The Core was going through its lighting cycle, slowly growing darker again, paying no heed to the two Töskrs scribbling on bits of clay as fast as they could and letting out excited yelps from time to time. They were doing what no Töskr had ever attempted before, not even Gründ: crafting a pair of Natl wings.

Of course he had tried, but he never really had the opportunity to observe Atzi, and he had gotten it all wrong.

“See, that’s where you went wrong. The wings aren’t just bulgy because of the bones in it, they have that particular shape…”

Haylir was almost done drawing the wings and calculating how much bigger they needed to be. Gründ was going through all the possible materials they had that could reproduce the weight and flexibility. It had taken them all pulse, just to come up with this design, but they were happy and ecstatic: this time, it would work!

The Core was at its darkest when they realized they still hadn’t eaten anything. Gründ went back to his own home and made a list while nibbling on the green berries he had left from the latest hunting. Next pulse he was going with Baruf to hunt once more, and he could use that to gather what he needed.

A smile in his heart, Gründ went to sleep, not even noticing the pain in his nose. He dreamt of flying, higher than the Bocti, of seeing the whole of Druss continent from the skies, of greeting the Core in all its glory. In his dreams, he felt free, drinking in the wonders of Cora from above, rejoicing in the simple beauty of his beloved world.

“Gründ! Get your tail in here, it’s time to go!”

In the blue light of a starting pulse, Gründ gathered his packs and ran outside to meet Baruf, Hira and Krant. Once the four of them were united, the packs checked, the pikes dropped and picked up again, they finally started for the nearby forest.

His job was to gather berries and carry as many as he could, since he was the strongest of this party. He liked the hunts, the gathering, he enjoyed the forest and its rich smells, the blues and greens of trees and grass, the occasional Skrug glimpsed behind leaves of Boctis, and of course, the berries.

Eating one berry for every four he put in his pack, he still managed to keep the pace and gather some of the small fallen branches and big feathers he would need for his new wings. He had brought an extra pack especially for that, and wouldn’t stop until it was filled to the brim.

All in all, the hunt went quite well, with three full bags of berries and a couple of small prey to show for their day’s labor. As the Core began its darkening phase, the four companions returned to the colony, happily chatting and, mostly, teasing Gründ for his still bandaged nose that made him look ridiculous.

“You know, with your bent tail, your patches of missing fur and your short nose, you are starting to look like an entirely different species!” said Krant, punching him lightly in the side.

“The Grunds! Great gatherers, clumsy walkers, always the nose in the air!”

Laughter accompanied them all the way back, and songs greeted them for the hunt had been a successful one. The colony was one of the happiest on the whole of Druss, being well-fed and cared for, with the best healer and the wisest Elder. Life, decided Gründ, could be great, if only I could fly...