esinakh

The reassuring press of Rak’s solid grey muzzle calmed her quivers—Esi always loved Rak’s muzzle. It was an even, symmetrical, grey (unlike her own, white-marked maw); always so uniformly warm; the whiskers were all the same length. In short, it was safe perfection, so she eagerly accepted his muzzle against her shoulder, letting it settle the panic that roiled in her. “Thank, Rak,” was her whispered, grateful reply.

And then, again, brother-calf granted her request. A shaky smile curved up her small, grey lips and crinkled the white and grey barring on her petite face. And, in her relief and her faith knowledge that Rak was all things right and good in the world, she entirely missed the nervousness in his voice and face. How could he be nervous? Brother-calf was perfect. Brother-calf could do anything.

So, with her trembling abated, her pale pale eyes (still wide and white-rimmed, but calmer now) snapped from Rak’s muzzle to his wings and body, just as he bade her to do. Her focus was absolute, a model student for brother-calf—at least, in this moment. Her own wings unfurled, mimicking how he spread his, the white feathers of her right glimmering with cleanliness she so prized.

A quick, nervous nod of her mottled horns was her response to his instructions that she needed to fly everyday to make her wings as strong as brother’s. Her gaze darted between his well-muscled appendages and her own, wimpy ones. “Esi want fly in clouds with Rak,” she murmured, hope darting through her bleached gaze. She wanted that more than anything in that moment.

But then Rak was talking about running and he was gone, sprinting down the beach. The only thing that stopped her from taking immediately after him was the spray of wet sand behind him. She bleated once, nervously and anxiously, before hesitantly running after him—but then he launches into the sky and she bleats once again in surprise. “Esi try now, fly towards Rak. ”

Her white and grey rimmed ears swivel in uncertainty, before she begins to really start running—though her body is slender from her cautious lifestyle, she still has the strong build of their parents. So, with wings spread and legs pumping (for the moment, she does not notice the wet granules of sand peppering her legs as she is so focused on flying to Rak) she leaps—

—and glides!—

—and sinks. But it is a controlled (barely), wobbly drop back towards the sand. She cries out in surprised excitement, “Rak see?! Esi fly—” her words are cut off by the hard landing on the wet sand. It sprays up to coat her front legs, and for a moment her eyes widen and she begins to tremble, head swiveling to find the safety of brother…

But then the rolling waves and rising tide hits her limbs, and her eyes find the grey face she knows and loves. So, with a soft snort, she whinnies, “Try again!”

more than once to win