The Jade Cave was a symphony of soft snores and rhythmic breathing. Kinkajou was a vibrant splash of pink and orange even in the dim light, curled into a tight ball. Winter, predictably, was a rigid, pale blue statue, his breathing barely audible. Turtle was a lump of dark scales near the pool, his bioluminescent spots extinguished. Moon, in her alcove, was a still, dark shadow, her presence a quiet hum I could almost feel, even without my seismic sensitivity. But the thump-thump of the mountain, that was a different story. It was a low, insistent pulse beneath my talons, a constant reminder of the urgency that gnawed at my insides. Qibli, ever the master of subtle movement, slid out of his alcove like a shadow detaching itself from the wall. His scales were a muted gold in the faint glow of the dying fire-globes, and his movements were fluid, silent. He gave me a quick, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and caution. I returned it, my own muscles coiled, ready. The plan was simple: wait until the academy was truly asleep, then slip out and follow the mountain’s pulse to its source. I rose, my powerful SandWing frame moving with a surprising grace that belied my size. Every scale, every muscle, was attuned to the silence, to the subtle shifts in the air. The scar over my left eye prickled, a familiar sensation that meant my senses were on high alert. This was what I was built for: the quiet hunt, the stealthy pursuit, the navigation of danger in the dark. The desert had taught me patience and precision, and I intended to use every lesson. We moved towards the cave entrance, our talons barely whispering against the stone. The thump-thump was a rapid, agitated beat now, guiding me, pulling me deeper into the mountain. It felt like a living thing, a desperate heart struggling to be heard. The whispers, too, were there, a faint, almost subliminal chorus that seemed to rise and fall with the mountain’s pulse. They were still indistinct, a jumble of ancient fears and pleas, but they were growing clearer, more insistent. Just as Qibli reached the mouth of the tunnel, a soft, clear voice cut through the silence, making both of us freeze. "Going somewhere?" Moon. She stood at the entrance of her alcove, a dark silhouette against the faint light, her silver teardrop scales glowing with a soft, ethereal light. Her eyes, usually so gentle, were sharp, piercing, and fixed directly on us. There was no anger in her voice, only a quiet, unwavering certainty. Qibli recovered first, a charming, slightly sheepish grin spreading across his snout. "Moon! Fancy meeting you here. Just, uh, going for a late-night stroll. You know, to admire the in the patterns of sleep. And I saw the way you two were looking at each other all day, whispering in corners. You’re up to something." My scales bristled. I hated being caught, hated the feeling of being exposed. But there was no denying her. She hadn’t used her powers, not overtly, but she had seen through our flimsy pretense with an unnerving clarity. It was a testament to her unique perception, a different kind of sensitivity than my own, but equally potent. Qibli sighed, running a talon over his snout. "Alright, you caught us. We were going to investigate the mountain. The humming. The tremors. Cactus thinks it’s more than just natural settling, and I She nodded, her expression serious. "Understood, Cactus. I can be quiet when I need to be. And I can see in the dark better than any of you." Qibli grinned, a genuine, excited grin. "Excellent! A trio of intrepid explorers! The SandWing with the seismic sense, the NightWing with the blank spot, and the Moon nodded, her jaw set. I took a deep breath, the cold, heavy air filling my lungs. The mountain was screaming. The whispers were crying out. And we, the unlikely trio of a scarred SandWing, a clever SandWing, and a sensitive NightWing, were about to answer its call. The sneak out was over. The real journey, the dangerous one, was just beginning. And I had a terrifying feeling that the secrets we were about to uncover would change Jade Mountain, and perhaps all of Pyrrhia, forever.

The Sneak Out