Gale
this is going to break me clean in two --
this is going to bring me close to you
Gale has lost track of where he is, knowing only that he was flying. He’d fly till his heartbeat returned to normal, he tells himself. When it does, he decides he’ll fly until his wings hurt, and then will fly until his shifted-to-an-osprey wings hurt. The pain keeps his attention, and Gale is grateful. Better than focusing on other things, like what he has just left behind in Hyaline.
A shriek splits the ever-dark air, and Gale’s flight falters. Below something shifts in the darkness, reaching up and toward him. The brindle osprey shrieks, a sharp cry before Gale reverts to his equine shape and begins to trade blows with the Monster below.
This encounter goes even worse than the first, and Gale is exhausted enough that he was bleeding from at least a half a dozen wounds before he remembers to share an unaltered image of the sun with what passes for the monster’s eyes. The thing vanishes, and the headache crawls from behind his left ears to pound directly behind both eyes. Gale remains quite still, and the bloody wounds from the monster’s knife-like claws knit back together at a magically aided pace. They do not heal entirely, and instead look many weeks old, and still feel quite tender as Gale slowly rolls his neck and stretches.
He did not want to spend time in the Forest, but it seems now he has no choice. Best to find a bit of brush to rest within, and he’s just found a suitable looking stand of low growth when the unmistakable sensation of being watched settles along his spine.
Gale says nothing, instead casting about until he finds the watcher. Seeing what the boy sees, Gale turns his head directly toward where the colt (though he’s no idea the identity of the stranger, only that they are equine) hides in the brush. He says nothing, only watches.
@[munroe]
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