Lean, monsoon drenched hindquarters yield into a stumbling rhythm. Though my ears are folded, I can hear the down stroke of garbled voices (chasing me) before the gale consumes them. My grazed knee bemoans every loose bit of gravel; it mourns the wind as the squall threatens to unseat my feathery, skeletal frame. A terrified, unhinged cry rockets forth from the core of my trembling, pounding chest. Wings unhinge, offering their aid via balance as I convince these tired legs to climb upward – clawing in some capacity.

Just get me beyond their embrace my frantic, panic driven heart begs...beyond the perception of confinement and tethering.

Slanted irises tilt my dripping face heavenward just in time to see a hazy outline appear on the ridge…fearfully, my subconscious hisses...reacting negatively toward that unknown shape through the fog of my uncertainty and terror. A shaky, powerful exhale sends goblets of water springing forward as the shrouded creature descends upon me. Unevenly, my hooves sink into the slippery mud, leaving little choice but to cling upon the rocky terrain, leaning…careening with every burst. Lips begin to curl in readiness. There is nowhere to run, so I stand...baiting the darkness with false courage. That blurred shape takes on the likeness of those behind me...realization highlights my misstep...

The harbinger apparition (the perception of it) vanishes.

It wasn't...

Faintly, I wonder if perhaps an explanation was offered; but since nothing had been tailored for me...there was only assumption...and the notable, universal language of simple gestures to pull from. These ears lift fractionally, intrigued…but mostly alarmed with those foreign, unexpected notes. The gale continues to move through our mist, unrelenting as it falls upon the people stuck on their last leg; angered maybe by the insane, beautiful, brazen creature that harnesses a melody despite it.

My knee twinges; whispering the promise of hotter aches should I continue to ignore it. Magic…her voice summons it. Power soothes over me like the downpour of summertime rain; warm and comfortable. Healing fingers take the numb ache from these chilled limbs, they pull the swollen pain from my knee. Taunt, rigid muscles drink greedily – every portion taking their turn. A fraction of my sanity reappears…

Faintly, I recognize that their muffled voices have fallen silent...I couldn’t hear them. Over active imaginations of the worst proportions signal a raw sliver of fear...spurred by the reappearance of concern. Noah...Toulouse. My ears return to their nest; warily, I spare half a glance in reverse as the healing melody dies out.

Good thing too…my glance rearmost comes just in time to see a newcomer (from just a few minutes ago) abandoning their mist, daring to push his luck despite the dangerous hillside. Wings seal shut as I shy left - opposite the healer - aiming to step off his path and clear the way for whatever he intends. As the bay, horned bulldozer moves on, my reinvigorated limbs stretch to follow. More voices…but none of those sharp, loud tones bring clarity. Mini me expresses rising agitation and grinds her teeth; I concentration on climbing as she boils with frustration from a caged vantage. It was comforting for me that his greater strides put a reassuring amount of distance between us, so I didn’t have to.  

Just a few more steps...maybe I would emerge astride the world.