My glorious black wings stretched into the golden sun's rays, which made the feathers glimmer and shine! My stunning curvy horns stood tall and proud on top of my head! The long claws on the end of my hand were painted with a jet black nail polish. And...
Welp, I'm daydreaming again. It was hard snapping out of a daydream realizing that everything is not real. It's just the opposite.
My black wings were frail and were tinted with white feathers due to how much strain I put on them. They never seem to have any energy these days, no matter how long I rest them. My horns were only little stubs that have never grown. They were cracked and chipped in every place. The two horns have caused me so much pain that sometimes I can't do anything, but grip them tightly and cry. My claws were extremely dirty and my fangs were as dull as ever from cracking open acorns and nuts to eat. In short, I am a mess, well that's going easy on myself.
I never understood why I was always in so much pain and why my body never seemed to grow. I've tried finding some healing herbs to soothe the pain, but it rarely lasts. This pain has been going on for five years. It started when I was eight years old and I've never gotten a break from it since. I'm surprised I haven't killed myself yet.
It was a terrible struggle, but over the years, I've gotten to a point where I can say I've gotten used to it.
At the time, I was living in a huge hollow, fallen tree that has supported me through the rainy season. This season had its advantages and disadvantages. For example, the rain provided me plenty of water and I wasn't overheating in the scorching sun. The disadvantages are, well, I'm wet. All the time.
I dragged my weak body out of the protection of the tree log. It had been two days since I ventured out of my safe place. I learned that the work outside was harsh, especially to those who are weak, small, easy prey. And that, unfortunately is me.
I was blinded by the piercing light that shone into my golden eyes. Of course, my eyes had adjusted to the grey lighting in the fallen log and weren't used to the light of the sun. I covered my eyes with my hand as I crawled out of my hiding spot. From the way the sun was positioned in the sky, I could tell it was a little past the sun's highest peak in the sky and was creeping to the evening.
My stomach growled and begged for food, for it hadn't been fed for two days. I looked around at my surroundings after my eyes adjusted.
I was in a swampy area. The grass around me was tall and moist and the trees were mostly weeping willows. The air smelled moldy and there was barely any free air, which made breathing harder. I spotted a brown water source a little ahead of me. Bubbles popped up at the surface, probably from a creature swimming in the murky water. I had to be careful of animals, I noted.
I stood up on my wobbly legs and began my search for something to eat. I'll eat anything, well, as long as it's edible. Over the years, I've eaten many edible plants, which I've learned which ones are poisonous and which ones are good. I particularly like blackberries, but, again, I'm not picky.
After a bit, I found a gooseberry bush with plenty of the sour little balls. My stomach was practically yelling at me, but I forced myself to eat the berries one at a time so I didn't make myself sick. After all, I wasn't used to large amounts of food.
It took me a long time to devour the first ten berries and I was still feeling sick. I stopped eating. I didn't want to vomit everything I just ate, that would be wasteful. I began eating again, eating one berry per five minutes. I continued the pattern until I was eating a couple berries a minute. I finally stopped myself, wanting to save some of the delicious berries for my emergency food stock, which consists of a couple acorns, some raspberries, ground hemlock, and many hackberries. These gooseberries would be a wonderful edition to the pile.
I ventured back to my temporary home and grabbed my satchel made of deer hide. About a year ago, I found a dead baby deer that had probably starved to death. I managed to use the animal to make a decent satchel using it's fur and hide, and I sewed it with the last strands of thread I found one day. The satchel has been my most precious possession ever since that day. It served me good, holding all my emergency food and supplies I carried from place to place. It didn't look as pretty as it did when I first made it, now it was all worn out and was dirty, but it held well.
I placed the handful of gooseberries in the satchel and then slung it over my shoulder. I've decided that today I will travel to a new home.
I glanced around the swamp. It hadn't been the best place to stay out of all my temporary homes, but it did provide me sturdy shelter and some food.
Then, after I said my quick goodbyes, I stretched my black wings and took off. It was a slow take off, due to my weak wings, but I managed to slowly lift off the ground. These days I couldn't fly higher than the trees, so I slowly glided over the top of the weeping willows. With a full stomach, I felt a little more energized, my usually hurting wings were only a dull ache. But even that small difference felt like a boulder being taken off my shoulders.
I laughed and spun around, but quickly jerked to a stop when a jolt of pain shot through my feathered wings. I let out a cry and dove to the ground as quickly as I could. I tumbled to the solid surface when my feet touched the ground. I gripped my wings as hard as I could without adding to the pain. My whole body throbbed with agony and salty tears rolled down my cheeks. This was by far, the worst pain I've suffered.
I searched around in my bag for a certain herb I had discovered not too long ago. I had never seen it before in any of the places I've been, and trust me, I've been to many places. I had used it when my horns were hurting and the pain had almost instantly vanished.
I pulled out a long, prickled stem that had four blue leaves. The leaves were an ice blue with a tint of a minty color too. The ends of the leaf were sharp and ridged, so sharp that if I ran my finger along it quickly, it would cut through my skin.
I tore off a leaf and stuffed it in my mouth, but not before ripping off the ridged ends. The leaf had a sour taste to it, almost like vomiting and then eating the vomit, which wasn't very good to think about. I managed to swallow the foul tasting herb and when I did, the pain disappeared.
I let out a sigh of relief and slumped to the ground in exhaustion. All that violent shaking had wasted all my precious energy, leaving me feeling hollow and tired.
I closed my eyes, almost drifting off to sleep, but then I realized, where am I?
I glanced around. I had landed in a thick, pine forest that I remember seeing when I looked to the west at the pond. I heard bird chirping and frogs croaking, immediately telling me that I was near some sort of water source. I took in a deep breath of the forest smells. Pine needles, wet leaves, smoke, and...
Wait, smoke?
I jerked up and took a sniff. Yes, definitely smoke.
Then my eyes widen. That wasn't just campfire smoke. That is a forest fire smoke. I've only seen a forest fire from a distance, but I could see how much damage it did before it slowly extinguished. It wiped out almost a full forest, and probably a ton of animals' lives were taken too. This wasn't good. No, this was terrible.
Now, I could see the smoke looking through one of the clearings in the trees. It inched towards the blue sky, polluting it with its creamy grey cloud.
It was close. I had to hurry.
I leapt up and ran away from where the smoke was coming from. My heart felt ready to burst from my chest as I began to hear the sound of fire crackling. How did this fire start? I had only just noticed it, or had it started when I was in pain? Whatever it was, the fire was gaining on me, and fast.
My legs kept moving and I didn't dare spread my wings after that recent suffering. But then, something clicked in my mind. I needed to get to a place near water.
I muttered under my breath. I should have found where that water was that I sensed earlier. Though I kept running. I couldn't focus on the past at the time when my future was at stake.
I glanced around myself, spotting a family of deer galloping not too far away from me. I didn't even need to be close to know that they had that same fear in their eyes as I did. I sent a silent wish that the deer family would stay safe.
I dodged around trees and bushes, and sometimes animals. I began noticing the animals around me. Raccoons, foxes, deer, birds, even some snakes, were all running to the same direction I was running to. That was a good sign. The animals have probably scented or saw a water source nearby, or why would they be running for no reason? So I followed behind a pack of wolves, hoping that they knew where to go, because I sure didn't.
We took a jumble of lefts and rights until we finally, which felt like forever, popped out of the forest and into a clearing with a huge lake in the center.
We were safe, I think, at least.
I dove into some cattails that were growing by the shore of the lake and from there I watched. I watched as the forest crumbled beneath the mighty flames, which had grown twice as large and the smoke was growing darker and darker.
I hope that most of the animals made it out safely. I shivered at the thought of being caged in the flames, knowing that you were going to be burned to death in minutes.
I closed my eyes and willed myself to take in some slow, deep breaths.
1 breath, 2 breaths, 3, 4, 5...
I began to block out all my surroundings and focused on the calming rise and fall of my chest.
9, 10, 11, 12, 13...
My heart rate slowed and my once fuzzy mind, cleared out and I started to think more clearly.
I enjoyed my peace for as long as the flames roared on for, which was maybe a minute or an hour. The only thing that was running through my mind was the number of breaths I had taken.
27, 28, 29...
Before I knew it, those breaths relaxed me enough that I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.