It's not supposed to snow in the South Forest, but the weather in the second-emptiest corner of Shelha is not the only thing behaving strangely. When an ex-tyrant started acting up again, Sethral had hoped it meant the end of lazy days and monotonou...
Consciousness came slowly, but before any other sense, the absence of wind made itself clear. Jay did not fight to get his other senses back. To be honest, he would be okay if they never returned.
The air outside smelled like nighttime. Smell was back, and the input swamped like fog thicker than water.
Out.
Back.
The nest was wrecked. The body he was trapped in felt too heavy, its paws too light, its head unable to even lift from the moss.
He hadn't made the nest with moss...
Out again.
Back.
Finally, he could move. The lightness was everywhere; his head, his paws, his tail. Something dragged him down by the shoulders, a weight too heavy to lift, that clung and would not let go. Jay tried to pull away. It moved, shifting against him. He couldn't roll over. He began to struggle, panic rising as he fought to shake off the clinging weight. It grew rapidly, suddenly moving, suddenly spreading...
A part of it hit the rock and Jay went still. It went still too.
He had felt it. He had felt that rock.
Jay reached out with a too-light paw and braced against a stone. His paws were healed. Managing to press another paw into a divot in the floor, he pulled himself away from the wall. There was fresh bedding beneath him and food nearby. He had run out of food. Realizing he was starving, Jay fell upon the small pile. There was a stream beside him, the reason he had chosen this cave in the first place. The water was a refreshing as the silence had been.
The silence. He couldn't feel the wind.
Or... no. He could feel it, it just didn't claw any more. Didn't shrill, didn't press in on him like it was trying to strangle him. Didn't hurt his shoulders.
Finally feeling strong enough, Jay managed to lift his head and look behind him.
Out again.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The recovery started again at square one. No wind. Smell, touch... it was cold out. So cold.
Something warm slipped under one of the soft new wings and guided him outside to relieve himself. Jay pressed against it for support, suddenly desperate for something, anything, to press against. Phantom pains circled like a hungry Drakon. His body alternated between hot and freezing, and shivered like a leaf. He could feel himself churring.
The warmth stayed. Wet moss pressed to Jay's muzzle, and he accepted the water. The heat melted away.
The lightness wasn't going away, but it never got worse either. Waking again in a patch of sun, Jay experimented with lifting each of his paws. Behind him were two soft, velvety wings. They spread from limbs like a Saggitayria's, but with slender fingers in place of feather blades, and a sturdy membrane between. When folded, they tucked neatly against his shoulders, their tips brushing a quarter of the way down his tail. Moving them made him sick and dizzy, but Jay guessed that was just association. He was thankful he could not remember the last few days.
