Midas

Let heaven part so you can witness the colors of the sky

Being in authority meant more responsibility, a higher expectancy, and less free time. (A lot less.) These facts where felt most heavily by my son’s, Hototo and Cera. Maybe not so much Hototo; because he had his mom around—Cera on the otherhand was struggling through months of adolescence, and I simply couldn’t stand by him every waking moment. I couldn’t even begin to think of a recent time this season when I had simply put aside a day for their benefit.

My only recollection that appeared most vibrantly close is the evening we spent on the sparkling white beach during the last few weeks of Tallsun. That day had been filled with games of skytag, and seatoss—adults and cherubs had adored every moment. These memories where sometimes the only thing that warmed me on cold midnight patrols--remembering how peaceful everything was in a single moment. How easy it had been to simply soak in joy and surrender to the day.

Daylight had been swallowed by desert storms. The thirsty ground drank in all offerings, and the dusty creatures that occupied it lumbered around with wet fur and wet feathers. I knew that flooding would be a problem in the coming days, so I had been out surveying the damage our thunderstorms had/where in the process of causing.

It was important that none of our member got swept away by a flash flood— to aid in this, many of my soldiers were actually within the herd and not patrolling the boarders. Their job was to protect mares and foals that might get caught in a landslide. Ivory appendages pumped valiantly, the water proof slick was nature’s way of keeping my secondary feathers dry enough for flight to be possible. A light sprinkle could be managed, but not a typhoon. I couldn’t stay adrift in a downpour easily, or for very long.

After assuring that none of our group had ventured off and gotten themselves trapped, or worst killed, I banked for home. Even blinking rapidly couldn’t stop the slight sting of needles sharply piercing my eyelids and blurring my vision until it seemed that everything swam in a sea of liquid. The wind became finicky and long before I had come into the Oasis, my body was forced into a rather rough landing. Red mud squished beneath my golden daggers, and cantering legs kicked more across my undercarriage and all the way back to my thighs. The bend connecting feathers to muscles folded along my barrel, by now even secondary’s where sopping wet—the warmth flesh had collected while flying was instantly cooled when chilled wings closed shut.

I shivered but kept on running through the soft mud, my destination was within sight. Suddenly a shrill call rang through the rain, my ears which had been flattened to keep water from entering the soft holes suddenly perked up. Dripping head angled toward the vocal’s and before the sound had died my steps quickened into an all-out gallop. Water and dirt sloshed behind me. Though it didn’t sound like a danger call, I couldn’t take any chances in weather like this. Someone might be suck in a sinkhole.

She came into sight, I slowed in the downpour. Trails of water gliding down my muscles and mixing with caked mud. A warm fog of moisture crept from flared nostrils and with each inhale chest heaved. My eyes darted to the area between us/and around, “Are you alright Africa?” Pushing down the trail I headed for her side, muzzle extending to greet hers should she allow the gesture. It looked like she had been rummaging around as well.