Awoken Dragon Princess

The door rattles. "Damn," he mutters under his breath. Eyes flit between the equally nondescript doors, searching for any sign directing their path forward. There's no secret message hidden in the wood grains--not that he can discern, anyway.

Laslow's always been a man of instinct. Impulse, some might say, but he can't bother with semantics when another furious rattle breaks their small reprieve.

"This way." With far more confidence than he feels, he helps Corrin along to the south door. "Everyone, stay behind me."

He inhales and turns the handle. It opens, to his great surprise, and he's quick to slip through.

The south door is unlocked so you’re lucky there. There’s a highly detailed human statue…. Several, actually. In this room, lined up against the walls but more like furniture in storage than decoration on display.

But even with her vision still spinning, Corrin can see the statues before them in enough detail to feel unsettled. Her weight shifts where she's propped against Laslow. "They look..." Squinting does little to help her case, but she tries anyway, tongue stilled before she can finish the sentence.

Because nothing alive would be stone, surely. Someone must have just had quite a lot of stone and free time. Surely.

Princess dares a step forward from her crutch, fingers still curled in Laslow's sleeve as her free hand reaches dumbly for the nearest statue. There are still footsteps from where they came, nearing with every heartbeat. Corrin's hand stops midair.

Before you can even reach the door, the entire floor in this room flickers and you suddenly fall through darkness for what you feel like has to be minutes, until you blink and find your feet on the ground, in a room you don’t recognize. This one is lined with cells. All of them empty

One blink, two, a third for good measure. They hadn't gone back -- this was nothing like where their holding had been -- but how?

Whatever chill the sight sent to crawl along her spine suddenly reaches through her bones to wrap its claws around her throat, the floor beneath them— no, everything around them— gone; only darkness remains, empty and far too vast. Her heart hammers in her ears, hands flitting back in search of purchase and finding none. Heels stumble against nothing, until she clasps her hands together, white-knuckled… then it is distant, more distant still, and her feet touch the ground once more.

“You’re right,” Maria answers Corrin in a soft voice. The presence of anything at all offers her comfort greater than whatever fretfulness its unfamiliarity presents. Looking across the hallway stretched before them, there are a great many cells, but no promise of safety until they’ve escaped this place. So she trots forward in an uneven gait until she might lay a palm against a door once more, her hand curling around one of its bars as she creeps slowly into sight. Were there people? Not guards this time, surely — this end of their personal labyrinth rang too cold with conformity. Even if they still search for them, they would be elsewhere.

But what she finds is worse than guards: proof of the absence of their necessity. Familiar fabric lays abandoned near blood staining the ground — a makeshift bandage she had torn from her own skirt.

“The children,” she gasps, turning her gaze back toward the others, and further beyond. An exit at either end, the dark path behind them leading further down. Then, more urgently: “They’re gone! That bandage, I…” Breath quavers in her chest, soon sealed behind the pressing of her lips. Silence, everywhere; they would have caught the ears of any prisoners by now, steeped as they were in this terrible silence. There is no need to raise her voice further.

“They’re…” There is a sadness in her eyes, one she fails to hide; raising one hand, she points toward the darker stairwell. “They’re probably… down there.” Gharnef had favored the similarly decrepit. “But I don’t know— I don’t know if we can help them.” And she wants to — oh, she aches to— but she is little better than she was the day they were taken from Nahan. Neither does she wish to see her comrades throw themselves upon the swords of enemies they cannot hope to defeat. But still… but still, she is a bleeding heart; it is the best of her, and it is the worst of her.

She kept up with the group, trusting them to lead them to where they needed to go. The room with the statues gave her the creeps, straight chills down her spine that made her stumble back and shiver behind the group, but she still forced her legs to move through the room, albeit trailing behind out of discomfort for the statues. Though perhaps she needn’t worry about the statues eerie presence when the floor gave way beneath her.

A sharp breath followed by a yelp and instinctively Tiki tried to reach for her non-existent dragonstone, failure preceded the darkness that followed and Tiki shut her eyes. It was okay, the darkness would abate, she was sure about it. She forced herself to think happy thoughts over and over again, replaying good memories to push out the nightmares in her head until her feet touched the solid ground. 

Everything after his conversation with the guard is a blur--probably for the best, judging by their disheveled state. His temples still throb with a headache, though at least he's no longer bleeding from his wounds.

They've found a meager respite in this break room, though he won't be lulled into a false sense of security. Senses still on high alert, he creeps closer to the locked door, adjusting his hold on Corrin. Laslow stares at the key for a heartbeat. Honestly, they could use every ounce of luck Lady Fate has to offer. Blowing kisses has always been a superstition of his--

He shakes his head, dislodging a dust bunny from his hair, and hobbles forward with Corrin in tow. Kisses for luck aside, Laslow fits the key in the lock, relieved when it turns and he hears the tell-tale click.

“Careful now,” he murmurs and gives it a gentle push.

There's a guard inside. As soon as you open the door, he turns around, surprised. Then angry. "Hey!" he shouts, and charges for you with his spear. [Roll 1d3: 2. We run!]

She hoped that would be enough to keep the guard busy for just a bit longer so their little rag-tag group could make an escape. Just for good measure, she locked the door behind her with the key Big Brother Laslow left in the lock. Ban-Ban had always warned her to lock the doors behind her, since she would never know when the scary Lord Gotoh might try to barge into her room and drag her back into the Ice Temple to sleep again. The little manakete shivered at the thought, this held all the more true now to follow Ban-Ban’s advice, lest the spear gets too close to her friends.

Her attention wanders towards one of the soldiers that has been stationed by her. Princess clears her throat, shifting her weight as the man gives her a sidelong glance.

“Excuse me?” The exhaustion she feels is no act, though there's an ounce of intention to how her lashes flutter. “Sorry, I just… there was a vial with my things… I’ve been ill, it’s meant to help…” she trails off, voice quiet. “Would it be too much trouble for it to be brought to me, maybe?”

The soldier is a little... not suspicious, but wary. None of them know what exactly Corrin did to break dent the bars like she did, or freak everyone else out. "What kind of illness?" he asks her somewhat suspiciously, though his aim is to figure out if it has anything to do with whatever she did earlier.

Corrin looks around a moment, as though checking to see who all can hear them before speaking again. “It’s something I’ve had since birth — it’s not contagious or anything." She isn't lying, not really. “It causes me to black out. I don’t exactly know what happens during those times but,” a shake of her head, expression grim, “I wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt anyone.”

"We'll just tie you up good 'n tight then. Can't move. Can't hurt anyone."

She shifts again, awkward. “I… I guess… but it would just put me at ease to have. I promise it doesn’t do anything more than keep me conscious.”

After a moment, the man finally relents, but it's clear that this isn't exactly approved by the others. He rummages through their collection of things surreptitiously before finding the odd green vial and bringing it to her.

The next moments are... strange. The vial's contents are poured past her lips and swallowed with relative ease. She hadn't expected to get away with this, had been hoping she'd be learning the truth of that apothecary's work from an outsider's perspective.

But, well...

Corrin's vision swirls, her limbs becoming suddenly wobbly. The man hadn't lied, all of her pain eases in the few heartbeats it takes for the elixir to begin working, but he hadn't exactly mentioned this.

And it certainly isn't what she would consider cloud-like, the feeling of rough hands hoisting her upward and dropping her rather unceremoniously onto the cart's floor.

...dispelled when Corrin rejoins them, half-delirious, in the cart. She has rested long enough (though she still wobbles as she shifts), sitting on her knees and looking over her companion for wounds. Eyes flit up to meet her professor's, taking the measure of his injuries in a moment before finally holding his gaze.

"Professor," she begins, softly, "Could you please help me tear up my dress? Into strips of fabric, like before." A beat late, her smile returns, apologetic. "I don't think I can..."

With a murmured thanks, she sets about her work as soon as she is able, bandaging each of her allies in turn as best she can. ("No protesting," she giggles softly, just as adamant as she was back then but gentler in her stance.) A glance thrown toward the others in the cage with them reveals that though some of them have already bandaged themselves, still others continue to bleed; all of them are in rough shape, it seems. Guilt sinks its claws into her heart -- that she had waited so long, that she had so little to give-- and, again, Maria offers them a smile.

"I have bandages," is all she says. "I'd like to help you... May I? Please?"

A pitched gasp as Tiki crawled over to Corrin’s side, her beady worried eyes scanning the drugged-up princess before her. She held her hands over Corrin, her concerns growing until Corrin flashed her a slight smile and Maria began her work to wrap up the injuries of all those around her. Tiki felt so small amongst her companions, but what could she do? Her dragonstone taken, weak as she was, battered and only just recovered from her own crying episode prior. Watching Maria do her hardest to wrap up their injuries, Laslow do his best to cheer up the children and Corrin doing her utmost to stick close to everyone, to never let them out of each other’s sight. Yet what was she to do? She hadn’t done anything. Before the guilt could swallow her once more into those never-ending nightmares, there was a spark of hope behind her eyes.  Jumping to her feet, the vague wisps of memories prodded at her brain once more. There were still things she could do that no one else could. Her friends were making sure everyone smiled and was safe and calm, but no one did it for them. So, what if she took on that responsibility?

Alert, Laslow dares raise his head from where he'd let it thump uncomfortably against a bar, scanning the woods surrounding them. Tch. Typical slavers, hiding amongst trees. Cowards.

He shuffles around until he's crouching on the balls of his feet, tracking the two guards passing out water. "I'm not familiar with this land. Where are we?" He asks quietly. Damn, if only he'd tried to memorize that map from the apothecary.

The one who had asked him why he was here earlier has still been watching him and answers in that cheeky/sarcastic way teenagers do: “Somewhere near Lake Verdane.” She glances toward the body of water they’ve stopped by. Then she looks back and realizes that Laslow was serious. “Probably just past Marpha… maybe…”

Laslow nods. "Thanks. We did want to travel to Marpha…do you know where they’re taking us?”

“I don’t know about you, but the rest of us—“ she gestures to the other women and children, a number of which are now sitting on the ground, listening, mostly staring off into space, “—are probably going wherever the fell god is supposed to be resurrected. That’s what my ma said after my sis was taken.” She says this matter-of-factly and steely eyed, as if she were reporting about the weather.

“Hm.” He frowns, lost in thought. “Wait. So these guys have raided your town before? that’s why we saw battle scars.” But he brightens a little, in true Laslow fashion “Guess we’ll have to go rescue your sister then, eh?”

She shakes her head. “Not Nahan. We… moved. After the last time.” She smiles weakly at mention of rescuing her sister, but her eyes flit away and she doesn’t say anything else.

Another murmur of thanks and he returns to watching their captors. Heartless, cruel bastards, the lot of them. What kind of religion can justify this?

But from the soldiers comes unease. They show no intention of letting her reunite with those who she came with, and with every fleeting glance and hushed tone, Corrin becomes more and more aware of the danger she has put herself in.

Though her fear is not for herself, not really. It's the people here that she wishes to help that she fears for. Laslow was capable, this she knew, but against so many soldiers...?

Corrin watches him a moment, feels that longing for home gnaw at her empty stomach. She has her dragonstone, she has a way out.

But would they follow her, seeing how afraid she had made them?

She rubbed at her swollen eyes, shuffling up closer to Maria who took up the responsibility to hold the little manakete close. There was a rumble in Tiki’s chest, the welling of power that was flowing out from the silver-haired princess outside. Tiki could feel it, the deep fluxes of energy emanating from Corrin, the very essence of draconic heritage and energy. A squirm within Maria’s embrace as Tiki pondered on it slightly, her mind wondering why Corrin was not transforming? If she were in Corrin’s position she would- And then the sea of fearful children smacked her right in the eyes. Tiki tensed in her embrace with Maria, realisation hitting her hard. But there was still a way, a way to maybe help her fellow dragon, Corrin… That name was too complicated for her, so she opted for a nickname instead. With that settled she turned to Laslow with beady puppy eyes. 

But the only glances that are thrown her way are the same wary ones she's been receiving since her little stunt. Looks of fear, ones she hasn't known to be familiar since a time that feels ancient.

Princess feels her shoulders draw in closer, her steps dragging. If she knew where they were going, or maybe if she had just thought a little harder about how to escape, she could do something.

As it stands now, though, she cannot.

It's touching in a morbid sort of way, though, to be a witness to the attempts of comfort made by those within the cage. Fears are soothed enough to quiet the sobs of children, to dry tears and even breathing, and yet even still the inevitable lingers.

His smile doesn't dim; allowing that to fall feels like admitting defeat.

"How'd they get you?" A young girl calls, leaning against rusty cage bars. Laslow meets her intense stare with a careless shrug.

"A fine question, young lass! One minute we were fighting--and gaining the upper hand, mind you--and the next, I woke up here." He drops his voice to a whisper. "I think one of them played a dirty trick and knocked me out. Quite rude, eh?"

A sigh escapes his lips. "No way to treat a dashing young hero. But! Now we can figure our way out of this together."

He glances around, noting the rays of sunlight beginning to lighten the horizon. Maria and Tiki remain huddled close--he's glad they have each other for support. Corrin walks doggedly on, though the droop of her shoulders worries him.

She couldn't know these bars would resist her draconic strength. Attention rests on the dented one as if it could provide him a solution. Sure, with enough brute strength, maybe they could create a gap big enough for them to slip through, but then what? They're in an unknown land, outmanned, with the safety of women and children in their hands.

It chafes, sitting by, instead of leaping into action. Loathe as he is to admit it, he's not up for fighting multiple well-rested enemies. Though a good fight might impress some of the ladies here--no, focus, Laslow, focus.

Finally, Tiki dared to look up at Maria, her eyes swollen and red, but she smiled. “We have beaten the scary enemies many times before, sister Maria.” Tiki agreed as her tears fell down her face, but her smile lit up her face, still strong and determined. “So we can do it again like Sister Maria said, fight and fight like Mar-Mar would!” She looked for reassurance in her sister, but knew where she needed her heart to be. 

Corrin trails behind the tail of a horse, hands freshly bound. A glance is sketched towards the cart that she has just been torn from, the commotion inside of it loud enough that she doesn’t exactly have to look to know what she’ll see.

There will be better chances for… better planned escapes, later. Her own effort had been brash and undeniably stupid, leaving only a dent and panicked children to show for it.

Said children are just about the only sound she’s heard, for even the birds have surrendered their early-morning chatter in favor of morbid silence. It is as though even the world around them knows that something terrible waits for them.

She will not dream this time, she thinks; from what she had learned before, their opponents here did not favor the same such techniques, but her eyes nevertheless stay trained on the sunrise, desperate not to sleep. Still...

"Michalis..." She breathes, softly, head drooping to the side. "Brother... Sister..."

Absent of adrenaline, it is the cart's wheel jostling over a stone in the road that rouses her. Even a deeply drawn breath does little to push her heartbeat back down her throat. She looks to all of her companions in turn.

Everything hurts; his head especially throbs in time with his rapid heartbeat. Ginger fingers prod at the sizeable bump already forming atop his skull. First the misunderstanding with the villagers, then a weapon hilt, and now a cart full of crying kids.

He feels sluggish, still a half-step behind even with the excitement of Corrin's escape attempt. "I'm alright," he replies to Maria, voice equally soft. He shifts a little and winces as fresh pain lances along his side. Though he can't make out the true extent of her injuries in the dim light, he sees enough.

It takes a few tries, but he manages to tear a strip off the bottom of his shirt and passes it over to Maria. "Here. Not much, but should help staunch the worst bleeding." Lips twitch into what he hopes is a reassuring grin before turning to the recently injured child.

"Hello," he says quietly, ripping off another piece of his shirt. Carefully, he presses the cloth against their bloody nose. "My name's Laslow. It's been scary, yeah? My friends and I are going to do our best to help everyone."

There was someone talking to her, she couldn’t hear it. There was someone touching her, she leaned into it. There was someone who comforted her, she melted into it. Was it Mar-Mar? No. Those hands were too small to be his, there were no gloves in that touch that indicated it was the Hero-King. Yet they coaxed her out, they called for her, with tears of their own. 

Were they crying too? Were they hurting too? Tiki came here because she wanted to help, she had promised Big Sister Caeda, Ban-Ban and Mar-Mar that she would be stronger so she could be like them and save others as well. A promise is a promise. Good girls will keep to their promise, and she was one.

The cries of the past melted into the cries of children, the fear that sunk into her body became the fear of the people around her, and the pain she felt wasn’t her own anymore. The darkness abated.

Tiki opened her eyes from that waking dream. 

The cabin is not completely devoid of the cold, but it’s much better than standing outside or even in her room. The sound of the fire crackling is music to her ears, and she could easily sit by it for the rest of the day without a care, enveloped by the warmth…

Until a cry for help sounds out, causing Eirika to grow alert. She looks around for the source, eyes darting until she finally spots the young girl outside. Her first thought is simple: the young girl had been hurt on her way inside, or perhaps she was beginning to succumb to the cold. She hurries onto her feet, rushing to be by her side. “Are you alright!? It isn’t safe out in the cold—“ Eirika kneels, trying to get a better look at the small girl to see if there were any signs of injuries— huh?

How she wanted to apologise to this pretty lady that appeared before her, the teal hair falling from her shoulders reminded Tiki of the ocean, the serenity of Eirika against the backdrop of the night sky high above the sky reminded her of the silvery rays of moonlight. Elegant and calming as the moon itself, Tiki would have described Princess before her, but at the moment… That was far back in the depths of her mind compared to the absolute searing pain that overwhelmed her senses in the moment. Quivering jade eyes stared back at Eirika, narrow and glossy with tears that endlessly fell from them like a waterfall. Despite the biting cold of the snowstorm around them, the bright red flush on Tiki’s cheeks were naught a result of the cold, but instead something else as she finally managed to pry her numb mouth open to voice her mistake. “H-Hawwt! Pain! Ma-Mawwth, mouth on fieya!” She barely managed to squeak out, her wings fluttering and tail slapping the bowl of spicy chicken wings which almost spilled the bowl of what could only be described as ‘Food from the Depths of the Abyss’.

the pegasus knight climbs quickly back onto the dock, tiki's dragon form now towering over her. she isn't surprised that banri was starting to try and teach her to have some more independence. "that water is no match for the both of us. we'll get mar-mar back in no time, right?" she says with a lighthearted chuckle before climbing onto the manakete's back.

“Big Sis Caeda is very gentle!” Tiki sang, lifting her wings off the ground and shaking her body slightly with a little dance. “Big Sis has a very warm grip, I like it lots and lots! That’s why I love Big Sister Caeda, because Big Sis is so gentle and kind and makes me very very happy inside!” Tiki squealed lightly as she lumbered over to the edge of the dock. Her neck craned over the water before she cooed. “Here we go, Big Sis!” A long, deep inhale was sucked into Tiki’s chest, the little manakete waiting for Caeda to do the same before she spread her wings out and leaped into the water with splash and dive. 

The water enveloped them as Tiki made the plunge with Caeda on her back, greeting them with a myriad of tiny warm bubbles that tickled the feathers of Tiki’s wings. The not-so-little manakete danced in the water, swimming deeper and deeper. Her wings raised up a little around Caeda to protect her Big Sister from the cold waters, their damp yet warm feathers providing comfort in the depths of the lake’s waters as it nestled and snuggled up to the Pegasus Knight. 

A whiff of piping hot food wafted its way to her senses and Tiki’s sense perked up, remembering what she had brought out with her just a while back from inside the little house overflowing with warmth and light laughter to accompany the conversations within. On normal occasions, she would be inside, mingling with all the other students and enjoying the much more bearable comforting temperatures of the fireplace. 

Yet she continued to sit outside, staring at the bright twinkling stars above, counting each and everyone of their uncountable numerous twinkles as they blinked and waved back at her, dancing on the skies’ dark canvas. Her little fingers reached over to the little chicken pieces she had brought out with her. The strong smell reminded her of the sharp stinging scent from Ban-Ban’s pickled vegetables. 

“It looks like tomato sauce.” She giggled happily, obviously unaware of the devilish spice that she had mistakenly thought of as a more mild and comforting tomato sauce. Without hesitation, she took a bite of the chicken, fully expecting the sweet and sour tang of tomato to fill her mouth with the tender texture of chicken. 

Oh how wrong she was. 

The fire burned her tongue, ablaze with a numbness that could only be described as a raging inferno in her mouth. Her sinuses swelled up and her throat was scorched as she struggled to breathe without a searing pain travelling through her lungs and her entire body. She squealed in pain, her emerald orbs glazing over with a hazy look, a glassy glint as tears welled up and spilled over her cheeks, threatening to freeze in the numbing temperatures around her. 

Fingers shaking, her wings began to quake and quiver around her, flapping madly as she held her tongue out in a cry of both pain, regret and a hint of sadness for what she just consumed. Her tail whipped out behind her, slamming against the wooden porch and steps she sat on, throwing up snow in giant clouds of white. The devilish spice that engulfed her senses threatened to knock her out as the edges of her vision started to blink with black spots. She wanted to scream for help, but her tongue was numb and her throat refused to cooperate as she struggled with her sinuses, tears, aching body and her lack of a voice on the porch of the tiny remote house under the concerned eyes of the stars and vast galaxy above. 

“Hhh-Haaallllppp!” She barely managed to squeeze out through her face as red as the tomato she was so looking forward to eating that night.

His working eye scanned the contents of the paper, headache, stomachache, slight numbness of limbs, problems sleeping and so on adding things he would rather not have to experience. He was starting to regret agreeing to aid but, well, he was here already a good action once in a while was good, yes.... very... good. Deen put down the list and sighed as one of the medicines was placed in front of him by a nurse that seemed more worried about the possible extra workload than the fact he could get as sick as the injured people.

But before he took in the first medicine he noticed a pair of green eyes looking at him, they shined with the curiosity of a child—or well, perhaps he thought such because who stood before him looked like a child. She was much shorter than him, what was a kid doing here? "Uhm..." He mumbled and raised his hand towards her to keep a distance. "Little one stay right where you are, if you see something strange... call one of the nurses."

Truly, what was a child doing here????

The little girl held out a grabby hand at the bottle of medicine that Deen was holding. “I want to try the drink as well!” She insisted with a huff, pulling at Deen’s uniform with her other hand. “It smells like Ban-Ban’s pickled vegetables so I want to try some too! Tiki loves pickled vegetables.” She chimed in with an innocent grin. 

A short silence ensues, during which Owain recognizes that he might have went too far. Tiki is still a child--at least, the one is--so he reasons it isn't right to hang the threat of eternal oblivion over her head.

"Er, I mean," he sort of coughs, gaze averting the dragon as he calms down from his clamor, "this will be a training round, so we'll take it easy. I guess you could see it as a game..."

So he shakes off the thought--lets slide the affront to his honed craft that is referring to it as mere child's play. Even sword arts become games if you swing with a light enough arm, aiming not to hurt but amuse.

The blonde parts with the first of his many decks, allowing Tiki to rifle through the fittingly-themed dragons he had compiled together. In theory, it's a pretty good one--but it only goes so far with poor piloting and a tendency to prioritize flashy plays over smart ones.

To match her, he procures his favorite: the infamous Darknesswings. Playing though he may be, Owain is playing to win. His most comfortable army will make short work of someone who has yet to step foot on the fields of justice.

Plus, it'll create a poetic battle of light versus dark.

And then it stopped when she heard the words she needed to hear. 

Calmness soothed over her senses. Her heartbeat slowed to normalcy and she slowly shuffled back towards the table of cards, her once shaking fingers smoothed over the cards on the table. A gentle touch on the varied designs of monsters and creatures and she took in a deep breath. It’s just a game.

“If Professor Dark says it's a game, then I will believe Professor Dark.” She gave him a weak smile, the brightest she could after recovering from the prior ordeal. “I don’t ever want to think about the endless darkness ever again. I would hate for Professor Dark or anyone playing to go through what I did for so long. Everyone deserves to be here to make friends!.” She ran over and hugged Owain as hard as she could, a good squeeze for measure. 

“So promise you won’t send anyone there, Professor Dark” She pleaded and hoped before pulling away, not waiting for his reply as she shuffled through the cards on the table. Bright emerald eyes pouring over the colourful pictures and possibly way too complicated text boxes that could actually rival a light novel in length. 

“I want to see what I like first, Professor Dark! Xane told me once before that I have to like what I do to enjoy it better!” She smiled widely and continued to sift through the cards one by one. The seriousness of the conversation before lost to the rainbow array of pretty pictures on cards, as Tiki split 3 piles away from the heap of cards that Professor Dark had laid out before her. She closed her eyes and sang a song as she pointed between the decks, landing on one and giggling as she held it out for Professor Dark to inspect. 

Typical for a child who had yet to play, let alone touch this game before, the pile she had picked out was a random assortment of monsters and creatures with a few other support spells that just so happened to mention the names of her cards on it. Though one thing was for certain, she had picked out the archetype whose name was quite fitting to what Tiki was. 

Green Eyes, Silver Dragon. A natural light counterpart to match Professor Dark’s DarknessWings.