Storm Watch's narrow wings snapped open against her dive, the muscles in her back screaming through the driving rain as she forced them to bear the power of a surging updraft. A wall of debris sailed up through where she had been a moment before, shoved through the air by the crashing of a massive wave upon the rocks below.
Behind her, the rest of the weather team took their own courses; this storm had been one they were meant to control, before it took energy from the ocean currents beyond their reach and spun itself into a tropical fury. She was relieved, for as long as she was able to devote attention to anything other than staying aloft, that nobody had been hurt yet, and she wasn't about to let the recruits under her wing bear the first blows.
Another pegasus swerved past, voice torn away by the wind, and she slowed her flight just long enough to make the hoof gestures that replaced the spoken word when the weather got rough, clear as day from the bright markings on the hooves of her flight suit.
Why did you drop so low? The other mare signed, doing her best to keep her hooves visible. Did something clip you? The signs themselves were not so elegant; a direct translation would be 'you', 'crashed', 'debris', and then a question mark, but the intent was clear.
I thought I saw someone down on the rocks, Storm signaled back, glancing back down at the churning surf to emphasize.
It was probably just someone's jacket or something. We evacuated hours ago, and anyone who stayed knows they have to remain inside until this is over. If her eyes weren't so hidden by the streams of rain down her goggles, Storm would have guessed she was giving her an apologetic look. We can go down once it's cleared to recover anything that got lost.
I'm going to give it another pass, Flurry, Storm signed, her wings already folding into another dive. If the second pegasus tried to reply, Storm was already beyond seeing it, as she banked out above the waves for a second time, eyes desperately searching for any color between the slate-gray rocks and the dark, foreboding sea.
To her surprise, Flurry dropped down beside her - or more accurately, ahead of her, further up and a touch further out to sea. The landing signal's gone up! It's not safe here any more!
A weak, shrill scream broke their building argument, and Storm Watch flipped around in the air, wings pounding hard to fight against the building winds. Now behind them, the hurricane was only building in strength, the freezing rain and unpredictable winds threatening to throw them into the frothing waves so that the incoming wall of water could spit them back out into the rocks.
Storm Watch put the pieces together as she continued to search for the source of the scream. Any foal would be terrified by a hurricane; they wouldn't be able to comprehend a storm not bending to the will of a weather team until their own feathers grew in and they had to tackle their first thunderhead. With the inevitable distraction that came from preparing to wait out the storm, it wasn't unreasonable to expect a stray child may end up outside, and in weather like this, even a few minutes fighting the wind and rain could send a foal out to sea. Storm couldn't help but grit her teeth; much longer, and it would do the same to her.
But, as soon as she was truly preparing to return to the weather team bunker, she spotted the foal, too far out on the rocks to even consider getting back on her own. Flurry might have screamed, out of Storm's line of sight; it might have been her own voice. Whoever it had been, Storm pushed every ounce of energy she had into beating out the storm's strength, getting closer to the foal at a startlingly fast pace for what she was up against, but not fast enough.
Seeing her, the foal - a filly, a unicorn, favoring one leg badly even as she clung to the slick stones - turned to reach out, and as they did so began to slide off of the rock. Storm was sure they were both screaming, now, as the hungry sea surged closer and closer to tearing the filly into the murky depths.
She lost her grip as Storm hit the water further out, and the receding wave brought the child directly into Storm's chest. Her breath was knocked out of her with the impact, and for a few terrifying seconds her mouth and nose were full of water that she was desperately convincing her lungs to not breathe in, and then her hind hooves touched the unsteady silt of the sand and she was able to push back up to the surface.
She barely had enough time to check that the filly was breathing - she was - before the next wave hit, throwing them both under and further from the shore. Storm kicked up again, taking a merciful breath, and saw Flurry doing her best to hover above them, her hooves outstretched.
Neither of them had to say anything. Storm knew she wouldn't be able to fly, and that carrying her dead weight would be difficult for Flurry on a clear, crisp day where they had nothing to worry about. Storm lifted the filly up to Flurry, and she took her, and for the brief moment their hooves touched Storm could almost feel their love for each other holding them together, and then Flurry banked hard to catch one of the last safe drafts up to shore and the ocean swallowed Storm up.
She stared out into the bleary depths of the ocean, her goggles filling with water that she belatedly realized was her own tears.
And to think, Storm thought to herself in the darkness, I was almost about to leave.
And then the muted churning of the waves in her ears lulled her to sleep.
