And just as his legs were about to go numb, Kestrell heard the angelic sound of a voice coming to save him.
“Hold on!” It called out in a determined, youthful tone, prompting Kestrell to jokingly respond that he wasn’t in a hurry. He had all afternoon, apparently.
The makeshift hammock of tangled vines had stopped swaying really hard about an hour ago, making it easy to follow her instructions. Kestrell quieted down and let her work - thanking his lucky stars for the billionth time that he lived in a world full of such capable characters like the one come to rescue him.
If not for horses like Areane, he would’ve been dead long ago.
That led him to thinking about all the wonderful encounters he’d had before; there were so many varieties of magic - both large and small. Was she trying to summon a flame, maybe in an effort to burn the loose vines away? He hoped it was useful magic, whatever it was. While the feminine-sounding hero below him was doing all the hard work, Kestrell never once assumed that she was physically trying to free him.
Sometimes, he wondered if he was the only non-magical stallion left in Beqanna.
“Oh, da-” He never got the word out. What felt like snakes writhing around his limbs and wings were actually the vines, no doubt brought to life by the horse he couldn’t see, and the moment Kestrell reacted to their movement she must’ve given them a tug.
They untangled quickly, dropping the heavy pegasus a few feet closer to the ground.
“Okay ow, for starters.” He twirled, halfway undone from the restraints. Three of his legs were still bound together, but his wings were flapping freely in a frail attempt at straightening himself out.
Kestrell leaned with his head angled toward the jungle floor, and smiled encouragingly at Areane every time she swung into his line of sight.
“But also I’d like to comment on how fantastic…” he spun away, then came back around, “…your timing is. I mean I could’ve lost a limb…”
The spinning was slowing down.
“…I’m also called Kestrell, by the way.” He shook the free hoof at her like a little wave, and tried to stem the pain that was beginning to really just radiate on his bad side. The effort started to make him sweat again.
“What do you think? One more good tug?” He grimaced hopefully.
“Hold on!” It called out in a determined, youthful tone, prompting Kestrell to jokingly respond that he wasn’t in a hurry. He had all afternoon, apparently.
The makeshift hammock of tangled vines had stopped swaying really hard about an hour ago, making it easy to follow her instructions. Kestrell quieted down and let her work - thanking his lucky stars for the billionth time that he lived in a world full of such capable characters like the one come to rescue him.
If not for horses like Areane, he would’ve been dead long ago.
That led him to thinking about all the wonderful encounters he’d had before; there were so many varieties of magic - both large and small. Was she trying to summon a flame, maybe in an effort to burn the loose vines away? He hoped it was useful magic, whatever it was. While the feminine-sounding hero below him was doing all the hard work, Kestrell never once assumed that she was physically trying to free him.
Sometimes, he wondered if he was the only non-magical stallion left in Beqanna.
“Oh, da-” He never got the word out. What felt like snakes writhing around his limbs and wings were actually the vines, no doubt brought to life by the horse he couldn’t see, and the moment Kestrell reacted to their movement she must’ve given them a tug.
They untangled quickly, dropping the heavy pegasus a few feet closer to the ground.
“Okay ow, for starters.” He twirled, halfway undone from the restraints. Three of his legs were still bound together, but his wings were flapping freely in a frail attempt at straightening himself out.
Kestrell leaned with his head angled toward the jungle floor, and smiled encouragingly at Areane every time she swung into his line of sight.
“But also I’d like to comment on how fantastic…” he spun away, then came back around, “…your timing is. I mean I could’ve lost a limb…”
The spinning was slowing down.
“…I’m also called Kestrell, by the way.” He shook the free hoof at her like a little wave, and tried to stem the pain that was beginning to really just radiate on his bad side. The effort started to make him sweat again.
“What do you think? One more good tug?” He grimaced hopefully.
Image ©Karl Martens
@Areane