaction of properly mating, and now his body wasn't going to miss this chance. Repeatedly pulses of intense, undeniable pleasure emptied him out, as his internal testicles squeezed to give everything they had and send it pouring into his mate. It was so much that Harkwin could feel a distinct sense of added_wetness_ inside Nacen, as he gave her his pent-up seed.

Harkwin's ejaculatory release prolonged Nacen's ongoing orgasm. Her slit felt so tight against him, not enough to hinder his release but just enough to keep all of it inside her. Her muscles contracted down in a rhythmic pattern of her own, and both young dragons shuddered against each other until their mutual stimulation had matched their bodies up, and they were in unison. Each pulse of Harkwin's phallus made Nacen's slit clench down on him, which made him spurt out yet another strong pulse of seed, making her squeeze him again. The shared intimacy felt uniquely satisfying. Pleasure hit absolute maximum and just kept going, continuing far beyond what any solo activity might have allowed as it echoed between them in waves of blissful relief.

"Nacen...! Nacen... Ah... Nacen..." Harkwin mindlessly mumbled her name, repeating it over and over until Nacen pressed her snout against his and they kissed. It was a wet, sloppy kiss as their tongues intertwined, but they both moaned. "Mhhh!"

Harkin just clutched Nacen close and held on tight, resting much of his weight on her back but unable to think at all, as he was reduced to nothing but a shuddering, desperate animal driven by mating instinct. He had no option but to ride it out, savouring the experience as his body worked through all his stored arousal, pumping it steadily into his mate for however many short, overwhelmingly ecstatic moments it took.

Finally the waves of pleasure started to wind down, bringing less of that overwhelming intensity but more satisfaction and relief. It felt almost as good, but in an entirely different way. Whereas the intensity had kept him tensed up and stiff, the satisfaction blanketed his mind and made him feel sleepy and exhausted. Nacen's slit clenched down on him a few times, and his phallus throbbed weakly in response but he had no more seed to give her.

Harkwin slumped loosely against Nacen, and he dropped his hindleg back on to the ground. His forelimbs were still hugging her sides, with his forepaws against her chest to hold her close. It was a real struggle to keep his eyes open as the day's tiredness abruptly caught up to him, along with the added sleepiness of a mating afterglow.

Both dragons panted tiredly, catching their breath, then Nacen let her hindlegs collapse and she dropped belly down against her sleeping bag. Harkwin was still slumped on top of her back, but he rolled off her and onto the adjacent sleeping bag. His phallus slid out of her in a smooth motion, bringing with it a splattering of sticky fluid. Staring blankly up at the snowy ceiling, Harkwin tried his hardest to focus his thoughts and not fall asleep. "Nacen..."

"Oohhh, that was great! That was every bit as sexy as I dreamed it would be," Nacen sighed.

"Hmmr. _You're_sexy," Harkwin muttered. He felt so sleepy that staying conscious was a challenge, let alone providing intelligent conversation. "Sexy, you. Lovely and pretty and smart and funny and clever. Nice Nacen."

"Why, thanks. I very much like you too!" Nacen grinned. She turned her head so that she was snout-to-snout against Harkwin. Without even looking, she curled her tail around and wrapped it around the base of Harkwin's still reasonably rigid erection, making him jerk as she coiled the tip of her tail around his ridges. After an ejaculatory release his whole organ was overly sensitive, especially those ridges. "It's been such a long time since I've had something like this inside me. It's got such a nice shape to look at. Very filling, with a whole bunch of extra stimulating ridges. The rest of the drake attached to it is great too."

"Thanks. Although--ahhh--it's very sensitive right now, and the drake attached to it would prefer if you didn't--arrghhhh--didn't do that, right so soon!" Harkwin exclaimed, squirming slightly from the tickly overstimulation. It did slightly push back his sleepiness, though.

"Mmh. But it's fun to see you squirm..." Nacen finally relented and uncoiled her tail from his length, letting it soften and gradually slip back into Harkwin's genital slit. "We did good."

Slowly Harkwin's full mental faculties were coming back online, and his senses expanded to take in the full surroundings, instead of being so razor-focused on nothing but sexual desire. When he took a deep breath, he could smell sex in the air--not just Nacen's scent, or his own, but a mix of their two smells, along with a musky odour from all their shared bodily fluids. "Ok, lets... We should clean up before the sleeping bags get dirty. More dirty, I suppose."

"I saw a few towels in one of the equipment pouches," Nacen said, and Harkwin rolled over and pushed to his feet.

"Hmm." He went over to the pile of equipment pouches, small crates, and miscellaneous supplies that they had brought over from the Outpost 20 tents before sealing themselves into this snow shelter. After some searching, Harkwin managed to locate a pair of wash towels made from white cloth. Carrying the towels in his jaw, he trotted back towards the sleeping bags.

Meanwhile, Nacen had rolled onto her back and was looking down between her hindlegs. "Haha, it's dripping out of me now, all wet and sticky. You did that."

The sight of Nacen lying on her back, with wings and legs spread wide, looking sexually satisfied as she grinned at him--that made Harkwin feel a mix of sensations. He felt a flash of hot arousal, but the fact that he'd just mated with her so recently then transmuted his arousal into a warm, fuzzy sense of affectionate attraction, coupled with a faint sense of pride. There was danger outside the shelter, but in here it was warm and it was the two of them together. "Did I do that? I feel like _we_both did that together."

"I guess we both did, though you might have contributed more to the... extent of the stickiness here." Lowering her head down to her underbelly, Nacen sniffed at a trail of cloudy-whitish, viscous liquid that had run down one of her hindlegs. She stuck out her tongue as if about to lick up that dripping bodily fluid, then changed her mind and glanced up at Harkwin instead. "I wonder how that actually works out. In terms of actual fluid volume, how much of all this liquid came from me, and how much of it came from you?"

Harkwin raised an eye ridge. "Fluid volume? Somehow I don't think that's the sort of science that we came all the way to the far south to discover."

"Ahahah, but having you mount me is infinitely more fun than just taking water samples from hot springs." Nacen took both of the wash towels from Harkwin, then she waved a paw in the direction of the hot spring. Tendrils of magic stretched from her outstretched limb, extending towards the pool and lifting up a small amount of the water which she pulled over to wet the towels with.

"Is the spring water clean? I thought you said these hot springs were filled with minerals?" Harkwin asked.

Still lying on her back, Nacen lazily shrugged her shoulders. "Minerals won't hurt you. In fact, I suspect that taking a bath in spring water might have some therapeutic properties for your scales. That's as long as you let the water cool down first, of course. Otherwise you'll end up boiling yourself like a delicious soup." She wrung the towels free of excess moisture, then passed one back to Harkwin.

The towel felt hot from the spring water which moistened it, and Harkwin started wiping himself down. Central Camp had proper showers which used running, heated water, but even a simple wipe down with a towel was better cleaning than nothing. Harkwin wiped every part of his body he could reach--his head, neck, wings, legs, paws, chest, back, and tail, finally ending with wiping his underbelly and genitals, which were probably the dirtiest parts.

Once done he put down the towel and glanced at Nacen, who had been cleaning herself too. But whereas Harkwin had to hold his towel and wipe his scales, Nacen was using her magic. By simply levitating the water which inundated her towel, she moved the cloth all around and wiped her scales without using her paws. Harkwin couldn't help but grin--using magic to do something was generally not any easier if that same task could simply be done manually, but sometimes it was more about style. Using his air affinity, he started shifting the air inside their small little snow shelter, creating a gentle breeze to dry off their damp scales. Even that small exertion of magic felt tiring, given how much magic he'd already used today.

When Nacen was done cleaning herself, she rolled onto her back and left her towel spread out over her underbelly. "Ok. I've had another thought. It's weird and maybe disgusting. Want to hear?" she offered, glancing at Harkwin.

Harkwin had been staring at Nacen's underbelly--the wet cloth was thin enough that he could see the faint outline of her genital slit, which somehow made it even more noticeable than if she'd just been lying there without the towel. He hurriedly snapped his gaze back upwards, but not before Nacen noticed and gave him an amused grin. "Uh... Sure. What were you thinking about?" Harkwin said.

Nacen gestured loosely right towards where Harkwin had been staring at. "So we just mated, obviously. And when you finished it was by having this... fluid shoot out from your penis right into me."

Harkwin blinked. He really had no idea where this was going. "Uh... yes...?" he replied slowly.

Nacen's snout scrunched up as she frowned. "And that fluid is alive. Sort of. It's like this... It's full of sperm cells. So right now, lots of very tiny parts of you are swimming around inside me, trying to find one of my egg cells which they can combine with."

Harkwin opened his mouth to reply, then he changed his mind and closed his mouth again. "Uhhh..."

Lying back, Nacen rested her paws on her chest and stared up at the ceiling of the snow hut, looking thoughtful. "And literally every single one of my ancestors has done that. And your ancestors too. There was always a male dragon and a female dragon, and then they hump each other with the drake putting an actual part of his body inside the drakka until he can shoot out a tiny liquid bit of himself into the female, and it combines and grows into an egg which gets laid out and eventually hatches into a tiny baby dragon, chirping and needy for attention."

"I..." Harkwin was quiet for a few moments as he mentally repeated what Nacen was saying, trying to analyse the concept. "I think... that's life? I'm not sure if it's beautiful or disgusting--maybe both."

Lying side by side on their sleeping bags, Nacen slid her tail over and entwined it with Harkwin's. "I don't know why I brought that up? I guess I just thought about it since so much of your seed was dripping out of me. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm not in heat, and we could just freeze to death in the next few hours. I don't know about you, but I don't have any siblings, so that would just be the end of my bloodline. What a shame."

"Let's hope we don't die then, " Shifting over, Harkwin lay down beside Nacen and extended his wing to cover her. "I'll keep you warm..."

Still lying on her back, Nacen grinned and grabbed his wing, covering herself like a blanket. "Thanks! Although if you freeze to death from the storm, I think I'm honour bound to freeze to death along with you, since you flew all the way out here to rescue me."

"Since I flew all the way out here to rescue you, I think the best thing you should do is _not_freeze to death. So if at all possible, I suggest we both do our best to avoid dying," Harkwin casually replied.

Nacen's smile faded, and she let out a quiet sigh. "Huhh... I don't want to die, and I don't want to be alone. Joking aside, this storm is terrible."

Harkwin adjusted his wing and hugged Nacen closer. "I don't want to be alone either. We should get some rest. It's been a really, really long day."

Nacen shook her head. "I don't know if I can sleep. Not with that storm outside."

"Is the wind too noisy?"

"It's not the wind. It's just... the knowledge that if I go to sleep in this storm, I really might never wake up again. What if... these are our last moments alive? I have so many things in life that I haven't done yet. It feels like I've barely even gotten started on all the things I want to do." Nacen's voice got even quieter. "I don't want to die."

Harkwin wasn't sure how to reassure her, but he knew he had to try. "We won't die. Snow is a good insulator, and we have the hot spring to provide warmth. It might be cold, but hopefully not deathly cold. This storm is supposed to be a fast one--it arrived faster than expected, so hopefully it'll pass quickly."

"That's true..." Nacen leaned against him, pressing herself against his side.

"There's no use worrying about it. We've tried our best. Just relax and get some rest," Harkwin suggested. He reached over for the oil lamp and turned it down to a dim, flickering glow, then he snuggled up against Nacen, with his wing still mantled over her.

Nacen took a deep breath, then she let it out slowly. "It's warm here... warm when I'm next to you." She lay down her head and closed her eyes, and after a moment Harkwin did the same. The roaring of the wind formed a flat, constant backdrop of noise, and it was comforting to be right next to Nacen. Within less than a minute, tiredness had caught up to Harkwin and he was fast asleep.

When Harkwin next woke up, his first impression was of mixed temperatures--one side of him felt warm and comfortable, but the other side felt cold. His mind was still drifting in that nebulous realm between awake and asleep, but dimly he was aware of those two diametrically opposing temperature states.

Slowing waking out of slumber, Harkwin felt the remnants of half-remembered dreams slip away and vanish completely, replaced by real memory and proper awareness. It took some exertion of will, but he managed to blink his eyes open and the world spun into focus.

He was inside a darkened snow dome constructed by his own magic, and the oil lamp was still dimmed down to a gentle flicker that threw long shadows around the snowy walls. Harkwin could hear the hot spring bubbling softly, and a dull rumble came from outside the dome as the winds of the storm buffeted the shelter.

Harkwin's right side was warm and comfortable, which turned out to be because there was a female dragon with scales of sandy beige snuggled against that side. Nacen had her wing opened up and wrapped around his back, holding him against her chest. They'd fallen asleep with him holding her, but at some point in the night this had become reversed. Nacen's wing wasn't fully open and so it didn't cover him entirely--Harkwin's left side was exposed to the air, and there he felt a deep chill which stood in sharp contrast to the warmth he got from the sleeping bag and from Nacen.

Ever so slowly Harkwin glanced over to see if Nacen was awake, but her eyes appeared to be closed. In the dim fiery light cast by the oil lamp, Nacen's scales looked darker than her usual beige, almost a tan brown colour. Harkwin's gaze slid across her body, taking in all the neatly tessellated scales that covered her--from the miniscule scales that neatly covered her muzzle, to the huge scale plates on her wings that acted movable flight control surfaces.

Beneath the dull rumble of the storm and the steady bubbling of the hot spring, Harkwin could barely hear the slow, quiet sound of Nacen's breathing. Her scales were smooth and warm against his, moving slight in time with every breath. It was... pleasant and calming to be lying next to her. But since he was already awake, Harkwin decided that he wanted to check on the walls of the snow shelter to make sure that the steam from the hot spring wasn't melting them.

Moving with great slowness, Harkwin carefully used his forepaw to lift Nacen's wing away from his back, and then he shifted his tail where it was partially entwined with hers. As he slowly disentangled himself from Nacen, he made sure to keep things quiet and gentle so as not to wake her up. This careful process took about half a minute, and then Harkwin rolled back onto the far side of his own sleeping bag.

Lying on his own, he could already feel that the air temperature was much lower than it had been before. The sleeping bags were made of several layers, with a thick padding to sleep on and also a thinner blanket cover to serve as insulating layer. Nacen was lying closer to the hot spring, so hopefully she wasn't cold, but Harkwin carefully covered her up with her sleeping bag's blanket layer just in case.

Harkwin wasn't quite sure how long he'd been asleep, but it must have been hours and the full force of the storm had clearly arrived. With the howling of the winds from outside, he hoped that their makeshift ice hut would hold up. Unfurling a wing, he extended a wingtip towards the walls.

At first contact, Harkwin winced silently and snapped his limb back. The wall of whitish ice crystals was more than just solid--it was frozen and deeply cold. Pushing to his feet, Harkwin took a few silent steps over to the wall and he cautiously tapped a forepaw against it just to check again.

On a normal day, Harkwin's frost affinity meant that the temperature of snow or ice wasn't enough to bother him--he could still feel the cold, but walking in snow wouldn't hurt his paws as it might for a dragon without frost affinity, as his magic kept the heat from transferring out of his body. However, this was storm cold. The ice of the wall seemed to bite at him, leeching heat away from his exposed paw pads in an instant. Harkwin lifted his paw away and shook it to get some warmth back into his limb. There was no doubt about it now--the storm had arrived, and the temperatures outside were cold beyond cold.

Idly, Harkwin felt tempted to lick the ice wall with his tongue just to see what would happen. Would his tongue get stuck?

"Is the wall cold?"

Glancing back over his shoulder, Harkwin discovered that Nacen was awake as well. The female dragon was sitting up and staring at him, with that sleeping bag's blanket draped over her shoulders like a cloak. Her eyes were wide open and alert, albeit dark in the dim light.

"Oh. Sorry, did I wake you up?" Harkwin said.

Nacen casually shrugged, making her wings shift about on her back. "No problem. I'm glad to be awake and not dead. Is it... is the cold getting in?"

Harkwin nodded. "The walls here are too cold to touch." Using his paw, he tapped at the rocky ground and found that it was increasingly cold closer to the wall, even if it didn't conduct heat as well and wasn't as immediately painful to touch. "So the walls aren't going to melt from the hot spring, but I don't know how much colder it's going to get."

"Hmm. I wish I'd thought to bring some of my scientific instruments in here. I could plot the air temperature over time and see if it stabilizes, or continues to drop until we freeze." Still with the blanket draped over her shoulders, Nacen reached over and grabbed her flask of tea. She also took out a pocket watch from her flight harness, which was right beside her sleeping bag as well. "It's... early-morning. We slept through most of the night without dying, so that's a success."

"We still have a few more days to go. Let's hope it doesn't get any worse." Walking back towards Nacen, Harkwin tugged the sleeping bags so they were slightly closer to the bubbling hot spring. Then he lay down on the bag again, and Nacen shifted so that the two of them could huddle together under the blankets.

Suddenly the muffled roar of the storm seemed to change pitch, and a dull, intermittent thumping_sound came from around the snow shelter. Both Nacen and Harkwin tensed up. "_Whump! Thump! Thump! Blump! Thump!"

"What's that noise?" Harkwin asked. The two dragons glanced around, listening to the repeated thumps that seemed to come from all directions. "That thumping in the snow--it sounds... almost like animals...?" Harkwin said confusedly.

Nacen clutched him a bit closer. "That's impossible."

"It sounds like hooves. A herd of hooved animals stomping around on the snow," Harkwin muttered.

"That's impossible," Nacen repeated, a bit quieter than before.

"Yeah, I know. Nothing is supposed to live in the far south."

"Mmh, well that's not entirely true," Nacen murmured, her voice becoming more matter-of-fact as she recalled some of her knowledge. "There are no animals living in this polar environment (other than us); however there are a few species of lichen which grow on the rocks near the hot springs. But lichen is boring."

"And so... what... is... that... noise? That isn't lichen," Harkwin whispered, keeping his voice quiet as they both just listened to the thumping sounds.

After a moment, Nacen's crest fin perked up. "Oh, I know. It's hail! That's hail smacking against the outside of our shelter."

Harkwin nodded, and he relaxed slightly as this explanation clicked in his mind. "Right. Of course. Good thing we have a shelter."

"Sounds like _big_chunks of ice," Nacen agreed. "The tents back at the outpost are probably being shredded."

As the dull thumping continued, the two young dragons huddled together under the blankets, listening to the sound of hail continuing to fall. But the snow hut's walls were frozen fully solid, and they held up to the sustained assault.

Nacen yawned lazily, and she rested her chin against Harkwin's shoulder. "Being in this snow shelter reminds me of when I used to build snow castles as a hatchling."

Harkwin didn't share this life experience. "Snow? You didn't live in the city growing up?"

"I did! Storytime. Let's see now... snow castles..." Nacen shifted into an even more comfortable position, snuggled up against Harkwin. She opened up her flask and took a slow sip, before clearing her throat. "Ahem. Back in the city, my clan has residential territory in sector forty-seven, so I grew up in an apartment there with my parents and other clanmates. Standard stuff."

Harkwin nodded. He was well familiar with the City of Wings, having lived there all his life. "Yeah?"

"My old childhood home was near the sector border, and so one winter season as a young hatchling, I discovered that the storm shields do not perfectly encapsulate the entire city. Turns out that there was a small gap right above one alleyway on the sector border, where the edges of two adjacent shield zones didn't quite overlap, so that allowed rain and snow to get into the city. Just imagine that--one tiny alleyway in the whole city, where the snow managed to sneak in past those storm shields."

Nacen smiled as she recalled the memory, and she gestured with her paws. "I used to have so much fun there. It would be me and a few other young clanmates, maybe a couple of friends from my school--every time there was a storm and the city raised the shields, we would all head to that alleyway and play in the snow."

"That sounds fun," Harkwin said.

"It was! It was real fun. We'd try to throw snow at each other, or we would make shapes in the snow, or build castles and forts." Nacen's nostalgic expression faded slightly. "I did that less as I started to grow older. I was busy with flight school, with the training hunts, with the advanced topics in normal school, with sports and clubs, and all that other stuff. Then one day when I was an older fledgling, my flight school class was cancelled because of a winter storm, and I just decided to head back to that old alleyway to see the snow again. I always remembered that place as being this tiny little hidden alleyway between two old buildings, filled with winter white drifting down from above..." Now Nacen's crest fin drooped flat. "But it turned out that at some point over the years, the storm shields had been recalibrated to fully cover that spot--no more snow getting into the city. The alleyway was dry and empty, and I could see the snow building up on the force shields up above in the sky."

Harkwin chuckled, but he smiled sympathetically. Even though they'd both only just woken up, it felt very cosy to just lie down side by side and chat. "Haha. The magic of childhood gets wiped away by actual magic."

Nacen's crest fin perked up. "Exactly! I was so sad! I used to want to become a weather worker when I grew up, but that made me so angry with them for fixing the storm shields!"

"Those bothersome weather workers," Harkwin agreed.

Nacen bared her teeth in a cute, half-growl. "Grr. That ruined my day. I mean, they were doing their job and repairing some miscalibrated equipment, but it still made so unhappy. That very same day after the storm blew over, I flew out of the city and went to a field in the countryside just to fill up a bucket with snow. Then I went back to that alleyway and threw snowballs at the building walls until it was dark. Each snowball went thump against the wall, just like the hail that's smacking our shelter now."

Harkwin laughed again. "Hah. That sounds great. I wish I could have seen that alleyway as you describe it--back when it still filled with snow."

Nacen glanced away. "When this whole expedition is over and we're back in the city, I could take you to go see the place. It... it wouldn't be the same without the snow, though. That part is never coming back. I dream about that place, sometimes... I dream that I'm just a young hatchling again, playing around in the snow with my friends. No stress, no worries, no concerns at all."

Harkwin nodded understandingly. "It was a simpler time, to just be a child."

Nacen snorted and shook her head. "Pfft. It's a lie of a dream. I don't think I was ever carefree, even which I was a hatchling. I was always worrying about getting my schoolwork done, or about when I was going to learn how to fly, or about whether my friends really liked me or were just pretending. I feel like I can be way more relaxed now that I actually... sort of understand how the world works and know my place in it."

"Your place in the world? And... what exactly is your place in the world?" Harkwin prompted.

"My place is right here, snuggled up under a blanket and being warm." Leaning over, Nacen planted a small but affectionate lick on the side Harkwin's snout. "And your place is right next to me, as we both try to survive this storm."

"Mmh. That's nice." Harkwin enjoyed the simple companionship for a moment, then he prompted Nacen again. "Did you say you wanted to be a weather worker, back when you were a hatchling?"

Nacen nodded, and she seemed happy to keep sharing about herself. "Oh, yes. Weather working is serious business! The weather workers on this expedition are just... what they do doesn't even count as true weather working. It's just... forecasting. Back in the city, weather workers actually control the weather and manipulate the clouds--now that's fascinating work."

"And you wanted to do that sort of thing?"

"Sure. Messing with the weather is cool." Nacen let out a soft sigh. "Huuh. I always wanted to have electric magic so I could fly about in storms and redirect lightning bolts to recharge the city's energy core. But then I eventually learned that that isn't actually how it works at all."

Harkwin frowned slightly. "Wait, but I thought that the city_does_ use lightning to recharge its power?"

"Oh yes, but there isn't any flying about in thunderstorms to redirect lightning bolts. They are these big... crystal... beam... things that link up with the storm shields," Nacen replied, gesturing with a paw. "And then I got water magic instead of electric magic, so I couldn't fly about in a thunderstorm anyway. What a shame." She let out a soft sigh. "Oh well. But what about you? What did you always dream about becoming when you were younger?"

Harkwin shrugged. "I wanted to have air magic and fly fast, so I always dreamed about being a scout. Then I got air magic, and I learned how to fly fast, and I became a scout. That worked out nicely."

Nacen laughed. "Haha, lucky you!"

"Yep. Although... let's just hope that luck continues and we don't freeze to death in this storm." Harkwin leaned his head against Nacen's shoulder. "That would be a shame, wouldn't it?"

Nacen grit her teeth, but she just chuckled. "Hah! No, we'll make it through. We have to! I've got way too many things to do with my life still. I don't... I don't have time to die."

"Let's not die," Harkwin agreed, though they both knew all this was just being hopeful. There was nothing they could do to control the weather, and nature itself would decide if the storm passed fast or slow.

All around them, the storm raged on.

Harkwin jerked awake. For a few moments he couldn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten here--all he knew was the harsh, freezing cold which was everywhere. Hiding until the blanket, curled up into a ball, he could feel that cold still digging into him, stealing away his body warmth.

Being so cold was an incomparable experience. Harkwin felt all his muscles spasm and shiver uncontrollably in an automatic effort to warm him up, but even that did little against the all permeating cold. Warmth and comfort felt like a distant, forgotten memory which he might never know again.

Glancing around, Harkwin realized that there was another dragon curled up beside him--Nacen. Both of them were huddling against each other under the blanket, but that seemed to do nothing against all the cold. And yet the sight of her managed to jog Harkwin's memory, lifting him slightly out of his hypothermic confusion.

It was the two of them, sheltering in a snow hut they'd built, hoping to somehow make it through the worst that the far polar south could throw at them. How long had they been in the storm? Harkwin wasn't even sure. Time seemed to have lost all meaning, and the cold seemed eternal. Slowly memories filtered back into place.

First there had been mad desperation as they'd built the snow shelter over the hot spring, working out in the cold as the storm gradually arrived. But then the shelter had been complete, and everything had seemed better--the inside was warm and steamy from the hot spring, and there had been time to enjoy food, drinks, and even each other's company.

More memories clicked into place as Harkwin tried to recall what had happened. For the first day or so, the snow shelter had been warm or even comfortable. He and Nacen had passed the time with conversation, talking about life, about themselves, each other, or about anything else that came to mind.

Harkwin's gaze shifted to a sheaf of documents that was lying dropped on the rocky floor, a short distance away--a collection of research papers, record logs, even old messages between Central Camp and Outpost 20--those various documents had been in one of the crates, amongst the supplies and equipment they'd hurriedly dragged over from the outpost. Left with not much to do inside the shelter, Nacen had taken to simply reading the paperwork again, simplifying and explaining things aloud to Harkwin as she did so. Harkwin now knew more about geothermal activity and hot springs that he ever had before, just from listening to her talk.

Harkwin shuddered at the thought of what it would have been like if he'd been all alone here, trapped for days without anyone to interact with. But now at least they had each other. They'd done so much talking--discussing everything from their personal viewpoints, to the workings of the expedition, to even about what they planned to do what they when they finally returned to the City of Wings--if they returned.

How long had they been trapped inside this shelter? Time seemed meaningless. They had no view of the outside world and no visual cue for what time of day it even was. There was nothing to do but to eat, sleep, talk, and mate. And they'd done a lot of all of those activities--but especially that last one. Harkwin glanced at Nacen, watching her as she slept, curled up under the blanket.

In the past few days they'd exhausted so many different sex acts just as a means to pass the time and avoid boredom. Harkwin felt like he was almost as familiar with Nacen's body as he was with his own, and his genital slit felt faintly sore from how well used it had been. They'd done mating with him on top of her, with her belly down; or belly up; also mating with him lying down, and with her straddling atop of him; mating with both of them lying on their sides, facing the same direction; or both facing each other; or not even mating properly but using their paws to pleasure each other; or using their mouths; or even tails. The two young dragons had even tried both just playing with themselves, lying on separate sleeping bags but watching each other touch their own bodies. And kissing--so much time spent kissing, figuring out how to do it properly.

Harkwin blinked. Had he imagined all that? No, definitely not. His imagination wasn't anywhere near that capable, even if sometimes it felt like he couldn't tell the difference between dreaming and being awake. Even in his dreams he was always in this snow shelter, trapped by a storm and unable to leave.

But as the hours and days had passed, the storm continued unrelenting, and slowly the cold had crept in. Inside the snow shelter there was a circle of warmth spreading out from the hot spring, but that circle had gradually shrunk as the temperature dropped. Eventually they'd had to put their sleeping bags right beside the pool of boiling water just to stay warm, and now the time had come when even that wasn't enough. The oil lamp and the kettle were still running, continuously burning oil to produce what meagre warmth they could, but that wasn't enough either.

Harkwin yawned and closed his eyes for a moment, but he wasn't sure how long that moment lasted. Had it just been a few seconds, or had he drifted off to sleep for another few hours? The cold seemed to have affected the passage of time, or at least his _perception_of the passage of time. His pocket watch was inside his flight harness, but that was located away from the hot spring, closer to the wall of the snow shelter along with all the rest of their supply and equipment pile. Knowing the time wasn't worth leaving the blankets and the hot spring--it was too cold to bother.

It must have been a few hours at least, for the oil lamp was now starting to dim as its fuel supply ran dry. Yet the cold seemed worse than ever, and he didn't even dare to run over to the supply pile to drag over that small metal barrel of oil.

How many days had they been inside this shelter? It must have been at least three. Perhaps four? Or perhaps his sense of time was completely skewed. How long more could the storm last, with the cold and the wind that was slowly killing them?

Harkwin huddled against Nacen, and she briefly blinked her eyes open. "It's... it's... co--cold..." she whispered, her teeth chattering.

Harkwin nodded. "Brrr. The storm will... it will pass soon. It has to be soon..." he replied, but this was nothing more than hope. If he was wrong, and the storm didn't pass soon, then neither of them would be alive to know it. They were at the limits of their ability--their natural frost magic tried to hold onto body heat, but the environment was too cold and too hostile.

He closed his eyes again, and once more time seemed to distort.

When Harkwin next woke up, the oil lamp had almost died out completely, and the inside of the snow shelter was barely lit at all. Yet the winds of the storm were still raging, roaring against the outside of the shelter and with wind chill snatching away any heat.

Turning his head, Harkwin saw that the hot spring had gone still. Instead of a gently bubbling surface, whirls of ice crystals had spread across the water, freezing in place in beautifully bleak fractal patterns. Their source of warmth had stopped, frozen over by the storm. "Nacen..." Harkwin tried to say, but his voice was barely a croak.

The hot spring had frozen over, but surely there was still warm water below the surface. Geothermal activity powered a hot spring--that same raw power that fuelled volcanoes and quakes, so surely there must be hot water somewhere below. If Nacen was awake, perhaps she could use her water magic. Perhaps she could have controlled the water deep below the surface to have it come bubbling up again, bringing some semblance of warmth.

"Nacen. Wake up." Harkwin nudged the drakka beside him, but she didn't respond and her body felt too cold. In the dim light, Harkwin could see his own breath as he exhaled, creating a tiny cloud of condensed vapour. Small ice crystals were forming around his nostrils; and not just there, but all over. Ice was forming everywhere, on everything. He nudged Nacen again, to no avail.

"Nacen? Please! Wake up, please..." Harkwin tried one last time to rouse Nacen, but no matter how he shook her, she didn't respond. Without the warmth from the hot spring, it was too cold to be awake--too cold to live, even. Harkwin pushed himself to his feet, but his muscles were shivering continuously and his limbs all felt stiff and numb. Taking a few hesitant steps, he left the relative warmth of the sleeping bags and the blankets as he walked onto the frozen hot spring pool. Each step was stingingly painful as the cold jabbed at his paw pads, and Harkwin couldn't seem to control the muscles which should have let his claws extend out from his paws.

The ice didn't crack under his weight, not even after he reared up on his hindlegs to slam down his forepaws. Not seeing any alternative, he unfurled a wing and swung it down, desperately trying to break the surface of the ice. His wing smacked against the frozen water and Harkwin let out a pained cry at the impact, but the ice didn't even crack.

Stumbling back, he collapsed down on the sleeping bag, clutching his wing where a thin scratch marked the leading flight edge, gently oozing thick, crimson blood. He wanted to stand up and try again to break the ice, but he didn't have the energy to rise. Everything seemed to be fading, going dark--perhaps the oil lamp was running out of fuel entirely, or perhaps he was drifting away.

It was hard to breath, and harder to think. Harkwin closed his eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to be warm, and safe, and not alone.

He dreamed of seeing the sky, one last time--not in a sky obscured by ominous grey storm clouds, but instead a proper blue sky half filled with puffy clouds of white, lit up by rays of warm, welcoming sunshine. Nacen was right beside him in this vision, looking happy and healthy, playfully swooping against him and making him dodge. As they spread their wings, Harkwin imagined them soaring through the world, free to go wherever they wished.

He couldn't feel the cold anymore. He was free.

Everything was dark and formless. It was impossible to tell between reality, memory, and hallucination. Voices echoed through the world, but Harkwin tried his best to ignore the madness--the voices whispered to him, digging into his mind and babbling in their incoherent loops. Was this what it was like to be a hatchling before the hatch? Trapped in an egg, unable to see or move; distantly able to hear voices from the outside, but unable to understand anything?

Or perhaps not. Eggs were supposed to be kept warm and safe and treasured, but everything was so cold. It was so cold that he couldn't even feel anything, not even the cold itself. Harkwin was so numb and he couldn't muster the energy to move, to talk, or to even think properly.

Suddenly a loud _thump_sounded out. Harkwin was too tired and cold to even be surprised. Was he in an egg, hatching out to being his life in the world again? No, no, not that. It was... the thumping sound was... the white, round things that came from the sky. Sky ice. Sky ice was hitting the shelter again. He couldn't even remember what the word was called. It took him a few more seconds of pondering before he could recall it.

Hail. It was hailing again. He wanted to talk to Nacen and tell her that it was hailing again, but it was so dark that he couldn't see her. Was she still lying next to him? Had he imagined her? Had he imagined everything?

The hail seemed to sound different than before. Instead of regular, staccato beats of hail lumps raining down around the shelter, the sounds seemed intermittent, and to be coming from one specific direction. "Crackk!" Then suddenly there was a loud cracking, crunching sound and a flare of light appeared out of nowhere. Harkwin turned his head towards the light, blinking at the strange sight.

The brilliant flash disappeared in an instant, but now everything seemed faintly brighter than before. A thin sliver of illumination was visible from one side, as a vertical crack of light appeared out of nowhere. For a moment Harkwin wondered if he was dreaming, but then the flare of light appeared again.

Faint tendrils of orange flame licked in through the crack, rapidly making the crack expand as the wall of the snow shelter melted. Even when the flame briefly stopped, the light was brighter now as sunlight streamed in. The fire came back, and this time it was clear what it was--firebreath. The smoky, sharp odour of concentrated flame magic seemed to fill the snow shelter.

Then the flame stopped once more, and claws appeared in the gap as someone tore open the shelter from the outside, widening the crack even further. "It's hollow!" came a shout, this time far clearer and perfectly understandable.

There was a crunching _snap_as a large piece of the icy wall broke free, and then a dragon stuck their head into the shelter. Harkwin wanted to yell in joy, or scream madly, or even move, but he was too weak to react. He couldn't even lift his head anymore. The dragon glanced around in the darkness, then their gaze locked on Harkwin. "Here! They're over here! At least one of them is still alive!" exclaimed the dragon.

More firebreath, more cracking, more shouting and yelling. All around there seemed to be so much motion and noise and light as expedition dragons tore open the shelter, letting light and fresh air pour inside. Harkwin felt his eyes watering from the sudden brightness, and he squinted.

"Nullfire-blasted, twice-cursed sky spirits be blessed, you're still alive!" muttered a familiar voice. Harkwin blinked his eyes open to see Legrane--the scout section leader--was one of the dragons helping to rip open the snow shelter. "Careful! Don't pull away too much of the wall or the roof might collapse!" Legrane ordered to the other dragons. "Let the medics in first! Stand aside!"

Harkwin tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. There were two medics who leapt into the snow shelter quickly, as soon as there was even a big enough hole for them to slip in--one attended to Nacen, while the other went right to Harkwin.

"Alright, we have you. You're going to be alright," said the medic. "Harkwin--that's your name, right? Can you talk? No? Ok. Just relax. You're going to be alright."

The medics acted quickly. The lightweight blanket covers which came with the sleeping bags were tossed aside, replaced by shiny, highly-reflective emergency blankets that were even more insulating. Water packs filled with hot water were tucked under Harkwin's fore and hindlegs, right in the armpits and groin so they could warm him up. The heat was so sudden that it felt almost painfully hot, but Harkwin wanted to cry tears of relief.

From one of the numerous pouches of her flight harness, the medic took out a large whitish chunk of crystal about the size of a clenched paw. She then used a small strap to hold that crystal against the back of Harkwin's neck--it was a healing crystal, filled with a special type of magic that could target wounds and repair injuries.

Medics were dragons who were fully trained in medicine and they were therefore considered doctors, but they weren't healers. Healers were dragons who specifically could use healing magic, but that type of affinity never came as dual affinity. This meant that there were no healers with frost magic to go on the polar expedition, so instead special crystals charged with healing magic were used. It was a paltry, unfocused measure compared to the targeted expertise of a real healer, but it was still better than not using healing magic at all.

Even as relieving warmth finally started permeating through his body, Harkwin could see tiny sparks of magic pouring out from the healing crystal, spreading out to sink into spots where frostbite had damaged his scales and skin. The magic spread out and extended over the leading edge of his wing, where he'd scratched himself from trying to keep the hot spring from freezing over.

The medic then used something wet to wipe Harkwin's wing base, and then she lifted up one of the scales there and smoothly jabbed a needle into one of his veins. This caused a prick of pain, but the discomfort faded away as sparks of healing magic continued to wash over his body. The needle was connected to a long thin tube, the other side of which was attached to a bag of clear liquid that the medic held up using her tail. Harkwin could feel the fluid flowing through the needle and into his bloodstream, directly spreading liquid warmth into his body. He tried again to speak, but his voice came out as a cough. "Ahkk..."

"Careful. Careful. You're safe now. Don't worry," the medic reassured him. Holding Harkwin's head, she carefully placed a bottle against his jaws and let him drink slowly--the warm water tasted faintly sweet and salty, but it was like liquid relief wetting his mouth and soothing his throat. "Don't rush or you'll choke. Just take your time. It's alright."

"Mmh." Harkwin drank until the medic lifted away the bottle, then he licked away a few droplets of water which had dribbled down his chin. Her voice still sounded so weak, but at least he could speak now. "Nacen. Is she...?"

The medic was busy wrapping a padded cuff around Harkwin's foreleg, presumably to check his blood pressure. She didn't even turn to check with the other medic before replying. "She'll be fine. Don't worry about her. You're safe. Do you have any injuries? Can you tell me if anything hurts, Harkwin? I see your wing is scratched. Can you tell me how that happened?"

Harkwin wanted to press the question further, but he was just too tired. He could see the other medic doing something with Nacen, so presumably she was still alive--a medic wouldn't try to treat a dead, frozen dragon, surely? Harkwin put down his head and closed his eyes, despite the medic continuing to ask him questions.

The next thing that got the young scout awake was when several dragons grabbed him by his wings and gently lifted up, then carefully placed him back down on a stretcher. His wings were then furled up and tied down to the stretcher, along with his paws, and even his tail so it wouldn't dangle. That reflective insulating blanket was wrapped all around him again, just to keep him warm. "We're going to get you back to the infirmary at Central Camp. Don't you worry," said the medic, even as other dragons began attaching ropes to the stretcher, so it could be carried between them from their flight harnesses. Four dragons to one stretcher, sharing the weight in flight.

Harkwin vaguely recognized some of the other dragons who were going to be carrying him back. They were his fellow scouts, and his colleagues nodded to him as they saw him make eye contact. "I always knew you'd make it through the storm," said Zhalin, one of the scouts. Her tone was so casual that it was almost as if they were just having a friendly chat after any regular day, instead of in the midst of a rescue and emergency medical evacuation. "We had a bet, and I was one of the few who said that you'd somehow made it even if you were stuck at Outpost 20."

Harkwin let out a single tired, amused chuckle. "Hah. You were... betting whether we lived or died?"

"Oh, no. That would have been tasteless, and Legrane would never have allowed that. He was almost chewing on his scales with worry after you didn't come back that first evening... No, we couldn't bet that you would die, so we made bets about how you would live through the storm. Drend and Garilasor were betting that you'd managed to make it to Outpost 8, while Crattevin and a few others bet that you'd somehow flown all the way to Outpost 16, you fast, crazy scout you. My guess was that you'd stayed at Outpost 20, but somehow insulated a tent to survive. Constructing a snow dome as shelter? No one thought of that one."

Harkwin tried to shake his head. "It wasn't me. Wasn't my idea. It was hers..." he said, glancing over to Nacen, who the medics were now strapping into an adjacent stretcher. Nacen was wrapped in a a shiny insulating blanket as well, being prepared for a flight just like he was.

As Harkwin was looking over, he saw Nacen's eyes flutter open for a moment, and that sight made a huge surge of relief flood through him--she was alive! Nacen blinked her eyes open just long enough to make brief eye contact with him, and they shared that moment of mutual relief. There was a bond between them, forged in an icy hell and under the threat of death, faced together and survived together.

Harkwin wanted to speak with her, but his voice was too weak for a yell. Silently he mouthed the words, "we made it". Nacen's crest fin barely twitched, but her head shifted in the tiniest of acknowledging nods.

They'd made it. They'd both made it through the storm.

"Alright, all ready! Keep a close formation, and let's have things coordinated and stable," Legrane ordered. "Let's get our people back to base."

Harkwin could feel the air moving around him as the other scouts began channelling their air affinities, stabilizing the winds for takeoff. His own magic felt quiet and faint, so all he could do was lie still as the other dragons ran forward, pulling the stretcher along the ice until they took to the air, carrying him aloft in a sudden jerk. A grid of ropes connected the dragons by their flight harnesses, balancing the weight as they lifted Harkwin upwards. A short distance away he could see another team carrying Nacen in her own stretcher, flying adjacent in their own formation.

The sun was as bright as it ever got in the far south, but the sky was now clear and blue once more, with little trace of the storm or the deadly cold that had come with it. Glancing down, Harkwin spared one last look around at the summit crater. The snowy landscape had been reshaped by the blizzard--there were areas where snow and ice had built up thick, but there were also areas where the concentrated winds had blasted away existing layers of snow, exposing grey rock which would eventually be covered by further, gentler snowfall.

The hot springs looked different; ice covered many of those pools of mineral-filled water, but already some of the larger springs were once again bubbling and pouring up clouds of vapour, with their ice melting away back to the rim of the spring. With the storm gone, the temperature had increased back to those frosty but relatively warm temperatures--the ice topping the hot springs would soon melt and the water would once again come forth.

The partially broken down remnants of their snow shelter were visible, along with that one hot spring, the sleeping bags, and the messy pile of supplies and equipment that had kept them alive. Eventually the close presence of the hot spring would fully melt the snow shelter, leaving no trace at all of the makeshift structure which had saved their lives.

And over at Outpost 20 itself, there was no sign of the orange tents which had once been there. A thick layer of snow covered the ground, but there were paw prints and dig marks in the snow there. Harkwin guessed that the rescue team had first tried to dig or melt their way through the snow to uncover the tents, only to discover that the tents and the whole outpost had been torn apart by the wind and the hail. Then they'd seen the snow shelter and refocused their efforts there, and now the rescue was done.

Closing his eyes, Harkwin rested his head against the stretcher, feeling the gentle swaying of the wind as he was carried back home.

They'd made it. They'd both made it through the storm.

Epilogue

The infirmary of Central Camp was one of the few areas that was continuously kept at a truly warm temperature. Some areas like the storerooms were left completely unheated, but even for most of the other interior areas there were heated, the temperature was held at slightly above freezing point. Given that every expedition dragon had frost affinity, these intermediate temperatures were adequately comfortable for daily operation in most of these areas. Even the living quarters were left at just above freezing, with the beds kept warm with blankets and a few additional heaters placed around the rooms.

The infirmary was one of the exceptions. For the sake of maintaining health, the temperature was high enough that even a dragon without any frost magic could be comfortable, despite the deep cold of the far south. Ten beds filled the infirmary in two rows, and on one of these beds was a yellow-beige scaled dragon, resting comfortably and curled up into a ball.

The room was so delightfully warm that Nacen almost didn't ever want to leave. At some point, boredom and responsibility would surely drive her to return back to her researcher work; but after having nearly frozen to death, she felt like she'd earned at least a few days spent lazing about on a warm bed, imitating a baked potato as she wrapped herself up in cosy blankets.

As Nacen roused from her latest nap, she yawned lazily and stretched. Raising her head, the first thing she glanced at was the adjacent bed... which had several messy blankets, but was empty. Nacen raised an eye ridge--where had Harkwin gone?

Unfortunately, her wakeup didn't go unnoticed, and the medic on duty in the infirmary trotted over and sat down next to the bed. "Good evening, Nacen. It's time for your evening dose of medicine," she said.

Nacen squinted suspiciously at the medic, and she cleared her throat. "Ahk. Already?"

"Indeed. It's about an hour before dinner time, so we're right on schedule for your evening test and dose." Despite being a fully trained doctor, the medic didn't look that much older than Nacen. Then again, Nacen supposed, it would make sense that it was a younger doctor who would be more inclined to leave the City of Wing's medical centre and join a risky pioneering expedition. "Ready for your affinity response test?" asked the medic.

Nacen didn't like the test. She pretended to pout. "Do I have to do the test? What if I just _say_that I'm feeling better?"

A faint grin crossed the medic's snout, and she flipped open one of the pouches on her flight harness. "You still need to be tested. Otherwise I'll have to assume that you aren't recovering properly, and give you a bigger dose of medicine."

Much as Nacen disliked the test, she disliked the taste of the medicine even more. The medicine was supposedly very important, but it came in a viscous, unpleasant green liquid which was so bitter that Nacen would genuinely have believed it if the medic had said they were just having her drink an industrial antifreeze. "Is there no variant of that medicine that doesn't taste awful?"

"There's an injectable form if you'd prefer it that way."

"No that's even worse. Needles are--aahkk... ahkk!" Nacen's speech was interrupted by a bout of coughing, which all but proved that she wasn't yet fully recovered. She covered her mouth with a wing, but her phlegmy coughing continued for a few more seconds as throat seized painfully and her diagram spasmed. When Nacen finally recovered, she reluctantly unwrapped herself from all her blankets and held a forelimb out towards the medic. "Ahk. Ahem. Fine, fine. Do what you must..."

"So just the usual then. I'll run the test first." Taking Nacen's outstretched foreleg, the medic strapped on a small device which looked somewhat like an interlocking metal bracelet. "As usual, just try to keep still for as long as you can."

Nacen stared at the bracelet as it sat around her wrist. The surface of the device felt cool to the touch, but quickly it started to get colder and colder. As they were waiting, the medic put a stethoscope into one ear and slid the other end over Nacen's chest, listening to her breathing.

Nacen tried to keep still for as long as she could. The cold sensation from the bracelet was barely noticeable at first, then it became discomforting, then painfully sharp, then unbearable. "Ouch. That's... ow! Ok, stop!" She paused to cough. "Ahk, ahkm. Take it off."

The medic smoothly unstrapped the bracelet and checked it. "Hmm. Not a good reading... Your frost magic still isn't recovered yet."

Using her other paw, Nacen rubbed at her wrist were the bracelet had been touching. It wasn't just an imaginary sensation--her scales there were physically, noticeably colder than before, though not actually cold enough to be damaged. The test was quite simple--the bracelet had been charged with frost magic and it was meant to measure a dragon's tolerance to cold temperatures. Frost affinity dragons were supposed to have much better resistance to cold, meaning they could wear it for longer compared to dragons without the affinity. However, disease, acute overuse of magic, or certain medical conditions could temporarily restrict a dragon's ability to use their own magic, which meant that (as a result of nearly dying of hypothermia) Nacen wasn't as cold-resistant as she usually ought to be.

The solution to this was straightforward--bedrest, time, and horrid-tasting medicine. Nacen watched with resigned trepidation as the medic took a tiny glass and filled it with tincture from a glass bottle, right up to the designated line. Without saying anything, Nacen took the medicine-filled glass and gulped down all the liquid as fast as she could. The bitter taste made her wince and stick out her tongue, but the tincture immediately soothed her throat and made her insides feel slightly warmer.

"Well done!" declared that medic cheerfully. She sealed the medicine bottle, and then passed over a water packet for Nacen to drink from and to wash the taste of the medicine off her tongue. As Nacen was gulping down the water thirstily, the medic smoothly returned her stethoscope and bracelet back to her flight harness. "You should be feeling better soon. Your lungs sound much healthier, even if you're still having a cough. We should also start to see your frost magic recover again soon."

Nacen nodded. She used a hindpaw to scratch at an itch on her left side, where there was a bandage to cover up a spot of frostbitten scales. "So... nothing permanent from the storm, right?"

The medic shook her head and gave a kind, friendly smile. "No permanent damage. You need to keep taking medicine and resting so that your cough doesn't get worse again, but overall I'd say you should make a full recovery! You're lucky that the storm was over quick and the rescue team found you fast. A few more hours and you might have had the tip of your tail frozen off... or your paws amputated... or your wing membranes trimmed from frostbite... or worse."

"It could have been worse," Nacen agreed.

"Indeed." Reaching into a different pouch on her flight harness, the medic took out a sheet of paper. "Also, your blood test results are done. Most things appear to be within normal range. There is less magical trace than usual, but that's expected after your ordeal and it should return to standard soon. There's no sign of systemic infection, though immune response is slightly dampened. I make no promises, but I might be able to discharge you from the infirmary in one or two days; dependant on your cough getting better, and on your magic coming back at least partially."

"That's would be good," Nacen said.

"Indeed." The medic's gaze quickly swept down the sheet of paper, reading the numerous small numbers and lines of text. "Hmm. How curious. Some of your hormone levels are... unusual."

"Oh?" Nacen prompted.

"It's probably nothing." The medic frowned, but she shook her head. "If you do get discharged, I'll still have you on light duties for a while. And I'll have your posting locked to Central Camp for at least a week or two; just in case you need more treatment, or more tests of any sort."

"Sounds good. I'm in no rush to head back out to Outpost 20. No rush at all!" Nacen agreed. She gestured towards the adjacent bed--there were ten beds in the infirmary, but right now it was only her and the medic here. "Speaking of that--where'd Harkwin go? Did you discharge him already?"

The medic shook her head. "He's not discharged either, but he was fidgeting and bored so I let him out of the infirmary to take a walk around. That was about half an hour ago; you were fast asleep."

"Harkwin's magic is good enough for him to walk about outside?" Nacen asked, surprised.

"He's more recovered than you, but not fully. I let him go over to one of the greenhouses--it's warm there, and it's just over in the adjacent building," explained the medic.

Nacen sat up, and she pushed off her blankets. After having spent her last few days confined to the infirmary, some freedom to move about sounded enticing. "Can I go for a walk?"

"Sure. Do you need me to follow you?"

"No, no, that's not necessary! I'm not going to just collapse at any moment," Nacen assured her.

"Fair enough." The medic pointed out the doorway. "The greenhouse is down that tunnel, just at the first staircase heading upstairs. Don't rush. And if you feel short of breath or tired, call for help. There ought to be greenery workers in the greenhouse tending to the plants, just in case you need any help."

"Alright then." Nacen slid out of bed and shook herself all over, dislodging a few of her loose scale plates. "I'll take it easy, don't worry."

"See that you do. Stay in the greenhouse where it's warm." The medic gave Nacen a look that was just a bit too knowing. "And when you find Harkwin, you two should not be exerting yourselves. Got it?"

Nacen nodded meekly, and she silently wondered if the privacy curtains which were pulled around each infirmary bed at night weren't actually as private as she (and Harkwin) had assumed. "I just want to take a walk. I'll be back soon for dinner."

The medic nodded. "Fresh air is good for your health, as is exercise, and friendship."

Nacen went along the underground tunnel, but climbing the stairs up to the greenhouse was more of a challenge than she'd anticipated. She had never been the most fitness or exercise obsessed sort of drakken, but she'd always at least been at least reasonably_in shape--enough to fly easily, and enough to be considered slender (or sometimes a bit _too slender)--yet now she found herself panting for breath, after just climbing up the stairwell back to ground level. She couldn't have gotten fatter, but clearly she was still weakened from the stormy ordeal, which made climbing stairs a challenge.

Stepping out of the tunnel and into the greenhouse, Nacen sat back on her hinds and caught her breath. All around her was a large, enclosed structure made from panels of clear glass supported by metal struts. The greenhouse was filled with green. Plants were everywhere, filling up most of the internal space--rows of berry-filled bushes in pots, sections with countless creeper vines clinging to trellises, and even an area where a selection of small (but productive) fruit trees had been planted right into the soil at ground level. The air here was just as warm as the infirmary had been, but it was also much more humid. Things smelled fresh and alive, and Nacen inhaled deeply.

There were other dragons in the greenhouse as well. Greenery workers were maintaining the plants, spreading fertilizer, or even using water magic to keep the soil moist. But there were also other dragons who weren't at work. The greenhouses were more than just the food sources of the expedition--they were also a place where expedition members could come to just enjoy the greenery and the warmth, and to relax during their free time. There were several clearly demarcated tiled paths which led through the building, intended to allow visitors to stroll through the greenhouse without disturbing the plants or the greenery workers.

One particular dragon caught Nacen's eye, and she got back up to her feet and walked over. Harkwin was standing by the side of the greenhouse--the grey-scaled drake was staring dramatically out through the glass walls, watching the snowflakes gently tumble down from above. Nacen couldn't help but grin as she came up beside Harkwin. Something about seeing him just made her hearts beat a bit faster, and her attraction to him almost felt like it was manifesting as an actual physical tug pulling her towards him.

Harkwin turned his head, and he smiled when he saw her. "Oh, hello. You finally woke up from your nap."

"Yep. It was a pleasant nap." Nacen sat down right next to Harkwin. "The medic told me that you'd come up here for a walk, so I thought that I'd join you."

Harkwin said nothing and he resumed staring out the glass walls, but then after a moment he moved his tail and entwined its tip with Nacen's, which made her crest fin perk up from happiness. The two dragons stared out of the greenhouse, watching the slow fall of snow that was gradually covering the landscape in a thicker layer of white. The walls of the greenhouse cast slightly distorted reflections because there were actually multiple layers of glass to provide better insulation.

"So... Are you feeling better?" Harkwin asked, after they'd enjoyed several moments of relaxed, shared silence.

"Better, yes. I've still got a bit of a cough, but other than that I'm feeling much better." Nacen cleared her throat, which was a wet, phlegmy, faintly disgusting sound. "We actually probably shouldn't be sitting so close together. I don't want you to catch my cough."

Harkwin grunted, and he casually unfurled a wing and wrapped it around her back to pull her close. "Pah. Stop me then..." he murmured, and Nacen laughed.

"I guess if my cough was contagious, we've already done other things which were far less hygienic than just sitting together," she replied.

"Mm. You know it!" Harkwin nuzzled affectionately against Nacen's snout, but then he had to pull back and furl his wing up again as several other dragons came walking over towards this side of the greenhouse. Relationships and affection weren't technically prohibited by expedition regulations, but it could make their work more complicated; and regardless, there were some acts which deserved privacy and intimacy, not public exhibition. Nacen did keep her tail entwined around Harkwin's, though--that was at least a more subtle act then a hug or a kiss.

"And what about you? Are you feeling better?" Nacen asked.

"I'm normal! I feel like I'm well enough to resume my duties already. The medics say I should be able to resume flights within a few days," Harkwin replied.

"Already? You're going to rush back into flying to the outposts already?"

Harkwin nodded towards the outside. "It's been too long since I've flown. I'm just itching to feel the air under my wings! And besides, I'm a scout. If I don't fly, I'm not helping the expedition. It's my duty to fly, keeping all those outposts in communication with Central Camp here."

"Hmmrr..." Nacen let out a quiet, purring rumble from the back of her throat. Harkwin's dedication and his enthusiasm for the expedition were admirable, and hearing him talk like that stirred a tinge of hope in her mind. It was also nice to hear him talk about flying. Harkwin had such nice, muscular wings, good for flying, and even better for hugging...

Nacen blinked, and she refocused her thoughts back to the present. "Has your frost magic recovered? I'm still failing that cold bracelet affinity test."

Raising his head, Harkwin exhaled a tiny jet of frostbreath, which immediately created a puff of condensation in the humid greenhouse air. "Yeah, my magic seems to be back. Is yours still not back?"

Nacen opened her jaws and tried to exhale frostbreath, but all she did was look slightly silly. Nothing came from her mouth but air. "Huuh...! No, that's still not working."

"I'm sure your magic will come back soon too," Harkwin assured her.

"Hopefully so. No reason why it shouldn't," Nacen agreed. "But still... After all that we've been through, you're just going to go back into the cold? Into... all that?" She gestured towards the outside, where the sky was grey and the snow was falling.

"We're explorers of the far south! Cold is part of the job description," Harkwin replied. "Surely you're going to return to work eventually?"

"Well, yes, but if at all possible that will be in a warm, safe research lab. I'm going to request to stay here in Central. Someone else can take care of Outpost 20 for the rest of the expedition," Nacen decided, though this was only part of the reason why she wanted to stay at Central.

Sure there were more heating and more living amenities, but it was also so much less lonely in Central Camp. Here there were so many other dragons--there was chatting and games during the rest hours, there were shared meals eaten together in the cookhouse, and there was also Harkwin, who she could see every night and morning instead of once a week.

Without it being said, Harkwin seemed to understand this too. "Oh, you can do that? Just... request not to be sent out to the outpost?"

"Normally I think the senior researchers wouldn't let someone shirk out of outpost duty, but I'd say that I've fulfilled all my live-in-a-tent responsibilities after that storm. I'm pretty sure they'll understand and let me help with the research work here," Nacen replied.

Harkwin nodded. "Sounds good."

Nacen shrugged. "Not that I couldn't do field work again. I mean, I could. I could definitely head back out into the snow and just... just go back to taking water samples from the hot spring or whatever, if I really had to. I'm not asking for pity, and I'm not saying I'm scared of the snow."

Harkin chuckled, sounding amused. "Hehe. Nacen, I never said you were scared of the snow."

"Good, because I'm not." Nacen stood up as a sudden impulse came to her. "You know what? I've been spending so much time huddled under a blanket in the warmth of the infirmary. Let's go out into the snow just for a moment. Maybe that'll get my frost magic running again."

Turning his gaze to her, Harkwin gave her a look of concern. "Are you... sure about that? This isn't storm cold, but it is still polar cold. If your frost magic isn't recovered, you're not going to be comfortable at all."

A daring grin crossed Nacen's snout. "Just for a moment! We've been indoors for days, ever since they flew us back here. Let's make it quick. We won't even walk about the camp, just step outside then right back in."

"Fine, fine..." Harkwin looked amused, but he obligingly followed along as Nacen went over to one of the double doored entryways which led in and out of the greenhouse. The two young dragons stepped into the antechamber which stood in between the warmth of the greenhouse interior and the cold of the outside. "Last chance to back out?" Harkwin offered.

"Hmm, nah. How bad can it be?" Nacen hesitated for a moment, then she shoved the door's push bar with her shoulder and stepped out into the far south. Instantly a wall of cold air slammed into her. "Ooh! Okay! That is cold. I have changed my mind and immediately regret this!" Nacen immediately spun around and quickly headed back in. Once again inside the greenhouse's antechamber, she hopped around and tried to shake off any snow from her paws. "So cold. So coooold!"

Harkwin was still standing outside. He appeared to be laughing, and he rolled a small snowball and tossed it at the door's window so that the snow splattered against the glass. Nacen stuck her tongue out at him. Harkwin then opened the door to come back inside, which made Nacen recoil back as a cold wind briefly blew in from the outside. "Hahaha, seriously? It was your idea to go outside in the first place!" Harkwin said, grinning widely.

Nacen flicked her crest fin. "In hindsight, that was not one of my better decisions. Brrr... so cold." She wrapped her wings around herself like a blanket, then changed her mind and decided there was a better way to do this. Walking over to Harkwin, she leaned against him. "Please hug me."

Harkwin smiled, and he did. His wings felt warm and protective as they wrapped around her. "You are hilarious, you know that? You silly, smart, funny dragon, you. Don't go outside till your frost magic is fully back!"

"Hmmmmrrr..." Nacen let out a rumbly pleased sigh. For that moment, it was just the two of them in this antechamber, out of view from the rest of the greenhouse and able to embrace each other. "That's probably good advice."

"Was this all just a plot to have me hug you? You could have just asked."

Nacen hummed, and she shrugged. "Hnng. It's a nice hug! Ok, that's enough. Let's go back--it should be dinnertime soon."

"Excellent. I'm feeling hungry," Harkwin said.

Turning around, Nacen couldn't keep a faint skip out of her step. She wasn't quite sure what she'd come all the way out to the far south to find--scientific discoveries, a boost to her career, or an adventure?--but instead she'd found a friend and more, and that was all the more valuable. She playfully bumped her shoulder against Harkwin's.

Walking side by side, the two young dragons headed back inside the greenery, where it was warm and safe.

END

Clickthrough link for another story: _ The Best Laid Plans of Dragons & Men _,

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