More wingbeats churned the air around the lookout tower, showering the thin structure with a heavy wind before the sound of heavy talons thumped onto the solid landing platform.
Alicanto opened one eye lazily as the hunter stalked into the tower behind him, the sound of human chattering accompanying the black dragon.
Alicanto was lying sprawled on the edge of the lookout, his tail, left wing, and left forearm dangling carelessly over the perilous drop. He opened his other eye, feeling a prick of annoyance at the interruption to his nap. But it wasn't anything new. Every time the guards changed position, they came through in a flurry of clumsy wingbeats and booming laughter, usually talking to their human riders or fellow hunters, carelessly, gracelessly. The silver Cloudwing found them all ridiculous, almost childish. But he had been instructed to stay put. Why specifically that one tower, he didn't know, nor did he care. Possibly because his superiors didn't actually care what he was doing, as long as he was somewhere he wouldn't feel inclined to do something rebellious.
Of course, he still had that incentive no matter where he was, if the situation didn't prove itself reckless. It was a feeling he'd had for years but never acted on. What was the point? He was surviving just fine in the Scorpion Den. He would worry about escaping when he felt there was something more to escape from.
The Nightwing's thumping footsteps approached him, and Alicanto braced himself, half expecting the hunter to try to shove him off the ledge. No matter what the Cloudwing said or did, there was one underhanded message the Nightwings were too thick-skulled to catch onto. Alicanto could kill them easily if he wanted to. They had no caution of him, despite the countless hunting missions he'd taken almost completely alone. The humans were aware of what he was capable of. They sent him out on missions all the time to carry out some sort of job the other hunters couldn't handle, and he had yet to hear of a more successful mercenary in the Den still.
"Professor wants to see you," the Nightwing grunted, a vaguely familiar voice. Alicanto didn't care to remember every single Nightwing hunter in the Den, but he could usually tell the difference between the most frequented few. He knew this one was still new to the hunter's creed, and yet, he acted like he was superior to all the others from his platoon and even a few of the older hunters. While it was annoying, his suffocatingly massive pride made him all the more fun to mess with.
Alicanto didn't respond, just stared over the city roofs, watching the activity in the truckyard a short distance away. Most of the activity had died down now, the most interesting thing being the large, dragon transport and the limo that had pulled away roughly an hour before. Now, humans wandered around with petty tasks, and hunters were constantly taking rounds through the Maze's twisting hallways.
The Nightwing growled and paced a little closer.
"The profess-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm not deaf," Alicanto interrupted. This Nightwing always said the perfect things to open room for the Cloudwing's retorts. The silver dragon stood up slowly.
"I know you enjoy listening to the sound of your own voice but," he paused, allowing himself a wide, lazy yawn. "Spare the rest of us, why don't you."
He didn't wait for the hunter to respond, leaning over the ledge with his wings half opened and dove over the side of the tower. He slowly pulled up, unfurling his metallic wings all the way and soaring quickly over the scattered rooftops, almost close enough to touch them.
The space opened up over the truckyard, allowing room for him to beat his wings, and he quickly rose into the air, angling his feathered wings slightly to turn in the direction of the research facilities.
(So
@_-Captain BRM-_ , are Alicanto and Gen going to work together or are the different organizations sending them out separately and they kinda have to compete for the hunt)
