Kaerlorvek fell a lot faster than he had expected. He knew true flight wasn't within his wing's grasp, but he had hoped a short glide would be manageable.
Alas, the ground dashed his expectations as he hurtled towards it, crashing through a heavy tree branch before landing with a pathetic thud against the forest floor.
A pained, reptilian groan rolled from his throat a second later.
He gave his wings and legs a quick glance over before tentatively moving them. Nothing broken, just bruises beneath the scales and to pride.
The avian morsel he had been eyeing had taken flight after his rather sudden reunion with the ground. Only for the bird to return, staring down at him from a high branch as he lay in an ungainly pile of limbs—its high-pitched birdsong sounding like laughter against his ears.
"I am so turning you into a roast..." the dragon grumbled before gingerly rolling onto all four of his feet.
Hmmm... That was rather unlike him, he thought. Or, rather, it was unlike Wymond. Such immature huffs would come naturally to a dragonling.
Curious. Was it because of his new body? Or was it something Oriana had engineered to help him slip into his new life? Maybe it was neither, a consequence of his former life remaining brief flashes amongst murky unknowns, an incomplete version of the scouring all Souls underwent between lives.
He supposed it didn't matter in the end; although it could be a fun topic to raise with his mother next year.
His stomach protested again.
"I hear you, I hear you... Just... give me a minute... I'm still figuring things out..." the small-dog sized dragonling grumbled again.
Even if he wished to put his claws to work and climb up to the bird mocking him, the darn thing's focus was on him. It would fly away long before he ever reached the branch it was on.
He'd have to chase a game that was closer to the ground.
Fortunately, he appeared to remember a few tidbits for hunting and surviving in the woods. Vague memories of wandering through the woods as a child, foraging for food and trapping rabbits, surfaced alongside a harpy's proud boasting of various hunting techniques. Some of it, at least, seemed applicable to his current body.
He was sure there were better ways for a dragon like him to hunt. Even as his keen eyes peered to and fro for the familiar tracks, his nose was awash with aromas and scents that he was fairly certain were novel to both of his lives.
Not that that helped him at the moment, considering he hadn't a clue what those scents meant or to whom they belonged.
Not yet, anyway...
After quite a few minutes of searching, traveling along soft, uplifted soil that his quarry would be more likely to call home, his keen eyes spotted the small footprints he was looking for.
Out of curiosity, he leaned his snout down to the prints and took in a whiff... But to his annoyance, he couldn't make out a distinct scent—only faint aromas of trodden dirt, crushed grass, and the dozens of other subtle tones that combined to give the prints their own 'flavor'.
He could not identify all the ingredients that went into the particular aroma, much like he wouldn't be able to identify the ingredients of a meal—but he could separate the differences between one dish and a neighboring one by the sum of their subtle differences.
In effect, he realized he could identify this track's scent from a different track's, for whatever that was worth.
Another faint memory emerged: he was a young child, huffing because one of the other boys in the village had gotten a dog and was boasting about how many rabbits he could hunt with it.
The platinum-scaled dragonling's lips adopted a wry smile. 'Good news, little Wymond, you got yourself a hunting dog after all—yourself!'
At least he had that other boy beat by having a hunting dragon instead of some mutt!
Still, he had found some tracks; all he'd need to do now was set a trap and—
Oh... right.
Kaerlorvek glanced down at his foreclaws. True, he had an opposable thumb digit, but the bit of walking and sprinting he had done in his new life had already taught him plenty of its limitations. In order to serve as a walking limb, his forward talons had much less dexterity than his old human hands.
Not impossible for him to fashion a trap with... But perhaps not something to rely upon, especially since he had hardly practiced those skills since his halcyon days in the village.
Fortunately, he need not rely upon traps anymore! He possessed a set of claws and teeth that would be more than capable of dispatching a small mammal.
He just needed to get close enough to catch it.
Hmm. He didn't think the tracks looked too old nor too fresh, and they were near water. From the limited knowledge of rabbiting he retained, he would guess that the rabbit would be back to drink soon enough—a prime opportunity for an ambush!
He just needed to find a good place to strike from.
The tree branches...? Maybe, once he got the hang of gliding with his wings, they would certainly increase his options. But for now, he was as awkward with using his wings as he was with his legs upon first hatching.
Float in the stream with his nose just above the water like a myrmidon hound? Hmm... Could he even float? How quickly could he swim forward or charge out of the bank once his prey had arrived? Perhaps some experimentation later on might prove enlightening.
Hide in the nearest patch of tall grass and wait?
That should work... It wasn't great, since the nearest patch large enough to hide a small dragon was a bit away, but he had gained enough confidence with his legs to manage a quick sprint. If he was lucky, he might even have an advantage—he was the first hatchling in 1,000 years; rabbits and other typical dragonling prey should have long forgotten their wariness!
Hiding in the patch of grass, wings tucked close against his body, and his long, serpentine frame tucked close against the ground, he was surprisingly still... There were none of the idle twitches of anxious scaled flesh, nor the idle flick of his tail that he thought he would need to suppress. Even his stomach seemed to settle as he waited in ambush. The instincts of a predatory species, he supposed, designed to ambush unwary prey.
Or, maybe it was a serendipitous boon from a dragon's hibernating instincts?
Either way, his body seemed adept at preserving its remaining energy while he waited, golden eyes peering out from silvery-platinum scales as he stared towards the bubbling brook.
He must have waited for the better part of an hour, long enough that his stomach gave a few feeble growls despite its renewed patience, before he spotted his quarry.
True enough, it was a rabbit—a young adult or juvenile, by his best guess. It must have recently left its parents' warren to forge out on its own, and had the misfortune of being the first morsel the ravenous newborn dragon had discovered.
The platinum hatchling waited, not striking as soon as he saw it, but watching as the rabbit searched the area and loped towards the stream, oblivious to the lurking predator.
Kaerlorvek's tongue flicked over his lips as drool trickled down his fangs. His limbs flexed with mounting trepidation.
There... Just as the beast was leaning down to drink!
The dragonling sprang forward, a blur of platinum scales as he pounced towards his morsel—claws extended, fangs waiting as backup. He just needed to get one good strike on the rabbit then, even if it got away, he'd be able to chase it down!
As soon as he jumped, the rabbit moved. It didn't even confirm what the noise was before launching itself to put as much distance between itself and the mysterious predator.
The dragon's talons reached forward, swiping towards the beast...!
And swung just shy—whiffing with only a tuft of fur cut loose from the bunny's pelt before it bolted away. He crashed unceremoniously into the dirt, still not having figured out how this whole landing business worked .
There was no use in getting up. By the time his head swiveled his golden eyes towards the rabbit, it had already made it to the treeline—leaving the hungry dragonling grumbling underneath his breath at his misfortune.
That damn bird's mocking call rang forth again, and his stomach's complaints re-surged.