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The night air did nothing to help Dax's bid for freedom, he could feel his wing muscles protesting, his cool blood running like sludge through his veins. Knowing time was of the essence, and his departure would be noticed any second now, Dax sucked in as much Vivo as he could manage, and boosted his leaden movements with a burst of Ar that filled his wings and hoisted him along.
Hearing angry cries from the log pile behind him Dax knew the hunt was on. Diving down to the beach below him Dax skimmed over the sand and pebbles, his limbs almost brushing the ground beneath. This low down, Dax hoped he would remain out of sight on the otherwise open expanse he was speeding across, with no hiding place or cover to be found.
Although the cold air continued to hamper his movements, the friction of his own wing muscles helped generate a little internal heat, and after a few minutes of rapid flight he could feel his body warming somewhat, and the aches and pains easing off. The ragged cut on his belly hurt - boy did it hurt - but the pain, if anything, helped stave off the hypnotic effect of the cold on his body as well.
Ahead of him, Dax saw the sandy cliff he had been following petering out, to be replaced by undulating ridges and furrows of sand, topped with spikey Marram Grass. Hoping to hide from any pursuit in the dunes, Dax veered off and attempted to lose himself in the random valleys and ranges.
Exhausted, even with the thaumatic assistance, Dax slowed to a stop near a grass-topped ridge, the night breeze causing the spine of the dune to hum eerily. Peering back along the beach the way he had come he waited, watching for any sign of his former captors.
Barely a minute passed before Dax saw movement down on the beach, his sharp Jraconi eyesight picking out the shadows of four Hawkers moving through the night, spread out across the sand, instinct forcing them low to the ground to avoid the night's predators. Knowing they would beat him in an out-and-out race he figured his best chance was now to lose them in the rolling dunes instead.
Cursing softly to himself, Dax turned and hunkered back down the far slope of the ridge, crawling away from the pursuing Tainted, wincing away the throbbing ache from his injured underbelly.
As he ghosted down the slope, his senses picked up movement to his right. Some distance away, silhouetted against the starlit sky he could make out the misshapen form of the Jraconoid flapping heavily across his path over the dunes.
Hissing words his mother would have been shocked to hear, Dax slowed to a hover, waiting for the creature to pass across his route, painfully aware of the looming presence of the Hawkers behind him, desperate to put distance between him and them.
Eventually the creature disappeared from view towards the beach to his left and Dax continued his creeping progress, following the sandy contours and weaving low through the spiky Marram Grasses, rather than risk being silhouetted against the sky himself, his senses on high alert all the while, Vivo reserves full, whether for flight or fight.