Carson lowered his eyes and shook his shaggy head. His response was reluctant. “Not weak, Sedric. Just . . . not tough. Not in the way that deals with hardship that just goes on and on and on. It doesn’t make you a bad person, just—”
“Weak.” Sedric chose the word for him. He hated that Carson’s comments hurt so badly, hated worse the sting of tears in his eyes. No. He wasn’t going to weep over this. That would only prove him right. He cleared his throat. “I have to go to the fish trap and get something for Relpda. She’s hungry.”
“I know. So is Spit.” Carson shook his head as if tormented by gnats. “I think that’s part of why I’m out of temper today. It’s not you, Sedric. You know that.” He spoke the words almost pleadingly. He shook his head again. “That damn Spit. He knows he can make me feel his hunger. He pushes it at me. It puts me on edge all the time. It makes it hard to think and harder to be patient, even with a simple task.” Carson jerked his head up and met Sedric’s stare. There was determination in his eyes. “But I’m not going to take him food. Not yet. I’ve got to let him be hungry, hungry enough to try to do something about it. He’s a lazy little bastard. He should be trying harder to learn how to fly. But as long as I’m around to feed him every time he gets a hunger pang, he isn’t going to put any real effort into it. I’ve got to let him suffer a bit or he’ll never learn to take care of himself.”
Sedric pondered his words. “Do you think I should do the same with Relpda? Let her be hungry?” Even as he spoke the words aloud, he felt his dragon become aware of the thought.
No! I don’t like to be hungry. Don’t be mean to me!
“I know it seems harsh,” Carson said, almost as if he, too, had shared Relpda’s thought. “But we have to do something, Sedric. It can’t go on this way. Even if I hunted morning until night every day and was successful in every hunt, it wouldn’t be enough to feed them all. All of them are hungry, all the time, some more than others. But there’s a limit to what we keepers can do. The dragons need to make the effort to fly and to feed themselves. And they need to do it now, before it’s too late.”
“Too late?”
Carson looked grim. “Look at them, Sedric. They should be creatures of the air, but they are living like ground animals. They aren’t growing properly. Their wings are weak, and on some they’re simply too small. Rapskal had the right of it. From the time he first took charge of Heeby, he made her try to fly, every day. Look at her some time and compare the lines of her body to those of the other dragons. Look where the muscle is developed and where it’s not.” He shook his head. “Trying to get Spit to exercise his wings is difficult. He’s willful, and he knows full well that he’s bigger and stronger than I am. My only handle on him is food. He knows my rule. He tries to fly. And then I feed him. He has to try every day. And that’s what the other dragons have to do. But I don’t think they will until they’re forced to it.”