Beautiful oblivion

Well, he was in love with her. That was apparent. It had been a painfully clear to Demaren the moment Ashling had, essentially, forced him to come to a conclusion. He considered it unfair that she had brought him to that point with emotions running high and tears running down her face, but what was done was done. And the conclusion was bound to be the same.
So now he lay on the ground, completely unable to sleep because a small, warm, and extremely cuddly Ashling was nestled into his arms. He was confused, though. So very confused. He'd kissed her. And he had been convinced she would not mind. It almost didn't even occur to him that she might have any qualms about it. So he had jumped in head first. It had been every kind of perfect. He'd kissed his fair share of Syla girls back home, but nothing lit his brain on fire like Ashling's lips. Nothing had sent him spinning off into white oblivion like the warmth behind her. And, of course, nothing had stabbed deeper or more painfully then the slight touch of her hands pushing him away. It had been very light and he had considered pretending not to have felt it. But he'd pulled away out of respect.
Her face was unreadable at that moment. She looked completely shocked, that much had been clear, but her thoughts? Oh, he had no idea what they were. He tried to play it off as a ploy to calm her down, but wasn't sure he was convincing. Still, she didn't seem to hate him.
But, Demaren felt frustrated. She sighed in the crook of his arm, and he held in an exasperated grumble. He wanted to kiss her again. Then. Now. Tomorrow. And his mind wanted him to know it, so sleep wasn't becoming an option.
Yet he did fall asleep. And dreamed of the beautiful oblivion.
In the morning, he awoke blearily. He peered over his feathers at the sun that forced its way into his eyes.
"Damn you." He muttered.
Ashling rustled slightly beside him. Her hands tightened as she sat up slightly. He glanced at her through the corners of his eyes, as nonchalantly as mortally possibly. He silently cursed her lovely face for being irresistible and ever present. And thanked the stars that she existed. It was becoming troublesome in his mind.
"... morning..." She whispered. She cleared her throat daintily, frowning slightly, then smiled pleasantly at Demaren.
"Good morning to you too." He mumbled, making to rise. She sat up fully, leaning against Friend, and he rose quickly.
"We might be able to make it out of the rain forest today." She said from behind him. He was only half listening to the words she said.
What did making it out of the forest mean? Would he escort her to Velt? Of course. What about from there? Could he simply leave? He turned around fully to stare at her.
"And then on to Velt?" He was frowning, and she wouldn't like the face, but he was unhappy and couldn't bring a fake smile to the surface.
"Um, yeah. About that?" She looked unsure, her eyes open wide. She fingered the collar of her very snug vest and he realized that was probably his favorite vest in the world.
He was distracted by the ... fit of the vest, and completely out of the conversation. But found his way to her earnest face, and back to reality.
"About that...? Oh. Yes. What about that?" He turned around again to muster up food.
"After that actually."
He stiffened at her words. Was she going to politely request he stay away from her after that? He wasn't sure if he could even pretend to be fine with that.
"After that, what?" He mumbled.
"Well if you're not okay with the idea then it's completely fine but maybe after I--And the--Home? And maybe after, where you--And I'm not saying this--What if I, after home--" She flustered behind him and he bit his lip to keep from laughing. "I could go with you?" She blurted out.
Demaren had not been expecting that. Nor did he really understand her at all at this point. Go with him? Where? Why? To torment him?! He carefully set the bowls down.
But she had started babbling again.
"Of course if you don't want me to that's completely fine and I'm not sure I'm the best company but I don't think I can stay at home and but I want to stay with you or not at home, so can I or I mean, would you--"
He threw his hands up finally to calm the strange stream of incoherence.
"Why?" He decided to get to the point.
She took a deep breath and rolled her head on her neck. "I don't want to leave you."
Right. Okay. He was confused to no end now. His mind started thinking at light speed.
First she cries because of him, then she doesn't want him to kiss her, then she snuggles up to him, and now she doesn't want to leave him. While the majority of those would put him in the mindset of 'she likes me' he could not overlook the glaringly obvious point where she politely refused him physically. But perhaps he could change her mind over time... She wanted to travel with him after wards?
"Fine." He nodded briskly and turned back to the food.
Her hand was gripping his arm (as well as a small hand could grab a thick forearm, at least) suddenly, so he looked down at her beside him. Her face was serious and set in a focused way.
"It's okay if you don't want me to come."
He frowned again. So, she didn't want to come with him?
"Do you want to come with me or not?" He said, frustratedly.
"Yes, that's why I said so." She rolled her eyes in search for words. "But if you'd rather have me go away... I guess I would."
He tilted his head away from her, cocking an eye brow.
"You know I prefer to have you in sight."
She smiled blissfully at him. "Okay then." And flitted off to manage Friend (who was flustering around, snuffling at trees).
Demaren wanted to pursue this strange conversation, but a rustle in the trees distracted him. His eyes shot up to the branches high above.
A shape jumped from branch to branch, until it was about 15 feet further than Ashling and Friend. Then it stopped and sat to stare at the group. Demaren was thrown completely and partially horrified. Long limbed and lanky, whatever it was gripped the branches with spindly fingers and toes. It's torso was slim and elongated, and continued seamlessly past it's arms to the neck and the head. The eyes were an intense light blue, with no other varying color at all. It blinked at them. Demaren couldn't see a mouth on it. Just black and white, long and lean, and huge unnerving eyes.
He was brought back to reality by Friend's whines and shuffles.
"Friend, what's wrong?" Ashling was tugging at Friend's reigns, trying to calm him down.
"Ashling..." Demaren began, but a shrill shriek from Friend and a burst of rustling from the creature brought him sharply to attention.
The thing in the branches had made fast lunge from it's spot 50 feet above them straight to Ashling. She screamed when she saw it and Demaren felt his body tighten. The beast tackled her to the ground and began smelling her. Demaren felt a foreboding sense of danger he couldn't shake. And, right on target, the thing pulled it's long neck back to survey Ashling. Demaren saw the small circle of fangs on the underside of its head. Tiny and piercing, they looked ready to go to work.
"Ashling!" He made a frenzied dash to save her from whatever was going to happen. But Friend was faster. The thing was tackled full force by the hop. It rolled off, tumbling recklessly towards Demaren, who slid to a stop in surprise. Friend rushed to stand between the monster and Ashling, growling a strange noise Demaren had never heard before. Oriented right ways, the beast looked expressionlessly at Friend. Then it whipped its head at Demaren. Up close, Demaren could see the details on it. Or lack of details, really.
It was a plainly designed beast. It was probably the same size as Friend, or slightly larger. No finger nails--not even claws. Just long, slender fingers at the end of bony arms and legs. It swaggered on all fours, shoulder blades poking sharply up and stretching the black smooth skin of its back. Its underside was white and clean. On the ground, its neck swung low so the small head (like a continuation of the neck and body, so similar was the size) hovered very near to the mossy forest floor. The eyes, as he'd suspected, were the most frightening thing about it. As a blind man's eyes were all white and clearly sightless, these eyes were all blue with no hint of an iris. But Demaren knew it was staring intently at him. It walked slowly at him, awkward limb staggering over the ground. It could have been intoxicated, the way it moved. But, a moment later, Demaren knew it was very in tune with its surroundings.
It leapt quickly and accurately on top of him. It was very strong, he realized, the strange hands pinning him down and grinding him into the soil. It hovered it's creepy mouth above him, inhaling his scent. The circle of teeth rested briefly above his face, revealing how dangerous it really was. The teeth were there, ready and willing, and in the circle of incisors, was a strange suction type of mouth.
"Ah..." Demaren breathed, realizing the way it fed. And a moment later, the mouth moved down to his chest, where it halted instantly. It was only half of a second of paused silence before the head dropped into Demaren's bare chest. Many things happened then. The teeth pierced the skin above his heart. Friend gave a wild shriek again. He cried out briefly. And Ashling screamed.
He wanted to push the beast off and run to her and show her he was alive, but his body was unresponsive to his desire to flee. There must have been a venom or something coating the teeth or in the saliva.
But the worst part came next. He would always remember it as the most unpleasant, painful sort of experience to ever have--the feeling of having blood sucked from your body--from your very heart. He felt his heart beat wildly as it fought for the blood it needed. The nauseating feeling of having the inside of your chest begin to collapse and shrivel. Even the tingling in his face, like the need to sneeze. So strange. So unique. His stomach fell through. His limbs quivered restlessly.
He felt on the very brink of insanity.
And in the foggy outskirts of his fading consciousness, Ashling's screams.
"Demaren!"
Friend's whines of terror and fury.
And lulling shrieks and yells, even further from his hearing.
And everything faded out and was gone into dark absence. Before he fell into the void as well, he suddenly compared it to the white, shining oblivion of Ashling's embrace. He teetered at the edge, mentally frowning at the unattractive darkness. But the pull was strong, and he felt he would go mad if he remained in his body. So he let himself fall into the darkness.