One deep breath in. One out. Each breath taken deliberately one at a time. Each calming draft brings with it the scents of the surrounding area. Lightly sweet, warm grass tingles at the edge of Terne’s nostrils. From Pteron a musk enhanced from the exertion yet dulled from the breeze of flight. Mary had a lighter scent and yet it held a similarity to Pteron’s. However, what the shared trait was escaped Terne’s ability to identify it.
I was going to…
Before she can finish her sentence Terne realizes that she doesn’t know where she had been about to tell them. Sure, she had been headed directly to the river and then forward from there, but the eventual goal was some place beyond where she had imagined. The boundaries of her planning didn’t extend past arrival at the river.
…the river. I don’t have a home. Maybe this place is?
There is confusion in her creaky tree branch voice. She lifts her head skyward, eyes catching still bright rays of a slowly sinking sun. In the distance a flock startles en masse into the sky. The swarm swerves and swirls with no predetermined choreography. Their movements are shaped organically in real time.
PEAHEN AMONG PEACOCKS