The Sun at Sandrock

New to Sandrock

It was a bright sunny day that greeted Iyla to Sandrock. A very intense sort of cheerful sunshine, that would burn you and give you heatstroke if you weren't careful. Just like friendships. Both were necessary, enjoyable and dangerous in high quantities
. But if there was something Iyla was good at, it was being careful. If only she had known more when....

No, she wouldn't go there. This was a new day, a new place, and most importantly, she was fulfilling her calling in life....

Right now though, life was pummeling her. In the form of the "protector" of Sandrock. The self-proclaimed hero, Pen. Or Iyla mused as she braced the shield. A bully, marking his territory. "teaching" her how to defend herself? Yeah right, he was telling her she could never win against him, that he's bigger, stronger, better liked. She had no chance. But Iyla knew something he didn't. A Narcissist wants extremes, they want your reaction, be it happy or sad, angry or depressed. But this kinda guy, he got no high from blank, calm reactions. She just had to get through this charade without him seeing how terrified she really was.

It wasn't how she wanted this day to go, but here she was.

"Try some hits, Skinny Arms, it won't hurt me, I promise."  He sounded so much like. No, nope, not going there. 

Keeping the shield in front of her body, shifting sideways to bat the sword in his general direction.  You're in public, girl, he won't risk anything here.

"It's like you're not even trying, Skinny!"

She wasn't trying, she sure as heck wasn't going to ping on his radar as any type of threat, to him or his vanity.

Firming her footing, Iyla put more force to her swing. Play the Game, you're in public, don't show, in fact, don't FEEL.

He let her strike his side. Met her eyes as the dull blade bounced off, and the light in his eyes shifted. "Okay, you can swing a weapon around. We're all very proud of you." He pushed her away. "Enough. I grow weary of this. And thus concludes the segment of my combat course titled: "Never Mess with Pen." I hope you learned something. I sure had fun teaching it." His teeth glinted in the sun.

Oh Stars and Sky above...

He leapt.

It was cold, it was dark, the hands were hot. Grey light blurred as her throat burned. The rope. Brown with strands of faded yellow. Motion, dragged.

A bird crowed above.

His voice echoing, "It's a simple job, Little Liar, oh, I mean, little Iyla."  He mocked. "Why do you make this hard?".

The bird crowed again, angry, insistent.

What?

The rough hands pulled away, and a warm weight settled on her stomach

"X, Be... gentle."

The weight shifted and cooed; a soft warmth nuzzled under her chin. "Don't worry birdie, make it all better, Mwah" The grey light was dimming, the rope unraveled to worn threads

Things were dark and she was heavy. A cool gentle hand touched her forehead, just like mama's touch.

)()()()()()()()()()(

FANG

It was X who noticed first. He swooped in the clinic landing on his perch, his motion making it swing from its chain. "Bad! Bad, Pen!"

Fang ignored him, intent on counting each drop of oil that fell into the mixture. Ten was too few to be effective, but 20 drops would cause the detoxification to unpleasant, unsustainable and potentially damaging.

"Fight! Fight!" X Squawked. "Teach in Arena, Help you." X mimicked loudly. "Uh oh! Uh oh! Ah oh!!" 

Nine drops, six to go. Fang focused on keeping his hand steady on the bottle, watching the viscous liquid pool into a drop, become heavy and fall with a plop. Ten.

X fluttered his wings to stabilize his perch. "Okay, you can swing a weapon around. We're all very proud of you."

At the twelfth drop Fang glanced at the agitated bird. Pen commonly sparred outside the clinic, why was X bringing it up?

X launched himself into the air, black feathers drifting behind him. he flew through the window and back in a darting circuit. "Enough. I grow weary of this." X cried.

Fourteen drops.

With a swoop X landed on his hand, the bottle falling and spinning off the table. "Help! Bad hurt!" and then X used her voice. "I'll give you something to cry about, boy."

Stunned for a breath, Fang cursed and grabbed his medical bag, tipping over the blue tincture as well. Pen had finally done it, had gone too far.

Outside a small crowd had formed, and Pen was leaning over the prone figure of a woman. Was Pen that bored he was going after tourists now?

"Ah ha." Pen chuckled. "I am that great, but you know, no need to make a big deal out of it." Pen nudged the woman with his boot, and she twitched. She wasn't unconscious as Fang had thought at first glance. She was trembling, her left hand spasming, fingers flexing in a disjointed rhythm. It almost looked like she was...

"Are you even listening, Builder?" Pen asked, annoyed, he reached a cocky hand towards her shirt collar. He wasn't going to try picking her up?! Surely?

X dived in front of the woman, pecking at Pen's hand. "Back! Bad Birdie! Bad birdie!" He hopped onto the women's chest, bobbing menacingly.

Fang hopped the rope, coming closer he could see her eyes, glazed and fluttering. Her body might be there, but her mind was somewhere far worse.

"X, be... gentle."

The bird turned to him, hesitating, before fluttering his wings and looking between Fang and the woman several times. "I know, I know!" X dipped his head under her chin and nuzzled the builder, trilling softly.

Fang kneeled at her side. Was she wounded or was she only triggered by the enforcer?

"What's wrong with her?" Pen asked, his voice carrying with a booming echo. "I didn't hit her THAT hard... although, she is so weak...". His tone dropped thoughtfully as he eyed the fallen woman.

"Dehydration... Not used to... heat."  Fang pulled his shoulders back. Not caring that he lied. Fang leaned over her, blocking Pen from seeing how her eyes darted unseeingly. Her forehead was damp and cold to his touch. He needed to get her out of here.

Filled with a warmth he barely remembered, he stood tall and faced Pen squarely. "I need space... move back."

Pen rocked back a step. "Ah, sure! I need to help Burgess anyway. Duty calls!" He gave a cocky grin and strutted his way out of the ring, his steps sending thudding vibrations through the spongey mats.

He did that, Pen was gone, because of Fang. A new strength twined with the warmth in his chest.

Carefully lifting the woman, he studied her face, delicate features, blonde hair and a small scar just inside her hairline.

She was vulnerable, but she wasn't alone.