On Wonder Island
Nathan had enhanced his hearing as much as possible, trying not to burn through his almost empty tank already. All he could hear were beating heartbeats, shuffling footsteps, and, in the distance, the tap-tap of running students. He could hear a group of students gathering inside, and was tempted to go back in. He had lost track of the heartbeats below the ground amidst all the panic, and he hadn't been able to find it since. But then, he saw them. Even with his normal vision, he could see the moving orange. There was at least a dozen prison uniforms, brightly lit in the darkness. They were close. Too close.
He wanted to confront them, but he hesitated. Why would prisoners be here, on Wonder Island? What were the chances of them being on the island the same time as a Thomsen High party? Close to none, so either the stars aligned...or it was a test. Euphoria jolted through Nathan. Here was his chance, to finally join a super team. Of course it was a test! It all made so much sense. Well, Nathan was going to pass this test with flying colors.
Absorbing energy from anything he could (lights, students, any heat in the cold air), Nathan started for the group of prisoners. Before leaving the group, he turned to one of his fellow students.
"Start running," he whispered. "It's about to get ugly."
Tracking the orange jumpsuits as they continued their journey, Nathan yelled "Hey! Going somewhere?"
Somewhere in the Canadian Wilderness
Yierneg awoke on the floor of the forest behind his home, covered in dirt and bugs.
"Disgusting!" he exclaimed, trying to wipe off as much as he could. Stamping his hoof and flapping his wings, he shuffled towards the small lake, so small it could be called a pond.
"I must have fallen asleep after the spell," he muttered, wary about drenching himself in the cold water.
Tentatively dipping one hoof in, Yierneg tripped and rolled his way into the pond, screaming and flapping his now useless wings. The cold water was refreshing, yes, but it also rendered him effectively useless. He couldn't fly, and his fur was matted, and he could feel his connection to Thol and magic weakening. Still, swimming was indeed fun for him. He splashed around for a little bit before bathing himself, and attempting to get rid of all the grime he had accumulated in his sleep.
Exiting the lake, Yierneg flapped his wings and grabbed a couple towels from the porch, drying himself and his lower body before delicately dabbing at his wings. That was the worst part about water; it could only be airdried from his wings. The wings, though, did look beautiful in the sun. The humans had created such a large variety of shampoos, and most seemed to work and keeping his hair and wings at their normal glory. The sun shining through his wings and on his silver skin and fur mad ehim appear to be made of gold, in no small part due to his hair and tattoos.
A couple hours later, Yierneg stood inside the cabin of his, repeating the simple illusion spell he knew by heart. He watched in the mirror, amazed, as his form shimmered, his wings fading into the brown wood of the cabin. His back legs too disappeared. His front legs grew shorter, the fur turning to a pale, Caucasian skin. His upper body soon followed, his tattoos fading into his new skin color. The gold of his hair subtly became a human blonde. Standing in front of him in the mirror was now a tall male human.
It was time for him to gather food from the human store grouping, or what they called "shopping mall". The nearest one was twenty miles away, around a half hour by flying. Under the illusion spell, Yierneg appeared to be flying with no wings, which he always enjoyed. It was always hard for him to not drop down, show himself for what he truly was. He always wished he wouldn't have to hide his true self, but he also knew better than to trust his brothers would not hear. The minute he revealed himself the information would be on a path to them.
Nearing his destination, Yierneg landed on an empty road, walking towards the mall. By human standards, it was very, very small. There was never anybody there, save for the occasional drunk man or homeless person. Upon entering the store he wanted, he closed his eyes for a moment, opening them while a talisman around his neck glowed softly. He was gone, to the eyes of the outside world. Quickly rushing to stuff as much food as he could into his coat—the macaronis and cheese were his favorite—he ran, going from aisle to aisle.
He didn't even see the wet floor sign coming. He crashed into it with a loud bang, slipping and falling. He tried grabbing onto the shelves, but he was just pulling food off the racks on his way down. His concentration had been shot. He was in full view of the world, and would just have to try again for food later. Luckily there wasn't enough water on the floor to rid him of his illusion spell, but that had been too close for comfort. He had to promise to himself to work on his magic even more.
