Thick Thighs & High Tides | P4: The Mist That Doesn't Exist
As sexual tensions arise between Gael's permanently erect cock and Amara's relentless horniness, the two must face a mysterious cloud forest, an old enemy, and a new foe. Which will be more devastating?
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Part 4
The Mist That Doesn’t Exist
It started when I told him I was scared. As the fallen leaves grew damp, and the bug-covered ground grew warm and squishy, a thick, milky fog was forming—one that seemed to live as though it, too, was an animal. We felt the forest lose its grip on reality. All things that looked natural, weren’t. Twists of blue moss curled up the half-alive trees. Flowers bloomed with brown petals. Fungi strangled the roots and smelled like rotten rainwater while unthinkable things kept emerging from the thick fog. And somewhere over the hills, there was a strange, low hum, like the gut of a hungry giant, that shook us so hard it felt as though our skeletons were deforming. And it was only growing louder. More threatening.
It left me vigilant and scared, clutching the spear. By my side, the Windborn marched with me, his brown, winged, naked body gone pale. His eyes traced the sky for anything in the aether, right arm still weak, feathers wet, and a second spear between his legs, which hammered up and down with each step. So much made us feel vulnerable, but his blush said he’d never felt exposed like this.
Neither had I. The lake’s water continued to reward and humiliate me. My tits were two bouncing targets on my body with how heavy and full they’d grown. The Breezes also kept my nipples hard. Walking itself had become stimulating with the Breezes on my labia—I didn't even think it was possible, but it was torture! A slow rising pleasure followed me everywhere. There was this constant threat of either readying my spear to fight, or jamming its butt into the ground to buckle down and orgasm.
This is how it was, now. I had to walk around naked in the forest as if Gael’s tongue was stuck to my pussy, guiding me further in. All the while, his huge cock waved freely in front of me, balls swaying. Breezes, I wanted it in me so badly. His erection hadn’t gone down since morning—he could’ve pinned me right then and there and I wouldn’t have complained. It’s hard not to be embarrassed with how horny I was.
I think he’d fucked me everywhere, by now (all except my ass), but last night showed us a hole even deeper. I don’t talk much about the sex in between moments, but it was clearly worse. My pelvis on fire, the branch-high conversation—tchu-tchu-tchu-tchu—while he held my thighs, then pulled out and slammed my titties around his bursting cock. Back down for another dive.
When I became exhausted, I told him my pussy was off limits. He obliged and laid beside me, still erect. The next moment I woke, we only exchanged a few words before his thumbs were pressing my breasts, begging for another ride.
No matter how many times he went at me, it was never enough. Breezes, it was so exhausting!
Whenever we have sex, it’s for love. It’s the satisfaction in our faces guiding the course. I thought maybe for once I could let my feeling of inadequacy aside. I was proven wrong as sunlight woke me up to him jerking off. Hey. Time to go. I got up, naked, drenched in semen, and got a three-fingered smack on my ass. I berated him for it. He said he didn’t know what came over him. That definitely shut him up.
I can’t say I know my side, either. The strangeness of relying so heavily on his penis and then watching it bounce around in your face like it’s nothing. And I couldn’t have it. Needless to say, it wasn’t a normal day.
The fog only thickened. We could hardly see more than a few stump-lengths. He wasn’t taking this seriously, I thought, and I wasn’t about to trudge in with that problem. He was, though. He strode as though he didn’t notice. An animal would hiss and he’d caw back stronger, knowing well who could hide better. I nudged him to fall back.
“But…” Gael turned back in fear. I pointed at his crotch and told him we needed to take care of that, first. He was eager, at least.
Two thumbs opened my labia as I lay on all fours. He’d spent a good while mazing his tongue around it, getting me more than ready. I was surprised. The soft tip of his dick rubbed against it, up, down. It used to drive me crazy, but truthfully, I couldn’t wait for this to be done. I faked an orgasm which gave the signal to slide it in.
He pounded hard—I think a tree’s worth of leaves fell from animals fleeing. He gave me a description of me getting railed like this in front of a crowd, which helped a lot, actually, though Gael was no poet. At least when Oanta comes…well, we could get used to that.
At the climax, his dick popped out and blew its load into the soil. Still erect…okay. We changed positions; missionary on the ground; my leg up against a tree; standing; teasing, thighfucking, riding on top, tittyfucking and—guess what?—I still suck at footjobs. He pulled out four times and it was still up—I only came once. So much sex….
It hit a breaking point while he was fucking my pussy from behind. Clutching my hips, his grunts were wild and crazy. But suddenly it stopped when Gael stormed away, growled hard–RRRRRGH!–and sulked, his fist stuck against an old tree, a look that instantly knocked me out of afterglow.
“That’s really immature,” I said.
“I know. I just don’t want to go in like this.”
“We might not have a choice. The longer we wait, the more risky it gets.”
He pondered that. “You’re right. Let’s just catch our breaths.
After a while he said, “Hey. You still mean the world to me. I don’t mean to treat you like this. I—”
“No, it’s just—”
“Amara. I love you.”
“I know. I love you, too, but we have to put priorities first. We can go a while without sex, right?”
Right? It wouldn’t be hard. I didn’t know how he could fuck me through the scars, anyway.
My pussy was still on fire when we re-entered. Some moments around him felt safer than others. The dangers grew, and he rose to the test. Suddenly I’m just an avin with a spear.
He hates it when I worry. As the mist thickened, Gael clutched my hand. The canopy was gone, and the trees were hissing. We’d walk into the slightest open space and hear low, impending croaks before an animal pounced into our battle stances. I did it one too many times. He just stopped and looked at me, jaw open for who knows how long.
“We have to get used to this.” His voice was cold and blunt.
He handed me the spear and marched out in front, claws out and wings forward to the green abyss. I told him it wouldn’t help. He didn’t answer. Thank goodness.
Nowhere was safe. Often there popped out silver dots in the fog—could be a bug or a beast. Thrashing his arms, he sent blasts of wind at every dot, though I could see in his reckless form that they were just targets for his rage. It was good for anything with teeth, or took more than one gust to give in. Not everyone was that lucky. Clouds of butterflies were left squeaking and dissipating as Gael cursed and stomped his foot. It surprised me how he’s still thinking of its nature, despite it being so terrifying. He was connected, in a way.
It was only after a good while staring at his man-butt jiggling down the corridor when I realized he must be aware of the fragility of life itself. He’d been saying all along to keep a close eye out. Sometimes men are so strong I forget they also have sensitive bits. It made me wonder about other things. Such as, how do men fight with full erections? Do they have to fight off the idea that it, too, was a weapon? Is there something deep down they have to suppress in order to ignore it? I asked him, but all he did was sigh and refuse to look at me for several thousand paces. Maybe it wasn’t the time.
We passed between two trees to avoid a swampy, misty ruin that we had no chance of wading through. It took us to an endless barrage of plumage that boxed us in and parlayed with us with their long limbs. If I wasn’t looking, it would close another inch.
Hanging leaves like vulpine tails hung everywhere, their plump shafts hanging at impossible lengths from their bases. At times, they clustered through the only path forward, lined thick with bubbling fluid and twelve-legged insects. It took a lot of hard thinking, but we found a strategy for getting around this. To check for bugs, Gael fired some medium-paced wind at its base to knock out the bugs, which he’d stomped out instantly. When it was dry, I hacked them off with my spear, making sure to hit the stems. Most of this, we did in silence. Except for one moment where Gael couldn’t shake a single leaf until he realized it was an actual tail. When it moved and flashed its three rows of teeth, he screamed out loud, jumped into my arms and stayed still as we both screamed our heads off, until our screams made it slither off. We don’t talk about that, anymore.
We’d hacked through dozens of leaves and were covered in sweat. I saw Gael’s abs balloon as he threw his hands so hard to his knees that his long penis wagged, still erect. I knew he wanted to rest. Most soldiers looked like this at the end of the day. Still, I wondered if that was rage he felt. Frustration? I offered to play with the head but he scoffed and looked away. His arousal made things so confusing.
The Breezes only became wetter. Moss on the dying bark of trees bled turquoise, as if the choking heat was melting it. Not even sunlight could thrive here. Just weak streaks in a soup of nothing. Insects slithered—not skittered—crawling over one another to sink between the opposite roots. Trees were like thin, weak talons stuck pointing upward, and the terrain was a wrathful ocean frozen in time, squishing beneath our bare feet. It was like huffing a campfire in there, both of us squinting to see beyond an arrow’s reach.
Here was a test of our resolve.
A low, ominous moan over the hills was growing. The one that had been there since we began. Before it felt distant, but now it was all around us. Vines snapped louder than branches, swinging back and forth from the sky. Gael thought it was a giant. It had to be eating fruit from the high canopy, he said before falling silent. Threw wind at more than a few berry leaves: “I missed.” He wanted me to forget what he’d said earlier, about Kreeg archers lying in wait. You could tell in the fear and disgust in his tone as he lived a stone and the disc-shaped insects skittered their six legs in all directions.
Rock formations streaked with pale water through and around its cracks. It was trying to be a waterfall.
It was boiling to the touch. Everything was backwards—all the water you’d expect to drink was poison, and you’d have to rely on the runoff. It annoyed Gael to the point of picking up stones to throw at trees, shaking the water out of them.
“There’s another way,” he urged, tired of the faces he’s making. Then he waded out of bounds, hip-deep in foliage, urging once again that the shape he was seeing was a clue.
He emerged with thorns in his calves and a double handful of shells. They were drop-shaped, and when cut, the inside was red and shiny. They tasted sweet. It was good enough for a break, but far from a meal. Either way, I don’t know what I’d do without him.
“How did you know these were edible?” I asked.
“The plumage,” he said. “The ones around the outer part were green. The closer you got to the center, the redder it was. I picked what I could and left. You can’t trust any of it–everything’s backwards here.”
“Actually,” I said, “I think it’s working just as planned.”
Gael could’ve gotten it earlier. It makes sense to be afraid of what you don’t understand, especially when you’re naked. But the deeper we went, the more I learned that nobody could live here but them. This was our journey, now. In this land, everything was the low and ominous moan—everything but us. We simply weren’t allowed in the choir.
One especially important thing I haven’t mentioned is my pussy. In this land, it didn’t stand a chance. My labia and clit were hypersensitive, and the Breezes were always warm and moist. If I closed my eyes, it’s how I imagined Oanta to be. Yet when I opened them, everything looked phallic.
I stumbled on a rock and stifled a moan. It’s as though the magic inside my pussy sensed the fear I felt and leashed me by the neck. What used to feel smooth and round was now tingling all over my vulva, crashing through my walls. My tits, too, felt as though they were always being played with. I wanted to explain it to Gael, but he wouldn’t understand. Everything was begging me to cum at the most inopportune time—large leaves brushing on my thighs, rain drops sliding between the folds. He shouldn’t have to know what this was like. It’s not his responsibility. Life was warm and deadly with each step.
When I thought someone was nearby, I felt a hot flash pulse through my body and my walls push apart. From this, I gained a sixth sense. Each time it smashed through my veins, I’d turn and launch my spear at a leaping predator right as its claws nicked the side of Gael’s head. His gaping jaw told me all I needed to know.
The way Gael walked implied he’d caught Winds of it and put double his efforts into looking ahead. I thanked him silently but envied him. That constant, warm, fizzling, invisible tongue dragging me completely naked into a groaning aether made me feel like nothing but prey. The only move was to ignore it. I clamped my eyes shut when it got bad. Stay loyal to him.
But it wasn’t enough.
Gael was caught off guard when all at once it burst out in a high pitched moan and a knock-kneed position. I held the spear for balance and dear life, juices spewing out my vagina while he watched on, bewildered.
“Not that I’m complaining,” he said, “but this is the third time you’ve done this since we entered.”
I gasped in all the Winds I could, “It’s the forest’s magic, Gael! You don’t understand how ruthless this pussy is!”
“Yes I do.” He studied me fondly in silence, stony gaze, beak taut, eyelids winced. “It grips.”
“I’m sorry if I’m just slowing down our trek, I—”
“No, actually, I’m jealous, hold on a moment.”
As the words spilled out, he sat down and got to work on his cock. I watched him do it. It was hard not to notice how kind the Winds had been to him. I wondered if it hurt him having a hammer between his legs as he walked. Or if his inflated balls made it harder to sit. I wondered if it made him feel more vulnerable (then again, my boobs were the same way, but I could forget it).
He’d gotten skinnier, too; arms and stomach not as wide, but muscular. Quietly I believed that’s why it all came out. It was a small break from all the chaos. For me, it was the stress—in a way, it could’ve been for him, too. So long as I promised to see it tanned in an Oantan sunset, I could let it go for now.
Anyway, his face focused and he was breathing harder. He hadn’t been at it for long, but he was making progress. Suddenly, he clenched his eyes, and out of nowhere, a white rope shot up. His breathing was stunted as relief cross his face, watching his cum splash against the roots and his body.
“Already?” I said.
It took him forever to say, “Yeah…I’m just…really stressed. Or pent up. I don’t know which.”
What was it, really? I’d say it’s the adrenaline. If he didn’t get it out now, he’d be dealing with it at the worst possible time. He grit his beak and gripped his shaft with his other hand. His digits smoothed over his tip, squeezed, then jerked off again. His next yell was between a squawk and a gasp:
“OH, OH, OHHHH!”
Gasping, thrashing his legs, his hard dick blasted another orgasm as he let out a huge moan. His shots was high, huge and thick, painting his abs, dabbing his red cheeks and jerking fingers, yet he just kept going. It looked like he’d lost control of his body. Cum rolled down his balls. It was enough to make him lay all the way back, still masturbating, still hard as a rock.
“It’s okay, it’s okay!” He was sucking in air like a madman, vigorously gripping his cock as though it was a cannon with a short fuse. “I can keep going. I’m sure by the end of this it’ll go down!”
However, that did not happen. It never would. He was constantly wriggling, changing speeds, his grip switching between his other hand, both hands, wing feathers and even his own feet…but it was never enough. He tried giving himself a break but idly fondling his balls and came directly in his face by accident. It was the most devious thing I’ve ever seen and I still ask him to recreate it.
I had never seen this happen before, and I wasn’t going to let it go to waste. I was amazed, half because of morbid curiosity, and the other to see him pleasure himself to this degree. I started masturbating, myself. Circles around my clit. I imagined all that cum sliding in me.
He let me get closer. I was touching him, now, gently. Anything I could do to comfort him would help. And the amazing show he gave just wouldn’t end. I felt his muscles tense, then flex. I gave him a half-eyed look and gave that shaft a long lick while the inevitable happened.
Amidst an overlook of long, sickly green arms extending out of a harrowing sea, he was shooting rope after rope without pause. And every orgasm still, he became a little more down to Avia. I knew at that moment this was for the best.
It was only after our crotches went numb when we trekked, and by then, it was nighttime. Black, limber shapes in a white soup made up our surroundings. Gael squeezed my hand like it was the last thing he’d ever hold. The only way to navigate was to hold onto a tree and baby-step your way to the next. You’d never know if there was a bug until it was too late. It was scary, but I was just happy to not worry about orgasming.
“Should we set up camp?” Gael stammered.
I didn’t answer. He’d thank me later.
Hidden in the roots dwelled our compass-ferns. Each one was fat with moisture, spoiled by heat. That must’ve been how they thrived. I thought they would be harder to find, but in turn, the exact opposite happened. Aside from that, the wet ground was blooming with wormlike creatures and metallic shells with thousands of legs resting quietly in each crevice.
Rustles. Squelching. Battle stance. A shape was unfolding, four-legged and dense. Some long, curved object protruded from its forehead, glistening. Gael’s instincts took over and fired a pulse, knocking it into the fog. I held it as a javelin, jumped and threw it at him. The long pike went thok in its side as the body folded and died.
I pulled it out and felt ready to vomit. I didn’t know a creature of that size could even have wings. Its fur was an impossible shade of black and white spirals amidst its eight-eyed, salamander’s head, four ugly fangs brown at the roots.
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” I asked.
Still hesitating. His eyes darted between that and the corpse's faint, macabre outline.
“Gael, listen to me,” I begged, “give me a sign you’re okay.”
“Have you heard any legends?!” he returned with sunken-eyed urgency. “Rumors? Anything of the sort.”
I couldn’t possibly answer that.
“There’s something that happened,” Gael urged. “Something I didn’t want to tell you.”
“You can’t tell me now,” I assured him. “It’s too late for that.”
He thought for a while. I thought he’d drop to his knees. “I just didn’t want you to turn around,” he admitted, eyes affixed straight back where we came as though the fog was a mirror. “I didn’t want you to leave!”
“We didn’t, Gael, we got this far for a reason.”
He grabbed my shoulders: “I DIDN’T KNOW THIS COULD HAPPEN!”
A moment after he’d said it, that terrifying, familiar cry sounded from above. Winds flapped and bursted. Fragments of moss rained from unseen tips of the surrounding trees, joining the dew in its descent. Together we searched the skies, but found nothing. Later, a whirling shadow betrayed our eyes before our ears. Gael’s fright turned to furiousness, now shaking with anticipation. Before I could ask, he grabbed my spear with both hands.
“Give me that!” he yanked it away. “I’m going to fix this myself.”
“Gael, you son of a—”
“Shhshh. Shh. She’s predictable. I just need a good hit.”
He tensed and listened to the low howls in the deep. Gael backed up with me behind him, his talons flexed. Only stopping for moments to find the clearest spot between branches and fog with his spear pointed at desolate, white sheets. He’d forgotten something. Space.
My left side burned as I suddenly collapsed, a fury of gnashing teeth and buzzing sounds from the attacking beast’s deep throat. I slashed my claws for anything, even a single hit! By luck they sank into its leg, but it wasn’t enough. Four fangs threatened my neck before Gael impaled it in the chest and blasted it back into the fog.
We made them angry. A half-circle of bug-lion shapes were closing in. I showed them my claws, the drips of acid-blood falling into the quilt of tangles beneath us. Somehow or another, it was the least of our worries.
“Something’s circling overhead,” Gael announced.
“Is that our biggest problem?” I asked.
Pain crossed his guise the more he stared upward. A slither by his ankle startled him. I tried prying a thick root from its base.
“No,” Gael urged. “Don’t make any sudden move.”
But that was a terrible idea. I was stuck bent over, slowly rolling up. His eyes were still to the skies. They were open in a skylight above us, opposite of the impending thicket. Gael’s poise remained strong, even when one leaped at his side, he traded spear arms and fired a sound-breaking wind strike to its face, another one leaping at his shoulder before I sank my claws it its eyes and shucked it off, Gael finishing with a quick stab—in, out. There wasn’t much time to fight. Only to show dominance.
Gael broke his own rule and backed up without a word to the nearby thicket. It was a disgusting, tangled mess of not-trees no less than a talon away from each other. Gael’s left shoulder had blistered in steaming boils, but he didn’t care. Any sign of weakness was death. The broken sky’s shadows blinked in and out, caws and wind gusts becoming stronger. By the threshold of the thicket, we waited.
“She’s getting confused,” he muttered. We waited.
All shadows were closing in. Growls of predators came from them, their clawed paws stepping on mushrooms, exploding them to gooey messes.
And suddenly, they were nothing at all. One of them was struck as fast as Winds prevailed, falling over like a doll. The others whimpered and ran away as fast as they could. Gael didn’t flinch. No contact broken, I slowly moved my hand. Quickly I grasped a winding root sticking out. It was slimy to the touch. I yanked it loose. Its end was an impaling spike, good for one stab, I betted, but not enough for protection.
Gael kept backing up. Soon, we were both in the thicket. Ugly shrieks left behind in the foggy light. Gael held our flank with his spear while I navigated. Was this a cave? A passage? Whatever it was, it suddenly dipped, neither of us expecting it as we both tumbled down a hidden hill.
Roots crashed and snapped under our bodies. We both emptied back into the foggy light, surrounded by a maze of winding tree-tunnels slatted just enough to see there was life beyond it. I thought back to when Gael said he didn’t want to leave. Apparently he got his wish.
We took the left only because some of its roots had collapsed, showing more of what lay beyond it. All was quiet beyond the hissing of bug swarms winding up the roots and congregating before a massive orange beak split through it and barreled for our skulls, a cone of wind right down on us! Gael looked up, scowled, squatted and stabbed his spear, battle crying as the blade plunged into the Mother bird’s collar.
It did nothing. Her blood coiled down the spear, but it’s as though she was trying to push herself further into it. Her flapping wings smacked us both in the heads, until we had to back up and run deeper into a choke point. She then disappeared back to the fog, I grunted, dropping to my knees. I saw the spear still in the hole of light. Outside, she was still a shadow.
I broke for it. Gael called my name. Right as I grabbed it, a flurry of wind rammed me, but my spear was already risen, and it landed straight into her chest. Her massive weight made the spear creak. Something in it snapped. The struggle to keep her away was beyond agony, even as Gael threw wind to keep her occupied.
Either by plight or sheer luck, her gigantic wing smashed and rained wood shards on us, causing her to lose balance. Her blood splashed on my forehead. The spear had come out by its own. She then turned her attention to Gael, her wings covering the walls, and thrashed her scythelike claws at the last Windborn on Avia. Gael was faster, dodging down, left and striking her square in the chest.
No flesh was broken. Her wings arced around, encasing him within. I heard slashes and cries of pain that left me heartbroken. She was hellbent on killing him; frightened, I scrambled to my feet, dashed, yelled and plunged my root in the center of its left wing, over and over again, until it snapped in half. I swung my talons against them, feathers flying, a torso-sized hole growing bigger. I wanted to jump inside. But Gael crashed through and looked terrified, fresh scars all over his chest, shoulders and thighs.
Mother raised its wings. I had to act fast. I ran forward, jumped and slammed my beak into the base of its wing. It shrieked, the wing twisting, beak swiping and plowing above my temple, stumbling me over as blood ran down my brow. Gael blasted some wind at her face to buy enough time to pull me away, spear in hand, jabbing two slits of blood into Mother before she returned to the skies. We then backed against the wall.
“Is it gone?” I huffed.
“What do you think?” he squawked hotly.
I could see why. A scar had reopened and grown, now running from his chest to an inch above his defenseless penis. He was in sheer agony. The trembles to keep himself walking coincided with the way he winced. I realized something. I might be our only hope.
It was easy to stumble when the floor made better stepping stones, coughing up two sources of blood that poured through to something we hadn’t seen: the swamp. Or a lake of some sort. Pea soup-colored, murky and still save for the crimson we added. If we bled to death, we did it together.
We trekked the roots again, slower this time. If we took lighter routes, we risked being attacked, again. The darker routes left us with even less choice. Less visibility. Nowhere to rest unless we wanted to die.
A crack sounded beneath my foot, and suddenly it was through the floor. Gael grabbed me out of it, then bent over and groaned in pain. Poor Gael. I pointed to a thicker yet scarier tangle of roots parting for a valley just big enough for both of us. We didn’t know where it’d take us, but it was less dangerous than this.We had to duck, bend and slip beneath each tangle.
It was a cave, at first. Holding our breaths to fit through one last crevice, the roots plateaued and the pressure was soothed. For now. It opened a bit and turned into a tunnel of roots. This one was larger but too dark to see the rest. We trekked through it, anyway, bugs hissing in the tiny ceiling holes as the ceiling smashed, shattered, an ear-splitting shriek calling with six talons gnashing at our fallen bodies. We began to run–for once, I wanted to cry—knowing how close we were, that this might be the end!
We slammed into something hard and rough. We saw bugs panicking around a wall of rotting bark. Dead end. Gael’s brow furled. He squinted, balled his fists and sharply X’d his arms. A big wave of golden wind made an immovable wall waiver and crack. Then it shifted. He hit it again and again and again, until light showed and a talon-sized hole was there in the settled dust. That same caw sounded, closer this time.
Gael lined his palm on it, backed up and inhaled. Dashing, he jumped, spun and swung his right arm. I shielded my eyes as my feathers shook. All I heard was a crash, pieces of bark flying, and when the dust settled, there was a hole big enough to crawl through.
Whenever we ended up, we were out of the swamp. The ground was nothing but roots, and peering the sickly green fog was like wearing goggles filled with steam. We had no choice but to feel out the ground until we found a wall, which curved upwards and filed to a spike at the top. All while adding red to all the green. We just had to keep going.
It wasn’t enough. Gael kneeled, coughing up a storm. I begged him to get up. As long as Mother was wounded, too., there was a chance to make it out. I ripped off some of my own feathers and matted them with the sticky moss that coated each root, then dabbed it to his long scar. Clutching them, he handed the spear and bowed his head, groaning.
Is he conceding? I thought.
“Don’t falter,” I said, kneeling. “We’ve made it this far, Gael, come on!”
His voice was terrifyingly shrill: “I don’t have the strength to go on.”
“You always have the strength! What you need right now is willpower! Remember what you’re fighting for, Gael! Remember Oanta!”
He looked up, but his eyes were still cold.
The caw sounded once more. Gael concentrated, scowled and threw a sphere above us. For a moment’s time, the fog parted. Above us was the Mother bird flapping her wings slowly. Her cold beak looked at him, still stained with my blood, her eyes filled with death. She was going to fall.
Too much weight, I panicked, shoved Gael aside and lunged. I was barely off. My spear dug into the base of its left wing while Mother’s beak tip set my rib cage on fire. If the spear wasn’t there, it would’ve been a direct hit, and I wouldn’t be standing. Yet it still hurt like nothing before. Blood poured from the open wound. I shrieked and used the last of my strength to kick it off. I collapsed in a tunnel of wind, and quickly realized the spear was still inside her.
She hobbled a bit, wings fluttering, but not much else. I had to have struck a nerve, because she just wasn’t flying. Panic was in her eye. Anger next. She cast a look at me that buried into my wounds and spread salt all over. She was coming, now. Shadows overtook me. If I didn’t do something, soon, it would be death.
Claws out, I called upon the last of my strength and slashed at its bare chest, right at the last moment. I felt her rip and writhe in pain; she deserved it for what she’s done! I flexed my abs and slashed again, feathers flying. I slashed her thrice more before baring all my claws, screaming and plunging them all into her chest! My arms felt like they would snap. The last thing I could do was reach over and grab the spear, as she inevitably backed her ways up.
I collapsed again. Avia was spinning. I could barely even hold myself up. Mother approached once more, feet stomping. I saw her wounds. I figured I had enough energy for one strike. The wounds in her chest were bad enough to break through. That would be my final strike.
I pointed it. I could only fall to my knees. Her figure towered above me, and her neck tilted back. This was it! I rammed myself forward! But she hadn’t gone for a peck. She’d backed up, instead. And before I could react, the orange spike of her beak opened around the spear. It took its center in hold, and jittered.
No.
NO!
SNAP!
My gasp was sharp and pleading. The head of the spear collapse first. Its other end was at my chest. its pieces colliding towards the bottom. I lurched myself backwards, crawling, then stopping. There was no more strength. I covered my body with my arms. It felt cold, all of a sudden. Something black and cold was washing through my flesh. I looked at my wet forearms. The sight of my own blood was tiring.
Her shadow was burying my body, footsteps shaking the ground. She was expressive. She knew she’d won and reveled in it. Her three forms danced in my view. Winds were picking up around her, our feathers cracking with dried blood. Her massive wing, stained and battle-struck, rose to the hazy sky. She wanted to fly higher for this, but couldn’t. So instead, her neck craned back. Just as I saw her do before. This time, I knew it was a peck. And at the moment I thought she’d strike, she hesitated. The Winds were picking up more. She looked to her side, where a new scream was approaching.
A massive column of something smashed into her side and sent her flying. I peered as hard as I could, and my heart was jumpstarted. Gael’s shoulder was in her, enraged, bleeding still but screaming with his attack. She thrashed in midair, confused and afraid, Gael’s eyes lit up like flames, both crashing into a massive tangle of roots.
Gael stood now, undeterred by the scar. Face contorted with rage, his talons sank into her flesh, lifted her over his head, and threw her straight upward. Airborne, he held his wings inward until they glowed yellow, and in one final strike, slammed them outwards with a massive screech: “KYAAAAHHHHH!!” And off into the forest sailed Mother, crashing in the deep, dark swamp without a wing to stand on.
My limbs refused to budge. Gael now approached, hobbling past the debris of our spear, three white orbs, and the pieces of roots. He curled up beside me and held my hand. Darkness overtook us.
Gira was getting cold with the sunset. My arms had never been more tired. A row of torn bags of seeds lay deflated, bleeding corn. One last back hung by a rope, swinging in my face, smiling at me. I huffed in air, my body and leather armor littered with sweat, and looked at its dented, orange body. I hardly noticed that Apana came behind me.
“Keep trying, Nuni,” he said. “You’ll get it right.”
“I don’t need your sympathy.”
“Nuni.”
My stomach dropped and left a gaping hole. “I don’t deserve it, I mean.”
He ignored me. “Concentrate on only the spear. If you lose your temper, you’ve already lost the fight. The trick is not to think.”
Anger raged through my arms. A silent rage. It was the last straw that lunged my arms forth and poffed into the dense meat-shield, its wound teeming with corn. As I watched the waterfall, I stood back and let my fingers loose, stretching, hating the way I’d snapped at him. Inside, there was a wound forming in the shape of a hand on my shoulder. A sunset over Gira looking just like now. Inside it grew, waiting to be sealed, teeming with the corn of impurity. Apana watched it, too. I waited for a compliment.
“You’ll get it right,” he said. “You should get some food soon.”
“The fruit carts have already been pillaged, I’ll bet.”
“That’s not the Nuni I know. Is she in there somewhere? Perhaps, maybe…spreading her wings?”
I couldn’t answer. I’d noticed the trample of footprints and updrafted dirt in the empty grounds. I walked past him, the spear’s butt dragging on the ground, and said, “It’s okay. I’m not hungry.”
He followed me. “You should eat. You need to be ready for the morning. The worst thing you can do is let something upset you.”
“Apana, I’m always upset. Ever since that day in the cave—“
“No one in the Guard knows what happened between us.”
“How is that possible?”
“Easy. I hadn’t told them.” He gave a pleasant smile. ”Does this mean you haven’t talked to them?”
“I can’t bring myself to.”
“It’s a bit ridiculous to mull over saving your own Apana, Nuni. Especially not if it distresses you. What happened, happened. It’s in the past now.”
“Where does that leave me, then?”
“Nowhere. There’s nowhere you need to go except dinner.”
There were so many things I wanted to say. I hated feeling better than him. Outranking him by just a touch. I was thinking about where it’ll leave us when he gets old and somehow the golden spear is left up to me. What would I say if I knew it’d happen tomorrow? What would I ask him?
“Hey, Apana, not to diminish anything I’ve done—how do you know what you’re fighting for is worth it?”
“It will never be for nothing. I’m afraid we’ll always find a reason to fight. No violence, no civilization. Yet we fight so that on the other side, we no longer need to fight anymore. But no violence means peace, and within every peaceful civilization is a tinge of weakness. So peace and civilization can never truly coexist. Even if it does, they both need to be fought for. I don’t think we’ll ever forget this. To me, none of that matters so long as I have something to come home to. Even if I lose all my limbs, my pain is not their responsibility. I have scars I haven’t shown anyone.”
I winced, a bit embarrassed, and it was made worse by realizing I was naked. “I need to be better.”
“Breezes, no. It’s not about being better. It’s about the next step.”
He wanted smoothness but his voice was still intense. I followed him while I covered my crotch and my breasts—thankfully, he never turned around. Inside, the wound was growing. Instead of tension, though, it turned sharp and biting, like a hole burning from one side of my body to the other.
“So can we let this go for now?” Apana asked. “You did a good thing, Nuni.”
“Wait! I need to tell you one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Gael. I’m in love with someone named Gael. He’s a good listener and a great fighter, but there’s something in me that can’t get to him. I should’ve told you in the real world! Do you know what I should do?”
“Everything takes a little patience, I suppose.”
“I’ve been patient. What if it’s not enough?”
“Then you keep being patient.”
I felt like he hadn’t heard me. I didn’t want him to know about the wound. I saw him disappear around the corner before the wound erupted, eyelids heavy and my knees suddenly in agony. My torso hit the floor—
And my head came to, first. The frigid ground next. Wet. Seventy heartbeats before I realized this was real life. A dot of ugly, green light hazed from a tattered curtain, flowing from a Wind I couldn’t taste. I got up and immediately ached, my scalp hitting something hard. Wherever I was, it was about the height of my knees when standing. I could hardly move my right arm, the image of my spear thrusting into Mother playing over and over again in my head with the sound of a branch twisting and shearing accompanying it.
Like my ankles, my hands were tied together. Whoever tied this knot did it out of spite. It was impossibly tight with no regard for prisoners’ safety. No matter: still alive, still naked. The only way out was through. Prying my beak into the soft ground and pushing, I made my way to the one source of light. It was green, ugly and peeking around a tattered curtain. That choking feeling. Outside I saw Gael tied up and half-lucid, arms tied around the back of a tree. He was still naked, and barely keeping his eyes open. The moment he saw me, he grew erect and worried. He was miserable.
A screech to my right had startled me and crunched down just as quickly. An armored soul was holding the fallen spearhead. looking over her shoulder at me. Her form was tall and silhouette-esque, except for the deadpan rage in her eye when her long, orange beak turned down to me.
She looked me dead in the eye. “Don’t intervene. You’re not who I’m after.”
I froze. Gael looked up at the woman and coughed.
“And don’t look at me like that,” she confirmed. “I’m giving you the patience to come to. That’s more than you ever did for us. This will never become a habit.”
Us? Also, did this avin just say his name? I hunched and tried rising, but couldn’t.
“Stop trying to escape,” she growled. “We can’t afford to hurt the prisoners.”
We?
Gael and I were confused for different reasons. A bravado exuded from her—that I’ve seen from first-time Giran Guard commanders. For no reason, she took the center where her spear was planted firmly in the ground. Slowly, she clasped the metal sheet of a helmet hiding her face, closed her eyes, and removed it. Her face was still mostly cloaked in the shadow of her robe, but as Gael looked, his jaw dropped and his tiredness melted to gawking. His mouth made unintelligible half-syllables: “D-Dr-…Dr-...”
She pinched the brass button connecting it around her neck, unsnapped it, and tossed it off. Now we saw her in a yellowish-tan, stout and muscular form, a shining V chestplate and leather chaps. A discomforting nothingness in her guise, staring beyond us to the mist that didn’t exist, the first thing that had seen us exclusively for our vulnerability and could speak our own tongue. No barriers between us, yet they were as clear as my mud-caked beak distorting in the triangle of chestplate peeking out of her robe.
“My name is Draya,” she said. “I am the captain of the Kreeg flying fortress, and right hand of Rugyam. You are both hereby sentenced to permanent captivity the moment our troops arrive at this location. The only reason either of you are alive is due to my orders from the Kreeg. In order to assure swift compliance, you must be kept in your bondage for the remainder of our wait.”
“They won’t find us,” Gael interjected. “Stop saying that. You’re the only member of the Kreeg who has ever even touched this place.”
He sounded so sure of himself. Draya (was that her name?), on the other hand, was anything but. The way she ended that—she wasn’t sure of her own words. Apana said he’d have to practice his speeches thirty times a day to avoid that dip in his tone. We blinked, and a slimy, maggot-mouthed winged creature appeared writhing in her fist, having been caught midair, squealing all the while. It had come from the recesses of the mist.
“Are you sure we’re not alone?” she asked before crushing it in her hand to let its green blood run down her fingers, guise still unbroken.
“If they were here, they would’ve converged. You’re ranked high enough to order that, aren’t you? What do you expect us to do?”
“Nothing substantial,” she assured. Then randomly said, “I apologize for not bringing any clothing. If it were up to me, I would’ve given you your last shred of dignity, but I wasn’t prepared. For jobs like this, you can’t ever be. Especially not for you, Gael. This is the last place I ever expected to see you like this. I was wrong when I said you were a coward. You’re an idiot. You think any ordinary avin’s got something better cut out for you? What’s wrong with you? Rugyam had a home in Xianra planned for you! You had it good, Gael—no, in fact, you had it great! All you had to do was nothing!”
“You’re lying.”
“And now you think I would lie to you?!”
In her tirade, she admitted that she’s the one who left him bleeding in the forest. It was her forces. She launched the attack. She’s the whole reason he almost died! I thrashed to break free and did nothing more than flop. Draya kneeled and gave me a steely gaze that made my stomach turn.
“Back in the yellow forest, I overheard you talking about finding Phyris,” she said. “So that means either way, he left for you, didn’t he? You think you can bear the responsibility of defending a Windborn? You bitch. You don’t deserve to speak. I can’t blame you for finding protection in him, but that ends tonight.”
It’s as though the mist tapped her shoulder. She just turned and walked. Each step, crushing mulch and stifling roots, headed for a specific tree. A tree with a long, handled metal curve leaning on it blade-down. Something was wrong as she came closer. The sword was taller than half her body.
Time slowed. Her gaze was glassy and distant. I could look into her eyes and see the cold, lingering numbness settle in. A thought process written across her face: don’t look her in the eye. Don’t look at her struggle. Gael swiveled his shoulders in the creaking ropes to no avail.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt us!” he yelled.
“It’s too late, now, isn’t it?” Her dejection was palpable.
“Too late for what?”
A hesitation. “Negotiating.”
Her blade was right before my eyes, now.
“Draya,” Gael’s voice softened. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
After her fists shook, her voice was slow, like gasps after emerging from water: “Word spread too fast. They saw you run off into the forest with her. But when Rugyam asked, they only talked about you. I couldn’t tell anybody my point of view. She…” She gulped. “If her presence is confirmed, the only thing the Kreeg will assume is that you were taking her to Phyris. No matter what happens, the legend will become true. And when they figure it out, everyone in the Giran Guard will be slain for keeping it secret. Even if they don’t find it, I can’t imagine what would happen to the forest itself. And you, Gael. Rugyam will fabricate any reason to keep you alive and well. Even if it means locking you up in the darkest depths of Xianra. Either way, Gael, no one is ever going to see you again. Still, though, you’d still be alive. But her?” Her cold blade poked my neck. “Well, I don’t know. Should I give her dignity or not? Maybe you should decide, since you found her, yourself.”
“Draya, stop it.”
“It’s either that, or the Kreeg decides! She deserves it!”
“What about me? I deserve to die, and yet here I am, still going!”
Gael, I tried to mutter.
He went on: “If bloodshed wasn’t a choice, you wouldn’t be listening to me right now, would you? Come on, there has to be a better way.”
Sudden silence. Her blade’s silver edge trembled on my throat until she shook her head. As if frustrated that this helpless, naked man wouldn’t give her the closure she deserved.
“Draya. I can’t talk to you with that blade on her.”
It took time. Patience. But she did it. All I wanted to do was strike back, but I couldn’t win that fight. I think Gael knew it, too; relaxing into the ropes, accepting them as a part of his body. Draya, on the other hand, grew spiteful.
“He cares about more than you think,” she gritted, renewed confidence poured all over. “He cares about an Avia that works. And yes, he cared for you too, Gael. I just wanted you to respect that.”
“It doesn’t make a difference. You can’t just explain to me my own father like this. Did he need my wings for the attack on Gira? Nobody’s going to listen to a Windborn, so diplomacy’s off the list. And Amara, she’s not even ranked high enough to be a trustworthy speaker. What is he going to do, steal her over a birthmark? My father needs to get over himself. The collapse had nothing to do with him or Auren.”
Now she lost her temper: “See? You just admitted you don’t know him. Is the point of a leader for them to be perfectly understood? To take all his dogma as mere opinions on a meaningless canvas? If that was the case, we wouldn’t need leaders. We’d either have total chaos or elected committees that only act when everybody agrees under oath. That may work for peace, but what happens when peace falls apart? Crowds are doomed to rile up when you give them time, after all. Look what happened to Gira! Oanta! The Havardan tribes, and the Nigidesh! Do you think anybody would shut up long enough to fight back when Avia needs it? I doubt it. Someone has to set it in action. If it isn’t us, it’ll surely be someone else!”
“Draya…Breezes, what happened to you?”
“I took control.”
“Then you know what she and I have been through! She was just there because I couldn’t survive in the forest alone. There was no other choice, Draya, please tell me you’re hearing me!”
“That’s Jimpashit.”
“We wouldn’t have made it this far if it was! You have to understand that, Draya!”
“All too well, Gael.”
I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about. She had no knowledge of Giran politics to back this up, and even if she did, she knew Gael couldn’t counter her. Afterwards, she looked him in the eye and reminded him of the Nigidesh’s collapse like that wasn’t a direct diss to her old friend. Oanta’s obviously still standing, and though I didn’t know much about the Havardan tribes (it was probably, you know, the desert), that's one out of four collapses she just lied about. What else has she made up?
And that’s when it occurred to me: she hadn’t dissed him. The only reason it would be is if she hadn’t known him inside and out already. If she really cared, it’s hideous to believe she was trying to get him back—not to her heart, but to the Kreeg, as a concept. There’s a regular avin in her somewhere—I thought it was present, for a bit—but I didn’t care. I had to get out.
Past his bound body was a slope leading down into a thicket. If they could talk about their love for a bit longer, it wouldn’t be so hard. I railed my shoulders forward, hoping to every Breeze in Avia they’d keep talking. Maybe a sharp root would cut the ropes. I swear I saw Gael dart his eye.
“Nobody can survive out here alone,” he said. “Not even you.”
“And what makes you think I’m alone?”
“The empty settlement. You’re malnourished.”
“Fuck you.”
She sounded sure about that. Was she not alone?
“And we can’t survive alone in prison, either,” Gael said. “At this rate, I doubt they’d give us something to wear.”
“Don’t play the pity game.”
“I’m not trying to. You know what the Kreeg could do to her. You hate it, don’t you? Would you ever want to guard a cell like that?”
“Already am.”
It sounded like Gael choked on his own saliva. “Well, it wouldn’t be any better! You said committees are better for peacekeeping. Do they ever protect the prisoners of war? If not, that means my father would be at the helm of it. So how would he react if you told him you want peace? After capturing a Windborn? And a marked avin? I know my father better than you ever will. I’m positive he would immediately realize you’re too good at your job. You’d never be allowed to leave. Which means you won’t be rewarded with the peace you’d ask for. None of us would. That goes for me, too, Draya. Worst of all, it’d do nothing for all the spite he’s gathered. You can follow orders, but nothing you ever do will change his mind, and it certainly won’t get him any closer to peace. Let’s face it, you’ll never get what you want if you let him have his w–”
“Stop talking and show him respect.”
“No. I don’t care to.”
She said, “You don’t understand how much he talks about you.”
“I don’t want to.”
To add to the list, I’ve never seen an armored talon shake in pure rage. Gael was still worse. I could practically hear him screaming it. “My father’s a bastard for what he did. Don’t follow in his footsteps just because you have the chance.” That’s when I got it. He was deflecting the conversation. I was supposed to make the next move. My forearms burned, my shoulders pin-pricked, but I didn’t care. I struggled roughly and bare-boned; this time for him. Halfway towards the exit I was, now, soil nesting in every crack between my feathers. I tried unballing my fists until my fingers were shaking. No claws.
No more silence. I think I’m going to mistranslate this, but she said, “Is it all for Phyris, then? You kept wanting to bring me there. You were trying to run away with me. And I wasted so much time telling you it wouldn’t be enough to stitch Avia back together. I told you over and over and over! I was trying to say you were crazy! Phyris doesn’t exist, and it never will. I’m not stupid enough to hold my tongue anymore. So now that I’ve finally caught up to you, what’s the reason, now? Do you want me to pity you?”
Her careful, floating hand examined his patched-up wounds. “Well, you’re damn right I do.” With solemnity, she attached another long herb across the bloody scar on his stomach. “I’ve seen too much go to shit to expect anything less.”
“Who do you love more, then? Your duties or your avin? We’re not even going to Phyris, we’re trying to leave.”
“You can’t. It’s Avia.”
“Yes we can, Draya. Not every place is worth fighting for.”
I can’t believe I tried to shut him up earlier. This was earnestly getting to her. I could hear her torn grunt slip as she reached for her sword again.
“I need to stop listening to you,” she said.
“No, please, I—”
“No, I need to stop listening to you because you’re going to get us all killed. There’s only one way into this outcrop, and the one way out leads to them. We’re bound to run into them sometime. We can’t hide.”
What the hell does she mean “them”?!
“What do we do?”
“You’re just going to have to get caught. There’s no way they’d sleep over a Windborn’s capture, but they may do so for the red one.”
A pang of guilt swept over Gael’s face. A quarter of space left…
“I think there’s only one way to do this,” Gael spoke with confidence dry as his eyes, now. It was responsibility setting in. He wasn’t panicking, because he couldn’t.
Draya began untying his ropes. I couldn’t hear them discussing their plan. The slope was right there. My shoulders, neck and chest were so tight it’s like I’d been trapped in a closing barrel. Inches from the slope, I barely heard Draya:
“Fair enough. But she stays tied up. Arms behind her back.”
“Okay.”
“She can’t speak, either. Her beak stays shut unless she’s throwing up.”
“That’s a pleasant thought.”
“I’m not a pleasant avin.”
You certainly aren’t.
A loss of balance gave one final jolt down the hill, and I was rolling. Ignoring the pain of root after root, I waited, and at one, the ropes snapped. Something sharp snagged between my ankles for a moment and snapped them apart. Then the rest of it came loose, and my legs tasted freedom. I hobbled to my feet and made a break for the next phase. But just as I lifted a leg, a fist collapsed around my ankle. I fell face up, and all the life drained from my body.
“I see you’ve chosen to be a bad avin,” Draya said. “Fine, then. I’ll have to make some upgrades.”
Draya was no basic liar. She’d been able to dress Gael up with excess Kreeg attire. A temple of bronze plates covered his chest and shoulders, abs visible, and a speckle of gold triangles belting his white loincloth (though if you looked closely, the massive outline of his dick was still clear). A thick metal helmet completely hid his face, for if they knew it was Gael, it’d put a target on both our heads. They’d also have no choice but to transport me as soon as possible, which was bad for everyone. Finally, his wings were tucked away with metal armbands. He mentioned that it wouldn’t take more than a quick look at his arms to see something was off.
“As long as she’s here, they won’t,” was the phrase Draya said that still echoes in my head.
They were talking about the weather. Politics. Ignoring the wad of rope in her hand.
I hate her.
A single rope leashed me from around my neck, down my back, snaking around my boobs, waist and upper thighs. And for good measure, she made sure it went between my pussy and ass cheeks as well…otherwise, I was still completely nude. I’d been kept in tow since we’d left camp. My arms were tied behind my back, making balance incredibly hard. Gael had complimented her knot-tying abilities. How flattering. They got rid of the ankle rope binds only after he convinced her into prioritizing mobility, though she still left a knot of rope around my beak.
Though I knew Gael had to do this in order to make it through. I glared anyway; looking for a second where her composure would falter. Nothing. Whore.
I was shaking. I felt every single bounce my tits made, every hill, every inch of steepness. Every rope creak, every stumble. Have I said the word “rope” enough? Maybe I’ll rope her into this, next. It didn’t matter. None of it would when Gael followed suit.
A shape in the mist was forming from blobs, to mountaintops, to heads. We stopped dead in our tracks.
“There they are,” Gael whispered. “Will they notice the birthmark?”
“No. Not unless it rains.” She dragged one finger across my left tit, studied the tip, put it in her mouth and smacked the tip of her beak. “The sauterberry paste should hold, for now.”
“I don’t know, it seems…excessive. Or, lackingly so.”
“She can’t be trusted.”
Musing, now, scratching the back of his neck, “But do we have to keep her like this? I mean, the Kreeg won’t appreciate a little decency? Maybe we could give her a loincloth or something. Or a leaf? Hey, did you know lily pads make great adhesives?”
“No. She stays naked.” Her index and thumb slowly pinched down the helix of the rope. “Besides, when a spy gets caught, I think it’s fair we all have to see her. What better way to punish one who has to be concealed?”
I couldn’t believe someone like this was parading me nude. That damn rope kept my labia red and wet, to make matters worse. I saw her glance at it. My face and my chest, though—that’s when she’d stop looking. Gael had empathy in his eyes, but Draya would always draw his attention. His voice was dripping with secondhand embarrassment, particularly as he stared at his own cock, still hard for the world to see. It was like a tent was hanging off his pelvis. At least we’re in this together.
The shadows were taking shape, their faces forming eyes. I was black on the inside, red on the out. I wanted to run. I shook to my knees as the footsoldiers emerged and dropped their carts of fruits and supplies. One of them stood out among the rest.
“Good evening, Captain. I see you’ve brought gifts.”
“They aren’t for you, soldier, so know your place.”
“Understood.” He turned to Gael. “Who’s this guy? I haven’t seen him before.”
“That’s confidential information. It was a secret mission. I had no choice but to tag team, and he can’t stay here for long. I don’t even know of his plans.”
That tiny bit of aggravation in her closing words was delicious.
“And who’s the captive?”
All for it to fade away. She stepped aside, my nipples hard as she drew their attention to my nakedness. “We’ve uncovered a Siroonian spy. She wouldn’t squeal which city-state. After she surrendered and begged for mercy, I decided she’s better off serving Rugyam in the airship than fighting on the frontlines.”
“Should we check her?”
“She’s naked for a reason. I trust you will put your war-driven emotions aside and ensure her captivity complies with basic Kreegan rights.”
“Rights? Those aren’t needed for captives like her.”
“I know, but she’s been good, and therefore deserves a more dignified arrest.”
“Very well, then. We’ll escort her away.”
“Hold on,” Gael interjected. He was speaking in a Koumalian accent. “Everyone’s exhausted and low on resources. We should just go back to camp and think this through. Plus, night is falling. We’d never see through the mist.”
“Why not?” the soldier asked. “There’s no holding cells at the camp, so we can’t keep her. Besides, we’ve trekked through worse.”
“I assure you, you haven’t.” He showed his scars. “We should stay at camp for the night and plan accordingly. I’ll help.”
“No you won’t,” a different soldier said.
“Yes he will,” Draya urged. “I’ll take a vote. Do we wait?”
All hands raised but hers.
“Fine. I’ll take her to the camp.” She sneered and looked at me. “You weren’t looking to run away again, were you?”
My heart thudded. I couldn’t hold back the fear. She was actually going to walk me straight into the middle of their settlement. Gael could barely look at what he’d just done. I couldn’t move, but with one tug, I had to.
As I walked by, my body naked and bound, two soldiers exchanged looks. One glanced between my legs. He outstretched his arm and instantly Draya’s armored fist smashed against his cheek, folding him face-first in soil as its wearer sneered in disgust. She dusted her gauntlet and muttered, “Savages,” just loud enough for those who needed to hear. Afterwards she tugged me forward by the ropes above my breasts while the leash dangled by my side. She’s almost moral. I’ll give her that.
They brought the ankle ropes back.
Her gauntlet froze the sweat on my collar as she dragged me naked into the settlement. My heart was thundering. The world didn’t make sense. Two dozen soldiers, I counted, before I squeezed my eyes shut and never opened them. Waves of goosebumps flooded my chest. Why did my nipples have to be so hard? The internal blackness was gone, washed away, leaving behind a body-usurping maelstrom of red.
Avia felt different. The busy settlement, avin by avin, stopped their rackets. Winds curled around my waist and balled in my navel. My legs and everything between them were cold and sensitive to the slightest movement. It was nearly silent, now. I was mortified, my ankles constantly stopping, starting, in tiny steps in soft, chunky soil. Parts of me shivered I didn’t know existed. Draya was exposing more of me than I knew.
I tried curling my tail feathers inward, but it was all for nothing. Every ounce of fat I’d been blessed with worked against me. Before I bared it without thinking—now I burned with shame feeling it ripple. No matter how much I twisted, I could never be ignored. Draya must be enjoying this, wasn’t she?
Beyond my closed eyes, a new mist fell over me. One that blanketed my body with moisture. A dark realization settled in: that it was impossible to know how many avin enjoyed this. How many would Gael have to fight? How many would I? The rough rope tugged and humiliated my vulva as it kept getting wetter around it. Yet that one piece of string was the only coverage I had left. And it turned out, it was only the beginning of my public nakedness.
Once I was stopped, they hoisted my arms up high until I felt a forward pull on my rib cage and locked them around a long, vertical metal pole. They did the same to my ankles, only much tighter and stricter. My cheeks flushed as in one swipe they tore the ropes off my body, in Draya’s words: “to expose her as much as possible.” No irony. A draft swept my slit as I realized my bondage had been promoted to chains, my legs kept just enough apart to make it sting. I was too embarrassed to even think.
Draya was beside me, now. Her pride was palpable. She boomed a long speech to an eerily silent plain. Her voice was loud yet casual, as though it was just another day. She forbade any touching or gawking, but I could feel their eyes all over me. My chest was sensitive and needy. Words failed. The only thing I wanted was for Gael to touch them, instead.
I flared between my legs. Despite all my best efforts, I orgasmed for the whole crowd to see. Had they noticed me drip? I hadn’t moaned, at least. The Breezes were like fingers sifting over my body. Betrayal. And the second-in-command held nothing back, always drawing the attention back to me. A lump was in my throat. Out of morbid curiosity, I dared to crack open my eyes. All I saw was a wall of suited armors—probably thirty, at least—before I shut them and shook twice as hard. Stupid, stupid Amara.
There was no applause after she was done. A thunderous group of footsteps dispersed outward. I hadn’t even been a performance to them. Their chatter still surrounded me, yet I was alone.
They just left me like that. I clenched my teeth and breathed slowly, but nothing could numb the humiliation. Quiet, lewd comments still made their way into my ears—filthy things I should never repeat. Just existing was unbearable. I tilted my hips for a shred of power over my body, but the jangling chains made me motionless again.
I was desperate for a savior—or at the very least, something to wear. Maybe a leaf could blow by and land between my legs. I’d take the chains and the exhibition. Just give me something to wear!
Suddenly, a hand gripped my shoulder. I jumped. It gripped harder.
“Stay calm. It’s going to be okay. You look beautiful.”
That was it. That’s all it took. I had been allowed to feel this. I let those words slowly settle in. The first of many steps. If I could will myself enough to open my eyes, maybe I could rid away the distress and accept what’s happening. I treated the waves of talking as the leaves rustling in the Breezes. Their voices were just sailors looking for fish. Inside, something in me was forged. I was starting to hear myself think again.
I felt graceful and strong. The slight spread of my legs made me feel sexy. My tits weren’t tits, they were massive, heavy milk jugs with my teats pricked at the ready. My two hands gripped the pole behind me as I remembered how it felt dancing in the moonlight.
One step at a time, I could breathe again. I even got myself to laugh, though it was probably insanity. I was back to being okay with my nudity. There was one thing left to do. Somewhere out there was Gael. He needed to know I was making it.
The darkness split in two and showed me the cruel, mundanr reality. A camp swarmed with workers of all kinds. They carried lumber, striking rocks and toting weaponry. The wealthier entered and exited their tents with expressions more serious than death. Somewhere in there was Gael, listening in to their next plans and plotting the next move. I knew it because he was nowhere to be seen.
Their large fire pit was in the center, constructed from stones. It was empty, for now.
And just ten paces away from that circle was me, chained up, embarrassing myself from all angles.
I shut my eyes again. One step at a time.
Hurry, Gael. Please!
“...We’ll be moving our forces onto the battlegrounds around here by mid-afternoon.”
The arm guards made my wings ache. Thank goodness they were off. As Draya mapped out the directions of their travels, I couldn’t help but be impressed. They’d charted a fair amount of the cloud forest and documented it down to the miles. She was passionate, yet casual, drawing her black lines with extreme care. Yet she was a vigorous woman. Even though I wasn’t talked down to, I felt a single mistake could snap a tree’s worth of anvils on my head. She was that serious.
I was surrounded by high classed, armored avin with a raging boner still underneath my loincloth. A couple words she’d used—”rendezvous”, “deterrence”...I’d told her about them. Did she remember? Those days in the hills and by the marketplaces killing time together. A spark in her eye was still there. She’d spotted my loincloth bulge and blushed.
“This is our target,” she tapped the board. “We’ll be deploying there tomorrow. Now…”
She took the quill to my loincloth and drew a circle around the tip of my dick.
“This is our airship,” she said. “Supposing that…”
The sky was a dim turquoise when the commotion slowly died down. My chains were ice. Everyone who betted on me to crack went back to their tents broke and enraged. I was concerned about nighttime, but the Kreeg were surprisingly reserved. Most of them were busier than Girans, yet slower, if that made sense. They also dropped things. A lot. Carts collapsed and spilled, and one time, a full wheel came unscrewed. It barreled exactly through the crowds until it approached me where I snapped my legs shut between them. Chaos ensued. They begged the higherups to get it back, who then begged the lieutenants, who then begged the two generals, who then begged the cook, until finally Draya was the one forced to retrieve it. She had to bend down between my legs in front of everyone and walked away angry and flushed, soldiers everywhere covering their faces.
Being in a constant state of embarrassment had strange, erotic effects on my psyche. Public nudity had turned from casual to devious in a flash with a few ropes. My head was all fuzzy. I had thoughts of them approaching me and doing whatever they wanted but I never meant it. Either the forest or my new life had some sort of charm on me, and it showed.
There were six men gathered around a firepit to tell stories in their underwear while the sun set. I guess this was a Kreeg thing? They seemed to all have the same crazy encounters with fish. Most of it I tuned out until one familiar word.
“...Phyris?”
“Yeah. Phyris. I’ve seen it.”
“Phyris! You’ve seen Phyris! You can’t even see the broad side of my ass!”
“Don’t be like that, Golan. He means the truth.”
“The truth?”
“Yeah. It was dark outside my bunker at night. I was on that suicide mission that got pulled last minute. I heard something from the treetops. Something like this—sssss-k-k-k-k-k, and then came this sudden rush of Wind—ridiculous, could’ve thought it was a twister—and I swear to you, it drove a boulder back three inches. I couldn’t move. It was like sleep paralysis! So I thought, ‘okay, get up, we’re investigating this,’ and walked outside, but when I looked up, it was too dark. I thought it was the canopy, at first. But then I realized—there’s no stars. They were gone!”
“That’s called nighttime, man.”
Another: “Yeah, the canopy covers the stars all the time.”
But he kept pushing: “Listen to me. What I saw was real. I don’t care if you aren’t listening to me. I haven’t even gone to sleep the same way in ages.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You’ll know. Everybody goes through it.”
Was Phyris…not a place?
“The problem is we all do it differently, right?”
An awkward silence ensued.
“How did you know I would say that?”
“I didn’t. What?”
“Nevermind. Anyway—the big fish. What about it?”
(AN: If cheating/adultery is a trigger, you might want to skip to the next dotted line.)
When night had fallen, I was in a rut. The inside of the tent was damp and musky with Draya sitting by the open flap. It was a marvel watching her do her thing. As Draya mapped out the directions of their travels, I couldn’t help but be impressed. They’d charted a fair amount of the cloud forest and documented it down to the miles. She was passionate, yet casual, drawing her black lines with extreme care. Yet she was a vigorous woman. Even though I wasn’t talked down to, I felt a single mistake could snap a tree’s worth of anvils on my head. She was that serious.
But look, I was here to get her asleep, and I didn’t want to get desperate. If the sun rose, I might never see Amara again. Speaking of rising, that was still a problem. My penis had no coverage, and it felt like she was parading us both. Though it never hurt worse than the guilt. I couldn’t imagine what Amara was going through.
That full afternoon with the shifting loincloth publically edging my head would burn forever in my head. At night, I’d given back the chest armor and hung the loincloth up on the wire. The arm guards were gone, too, thank goodness. But somehow I felt less naked in the tent, even though I was literally naked. Still I couldn’t get soft. She was looking out on the edge of her tent with a cup of steaming citrus tea. Draya was never a night avian. It felt wrong.
“Hey,” I said, “what are you doing? We need to rest.”
She had her thousand-yard stare. Time was slowing. When she acknowledged me, it all melted.
“You know I don’t sleep,” she laughed. “Haven’t done so in years. Did she make you drink something out there that made you forget the way I am?”
“Oh, you know. The white berry juice from the depths of Xianra.”
“You went to Xianra?!”
“I’ve been to a lot of places, Draya. And I’ve seen a lot of things. But I can’t say I’ve seen a night like this.”
I sat down next to her, and she noticed my dick immediately. Now she was blushing, chuckling and leaning away.
“I cannot believe you just greeted me like that,” she said. She had on her ‘teasing voice.’
“Sorry. Can’t help it.”
“Oh, stop with the glumness! If it helps, I think I know which males on our squadron like other men…and which females don’t.”
“That helps a bit,” I lied.
“Yeah.”
She stared out into the aether of trees and shadows and muttered, “You get to see anybody else?”
“What?”
“I mean, you met her. The red one.”
“She’s orange. And her name’s Amara. And now that it’s night, can we—”
“You two can’t be entirely alone out there, right?”
“I think you’re being paranoid.”
“Welcome to being a captain. One wrong move and I end up as a yellow-bellied flesh paste beneath Rugyam’s talons. Half my free time is spent memorizing the speeches, and the other half is guano I don’t want to do. But it’s all necessary.”
I felt bad for her. She had the picture right there, but not enough to connect the dots back to me. Her face was fragmented between disgust and confidence. The coldness of the Draya I knew was still the same as when I had met her, even though she’d seen so much pain. I thought of holding her hand, but maybe that was weird with the boner. No matter what happened, I couldn’t let the night go warm. Anyway:
“I’ve never told anyone that,” she said. ”Thanks for listening. I’ve never stayed up like this, either.” She faced me. “Tomorrow, I get to do it all again before Rugyam, himself. I know you don’t like him, but…come on, Gael. It’s safer than this.”
I didn’t want to talk about safety. She’s the only barrier that was keeping me from Amara. Yet even the thought of that made me guilty. She was doing what she’d done since we met—trying to help me. And fix me. And I still needed them both.
“My father,” I sighed, “is a confusing man.“
“I thought you called him a bastard.”
“What? No I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“No, I’d never call my Dad something like that.”
“Nevermind. Forget I said anything. It’s clear you have your issues with him. It’s easy to tell with you. I just didn’t want to prod because it meant a lot to you. But I looked around, and I was surprised about the answers out there. I’ve talked to some avin in the Guardian Relocation Centre, we could work something out if you come back. You may have to do some community service, but—”
“Shhh. Not so loud. It’s not as easy as it sounds; I’d have to fake my persona for the rest of my life. Frankly, I wouldn’t know where you’d go, either. The war has only gotten worse. This might be…” Suddenly I lost my voice.
“...the only night we’ll ever see each other again?” Draya asked.
“Yeah. It might be.”
It hurt me when she sulked. That ache was trying to find a place in her heart to rest. It was almost nostalgic, in a way. This woman always did strange things to me.
“It hurts, Gael, I know we shouldn’t talk about it, but it hurts. Don’t you know it hurts being around you? Please just say it out loud.”
No hesitation, I said, “Yes. It does.”
“What do we do now?”
I didn’t know. Amara would hate me. I was never good at comforting others. Even the carefulness she showed felt unfair. There were tears, now. Mostly from her. I didn’t know how they slipped out.
“I’ve spent so many years just…” Her voice broke as she hunched on my shoulder, sobbing. I’ve never seen her sob. “I have nothing to go back to! I’m just a husk. Every single avin I’ve killed is out there, Gael! Watching me from the forest! And I know that orange bitch will always be standing there watching me, too! It tears me apart!”
“It’s okay.”
Whatever was about to come out of her turned into a closed-eyed squeal, tears streaming down her cheeks. And once I thought I heard her say, “I’m so pathetic.” She was never that, in my eye. I’m not good at cheering other avin up. I’ve been dead since the day I was born, I think. Or at least ever since I left.
The way I remembered Draya was someone who’d always perform herself. Smile when she wanted to. Think like a queen of her own world. The way she talked was like she already had the rest of her life planned out.
It was an afternoon in our teenage years when we were sitting on that stone wall, scotchbutter sticks on our faces. She told me she wanted to live her life hunting, defending and public speaking.
Now, she had all three, and it still wasn’t enough. The problems got bigger, and the darkness got crueler. Both of us saw smoke across the horizon and realized it was our own troops doing their deed. That was when I left her, it seems. And the further we got apart, all this time, the more we understood each other.
That weeping face. The grimace she wore. It was a lie. Just because it was on doesn’t mean she disappeared.
I’d never seen her lower, and she was still…
“--Tough as nails.”
She looked up at me.
“I mean it. You’re the toughest girl I’ve ever met. And you can use my shoulder any time you want.”
Oh, Breezes, Amara would hate me.
Draya looked at me, dreary-eyed and revived.
“What if we both die tomorrow?” she asked.
“It’s okay,” I said. I knew it wasn’t. “Stop asking questions. There are better times for them.”
Eerie silence grew with her face in my shoulder. There was no dread. I knew she’d come around. Sure enough, the longer I waited, her strings tied back together. It started with her lack of huffs, except for the longer ones. Her shivers were fading into the ground. Always, she could cry for one moment and be happy in the next. Her breaths sounded like laughs. The sight of my dick there was ruining something for her.
Now her hand was down my back, giving me shivers of my own. The tips of her claws dragged just away from my spine. They circled around the latimus, right where I’d been thrown in the outer Siroonian forest. The truth is, I’d been scarred there earlier. She made it feel good. And she remembered where it was, through all the shoulders she must’ve ruined, herself.
What I hadn’t predicted were those claws to nick my neck next, crawling to the back of my head. Hazy-eyed and wellness found, she whispered:
“Can I make something up to you?”
My smile was sullen and quiet. “Of course you can, Draya. You can do anything you want.”
Her tongue was around mine, and it wasn’t for fun, but because she meant it. I knew it. I knew she still wanted me like this. It struck through my body like thunder when I realized this woman was back, for real this time, flames balling in my chest like they used to. Deep inside I was growing warm, but I’d throw myself into the Nigidesh before I’d ever let the morning come. The callous of her toe stroked my thigh. She’d remembered.
Amara needed me. Draya needed me. Loves me still. Loves me again and again and again.
This night could only end one way.
Strong winds shuddered the tent flaps. Outside, the firepit sizzled and died.
I said to her, “You know you’ve been lonely, right? So have I. Let’s make this work.”
She touched my abs. I hated how good it felt. My head and cheeks were numb as my dick throbbed with a spurt of my pre. She even remembered how to catch it. The long toe curled and rubbed along the back of my tip. How…how was it possible to experience something that good? The further we wrapped in each other the more the Breezes died, my inhibitions melting with the fear of Amara’s death. The whole of my body fell beneath the cracks. The Breezes had ceased to exist.
Sinking in the deep, her beak in mine; I blinked and I was in bed with her. Her smirk of anticipation. My hips were ramming into her. I was making her writhe, moan, begging me for more without waking the whole camp up.
I was making love with her. Thrusting hard, how she liked it. She wasn’t a moaner, so I knew it was safe to go hard, and the cot would never squeak. A perfect night to everything I could to her. We kissed all while I turned this to a hothouse, her eyes destroying me inside.
I saw the flames in her. She was right. Every avin she killed was there.
She gasped harder and harder, and suddenly she sprayed all over me. I was close, too. I knew to pull out. Her foot came up again to help with the mess I’d left on the floor.
Calm was all over us. I hugged her close. It’s almost time.
Her eyes closed, her body relaxing. Draya was asleep.
I finally caught my breath and took a moment to revel how the agony was over. I’d made it up to her. Almost.
I looked down.
I wasn’t hard.
I grabbed the key from her knapsack. The cool outside air was steps away. One last glance to this shocking, fierce, stoic avin that stepped into my life one day. Once I stepped out, I was killing something dear to me. And it wouldn’t go gently; I’d smash it like a bug. And when I felt the cool air, the panic struck like wildfire, roiling through my flesh until all that was left was one hope.
That Amara wouldn’t hate me more than I hate myself.
My public display exhausted me to the point of sleeping while standing. I looked around. Pale blue-green light shone through the grayish mist. At first, I was sure it was a blindfold. No. This was real. At least, I think it’s real. I don’t think I even heard a creature.
My cold arms wrestled the chains. This was my punishment, now. It takes three broken talons to saw a chain, Apana said. Any time would be useful. Any strategy.
And that’s when they came. Out from the mist emerged the shadows of soldiers. No—it’s almost as if the mist uncovered them.
A horde of sleepwalking, limp-limbed avin stared through their sheeted, metal masks. All naked, muscular from head to toe, their dicks hanging to their shins and beyond.
“Gael?” I tried, but nothing came out.
It was always going to end like this. Their methods of torture and humiliation was like plotting an attack with the enemy right outside. Silent, yet approaching. I admitted it: I was wet the whole time. It felt so wrong, but I couldn’t control it! On and on, they’d been studying me. Every nervous sweat drop on my body. There was nothing I could do. Monsters. The only hope I had was to find a gap in the chains I hadn’t seen and—
_Ravage me. _
As the thought ended, their right knees hinged. When they all took the same step forward, I flinched. The circle had gotten tighter, and my chest was heaving. Suddenly, they stopped, as though my panic had pushed them back. Again, I tried to call out. Nothing. Instead:
I’ve been a bad, bad girl.
My mind had turned the winding key to their legs. On cue, they closed in some more.
Fill me. Punish my pussy.
Woodchips crunched. Soil turned.
Fuck me until I can’t feel my legs!
I couldn’t feel my lungs. Their breath was on me now. Their hands reached in and felt up all around me. I flinched, shivered, and moaned. Whose name had I called? Nothing was sacred to them. Four hands grabbed my tits and squeezed hard. Their mobs of digits fell between my hips and pulled my labia, showing my pinkness. A moment later, I felt two more stab themselves inside. They stirred me and rolled my eyes back. I was accepting this. I was kissing the strangers, giving them their way. Danger had melted, fused to my skin and became the norm.
One made himself seen and grabbed my jaw. The man was tall, yellow-feathered, thin-skulled and twice my girth in muscles. His gaze was fierce and defined with pain beneath that mask. My talons dripped with blood but were completely dry.
The hands that riddled my body were stealing my thoughts. The way their digits claimed my pussy until it was dripping. I’m ready.
His long cock spiked deep inside me as they all watched. Everything else was a blur in motion. I stood skewered and moaned as loud as I could to the sky, but I wasn’t calling for help, nor sending a message. The pain in my belly was ridiculous as it prodded me again and again. But afterwards? Nothing but pleasure.
My thighs were drenched. When I rose my neck and screeched the loudest, the world had faded to black.
All I remember is light, then dark–pitch blackness, the calls of the forest all around me. My chest heaved. I was awake—and alive, but who knows for how long? No sign of anybody to come from me, except for one rhythm: Tch. Tch. Tch. Footsteps. Oh, Breezes, I was hearing footsteps! As my instincts took over by wrangling the chains, a long hand burning to the touch seized my arm before it clamped my beak and shushed me.
“Shhh. It’s okay. It’s just me.”
It’s Gael! The glimmer of the key in his finger melted all the panic away. I wrung my wrists and shook my legs out.
…When I looked down, I realized his boner was gone.
“Let’s go,” he said.
I froze. My arms were limp. He was puzzled.
“Come on, let’s go, we’re gonna get caught!”
My arms. I couldn’t move them. And my legs were nearly on the collapse. I had to find it in me to ignore them both:
“Okay, be quiet. I think someone’s awake in that tent.”
Our quiet dash past the tent would have woken someone if it wasn’t for one incentive. Not freedom. That was always on the table. The waving flag on my pole in the faint moonlight getting smaller was a victory that’d stay with me forever. The moment came when I let myself rest.
My face hadn’t shifted. Gael was pitch black, and so was I. When I tossed aside the fact that by impossible odds, Gael was cured, I could see that we were back together, naked and filled with adrenaline. My cheeks twitched. Everything in my body was screaming for this request.
“Eat me out,” I begged.
“What?”
“Eat me out, now! Please! Please, Gael, eat me out! Please!!”
I was spreading my legs towards him, shaking his head. He obliged pretty quickly. I closed my eyes and, for a moment, he left my thoughts. I humped deep while a tongue searched around me. My pussy clenched like an iron grip, begging for more, and my legs were losing it. It was everything I wanted and better. I thought a little harder and saw the crowd. The lingering clench on my wrists was delicious.
I saw the armored hands. I felt the Winds-touched squeeze on my tits, fingers sliding between my butt cheeks. I was humping him, now, moaning softly, the crickets now hungry jeers. Fuck me…fuck me! Fuck me!
In no time at all, I was squirting. Squirting! I was never a squirter, but I was blowing up, now. A gasp between my legs, and the head was shaking, too, licking my labia all the while. I was left shaking, that tongue prodding my clit, my thighs drenched with juices.
When I collapsed, I could barely see the sky. The indigo outline of my fingers jittered in the clay-speckled dirt.
“How loud was I?” I breathed.
“We’re okay,” a voice replied. It sounded…despondent. I tried not to dwell on it.
“Thank you, by the way. I owe you one for—”
A noise. He must’ve gagged on spit. I couldn’t see his face, no matter how hard I tried. His belly ballooned and flattened with air. The shadowed cock snaking over his thigh slept peacefully.
I admit, before I even thought about sleep, I opened my legs again. Masks were teeming in the triangle holes between trees. I thought so many ugly things I’d never say aloud, and Breezes, it made me wet. I needed those bodies back, my body must be ravaged! After all, one of them had to be Gael. He wouldn’t be beside me, otherwise.
We left soon after. My mouth tasted atrocious, but the red marks on my wrists were finally fading. We walked hand in hand, saying nothing. The Breezes today were amazing. I saw it on him, too—he was crooked, but agreed today was good weather for a nude hike. That and thighs getting battered by his swinging dick meant things were somewhat normal.
His eyes were more alive as he spotted more shapes in the mist. I felt him flinch, though he was still relaxed. He’s realized it, too. The mist was fading.
We had no thoughts of sex. Every step closer to the end was needed.
The mist had finally come to pass. We could hear the sounds of the meadows calling us. Fluttering creatures soared and perched above us. Our hands, now warm and tight, brought romance and relief. The noise over a huge chunk of rock caught our attention, now.
Beyond it was a big cataract, clean water rushing, spewing rainbows and fish. We took our place on a big, flat rock in the center. I was back-down on it, and we were eye-to-eye, kissing each other deeply, the sun’s rays in our skin. The relief of being alive was warmer than the direct sunlight. We tied tongues and let the orgasmic Winds take place in the beauty in that moment until time flashed forward and we were back on the track, hunched over and holding our backs going, “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow ow.”
I was able to regain myself before him. “Hey. I was wondering. How did you solve your penis problem?”
He was slow to respond. “It had to have been the stress.”
”Did you hear anything from Draya?” I asked. My stomach dropped. “Wait, how did you deal with her?”
He blew it off and trudged forward.
I dashed around. “Hey! Why won’t you look at me?”
Gael stood slumped, and puzzled once again. Then his beak curved in a smile with a long sigh and a wave of calm in his eyes. “She went to sleep.”
He was looking past me.
Down in a valley of knee-high grass, the sun peaked its rays overhead. The forest smelled of blood, cum and berries. We could see cattails; marshes existed somewhere. Curling exaltas were popping up like daffodils.
We didn’t trust them, at first—in fact, we argued. They had never been so full and rounded to the weight of a full flower’s bloom. Surely it was poison, instead! Somewhere inside was a camouflaged insect with hidden fangs ready to ruin everything we’ve built up. Gael said this. His gaze was as stiff as a board.
Later he told me, “you seem upset,” as though I hadn’t been chained naked to a pole. I sat down and poured my feelings out to him.
Gently he heard me, let me weep on his shoulder, and we were back to holding hands.
Suddenly, a day had passed. It didn’t phase us. Whatever he discussed with Draya that evening had pushed it all behind him.
We crossed a hill, climbed a ravine and braced the cold of night. Two more nights of suffering, two more nights of ravenous fucking. Something was oddly missing. I think the two of us felt it together. Whatever it was didn’t stop us from giving each other a barrage of well-needed orgasms.
The curling exalta ferns leaned fat with juices. We had to stop having sex; just for now. Every single bit of energy was important to get out of this damn forest.
Most of the time we were in silence, trekking together through the ends. Stuck there in awe. All of it led towards a barrier of bushes. The light cobblestoning its path was the orange crack of sunset hiding just beyond it, yet somehow above. The hedge wall had grown a mind of its own with its height at thirty feet, at least, sprouting little yellow-shelled, drop-shaped berries, or nuts. Gael licked his beak and muttered something that ended with “...knew.” Someone had sealed this off on purpose. I wasn’t thinking about dick anymore. Without talking, we knelt and crawled through a knee-high weaker hole just off the beaten path. The thorns against our backs felt like back scratchers. My hands were shaking. A web of twigs before us was holding something back. Something orange.
I took a deep breath. Parted the bush. Crinkling away to a field that stretched for impossible acres beyond. A sight you’d only see in the Ruinlands, I thought. This was real. The curving trees in the long distance bending, easing.
We sat there shaking. Feeling.
It’s over.