As his smothering breath wavers against my cushioned flank, a jolt of unexpected heat fizzles to the surface, irritating the hairs in proximity of his lips. Rims widen fractionally, backtracking without moving until his tawny, mountainous frame comes into view. It took the better part of a month to acclimate into the socially acceptable use of casual gestures, but his (unending) patience has slowly warmed me toward the idea…so much so that I crave that foreign connection from time to time. It became a tug-of-war between shy nerves and the (recent) yearn to practice those signals more often. Even so…my responsive skin can’t help but crawl and throb. Ears slide rearmost, acutely aware. Mini me is leaning his way, receiving the crumb of attention with grace and perfect pose.

Hesitant legs receive the push they need for jutting onward – I take on the unscripted lead and delve into that den of bedrock. Despite the adjacency of purgatory itself…the air, walls and floor are laden with cool moisture; coated with a singular aim…make our trek as precarious as possible. In addition, the blackish shale are ill-placed and easily unseated. Even my careful, light steps usher a fresh upheaval and send prickling stones to vanish into that unforeseen depth. ”Très humide” I hiss between gritting teeth while leaning my narrow weight rearward. These hindquarters become wooden; predisposed to sit back should that rickety pathway lurch me (or the eagle) forward. The full extent of consequences in our descent only begin to cross my mind after we’ve fully committed to this latest adventure...

Our guide, the dim firelight, becomes strangled. Though the centers of my eyes try to adjust, they aren’t predatory and the further we go…the more starved they become. A knotting mix of panic, shame and regret snarl at me while those inky shadows begin to close in around us. Trembling legs continue – steadfast for the moment.

But…

What if he slips…whispers of doubts and fear poke fun at my unreliable prowess. Their tales are whelped from the loins of anxiety. This was a bad…bad idea.

Just as my fears win ground, a shimmering glow illuminates the space ahead. That tempered light is similar to the first one...it pulses and wavers. The cool, stagnate air elevates slightly. Seconds later, that slope tappers off; the uneven floor becomes smooth as our path widens into an archway and dispenses us into a brilliant, flame stoked chamber. "Regarde ça," my awestruck expression lapses sharply. Transparent barriers hold back a river of molten, glowing lava while it cascades down into the stony floor and vanishes harmlessly from sight.

A childish, fascinated beam squelches my anxiety and ushers delight. My head sways left, aiming to peer behind me to share this brilliance with my companion…I find him…awash in fire and gold. Smelted and glowing. The dull heat in my belly is struck; crackling, sparking. His wings aren’t hollows of soft down – no – they have become like the steely cords that entrap him. Forged by wind with gilt and copper. My subconscious is all but panting.

Talk? That tiny, unnamed voice suggests.  

About? What babble would interest this gleaming, brilliant man?  

"N-noah," jaws quiver while I shove those internal conflicts behind bars. Brows scrunch, searching for the ability to express myself, "cave," irises narrow, forcefully pushed aside to study the far off expansion (as if it could distract me,) "good home," never mind that my sentence structure is poor, it was past the point of backing out, "for me,” my subconscious sighs, becoming irrationally anxious with my slowness, "as..."

As...

What was his word?

Concentrating...these lips sound it out, "s-smual child." Though, the cavern of my childhood hadn't been like this...nor had our circumstances been by choice, "I..." his tongue flows easier when I tread in familiarity, "stay only in cave, as child." Our simple bridge isn’t wide enough for me to explain the necessity of a caged existence.  


@Noah