HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON'T;

Oh, my tongue's the only muscle in my body that works harder than my heart He stood in a forest, but he already knew that. Nothing but trees, trees and shadows, and the strange gleam of eyes from the dark. A prickling feeling crawled up along his spine, a gathering unease. He smelled... something. Something beneath the damp. He had noticed it before, but now it drew his attention. He had an impression of big and an impression of dangerous before the pinpoints of light in the distance seemed to grow, brighter and brighter until there was nothing else, nothing left but sharp white light searing the backs of his eyes. With a cry, he shuffled back. Tripped. His rump hit the ground hard. And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the light dispersed. Korri sat blinking away the dancing spots in his vision, and the trees slowly came back into focus. No different than before. Except... the sensation of a presence watching him no longer weighed upon his mind. He had the distinct impression of having been judged, looked over and picked clean of.... Wait. In one rough movement, he vaulted upward again, grunting with the effort. Back on his feet, he paused. Cocked an eye at the bedraggled state of his body. His naked body. The armor — the shape the armor took while collapsed — was gone. Plainly and totally gone, as if it had never existed. His eyes narrowed down for a moment as he tried to remember if it had been with him before he fell. Yes? Certainly yes; where else would it have gone? Unease snaked its way through him like a poison as he transferred his gaze once more to the unwelcoming forest. Had the light...? Somewhere nearby, a noise in the brush. Something big. Korri glanced that way and shifted uneasily away from it. At the same time, he reached without thinking for the part of his mind which had never been totally his own. "Auga," he called softly, wanting the advantage of her wings. But between one breath and the next, between one stuttering heart beat and the next — she was gone. Gone like everything else. "AUGA!" he called, louder this time. A little frantic. Momentarily forgetting he had just fallen from an unhealthy height, he spun in a circle, wings flaring, searching the darkness for his bird. "AUGA?!" But she didn't answer. No hoarse sound of her voice. No flapping of wings. A sudden, awful hollow opening up inside of him: Not her not her not her. He could lose anything else, but not her.... Halfway through spinning around again, he caught sight of something — someone — staring at him. His head jerked up; his hooves tangled with each other and he stumbled again, looking a supreme idiot, probably more than half insane. He managed to catch himself this time and stood staring, his thoughts moving too quickly and yet going nowhere at all. She's gone she's gone she's gone. He could feel himself shaking, could feel he might cry if he spoke again, and yet someone was there, someone enormous and strange. Korri's wings flexed. The small movement sent a shuddering ache through his shoulders and he gritted his teeth to keep any further sound from escaping. He took a small, wary step back. Oh, the stranger was big, bigger than anyone he'd seen in his life. Big, and something sharp protruded from their brow. The voice, though — the voice he both heard and didn't hear, seeing only her and yet seeing nothing at all — was soft. Gentle. He ought to say something. He knew this, and yet he had momentarily forgotten everything he might possibly say. Auga, he thought distractedly. Reaching for her was like falling over a missing stair. He swallowed. Opened his mouth. Felt his voice about to break the minute he went to pull it out of his throat, and looked pointedly away. "Well," he said, attempting lightness and achieving an insane, shivering sort of giddy. "I seem to have misplaced my bird."

unsplash