Found

I thought I must be dead by now. Sometime previously (I couldn't tell how long) I had the image of someone--a young man--with wings pulling me above the earth... He also had an insufferable smirk spread across his face.
If this was true then I must have been dead. And apparently there was an after life since an angel had come to take me away. Only the gods had enough sense of humor to send a haughty angel to take someone to death. I wondered what god or goddess I would meet, or were they all in the same place?
I swallowed and a burst of needles ran down my throat. Suddenly I noticed that my entire body was aching, worst of all my head. It hurt to breathe. It felt like each breath dragged a sandy rock along the inside walls of my throat and chest.
Was the after life supposed to hurt so much? I tried to remember any stories from the monks or ascetics about pain following death, but couldn't think of any. Mostly it was supposed to be nice. Maybe I was alive and had only dreamed of the flying boy since this was decidedly not nice.
I brought a hand to my head, stifling a moan. Mud had caked an dried along my hair, clothes, and finger nails. Yep, definitely alive. The inside of my brain throbbed and I wondered if death wouldn't have been a mercy.
Something was snuffling and I heard a slight grumble of irritation.
My eyes opened with difficulty, partially sealed shut with mud. I blinked a few times once I got my eyes open to be sure I was seeing correctly. I was encased in feathers. I rubbed my eyes now, making them sore and looked again. It was beautiful to look at, light shined through from the outside, making them glow in places. They were a brilliant white like clouds and incredibly soft. I turned to my head to the side, touching my cheek to the glossy things. After the last few days of swampy wilderness, it felt glorious. But why was I encased in feathers?
With difficulty, I rolled to my left and found myself on solid ground, my muscles screaming all the way. I blinked, finding myself on dry ground under a sturdy canopy of fur trees. There was no sign of swamp land anywhere.
There was another grumble of annoyance.
"Cut it out," I heard someone mumble.
I spun around on my knees, making myself dizzy. The vision of the young man I had seen in my dream filled my eyes. Friend was beside him, nudging the boy's head of shockingly blonde hair with his nose. Now that Friend saw me, he nickered softly and clopped over to me. My hand lifted automatically to stroke his nose as I sat agape and staring at the strange winged man laying asleep against a tree. Perhaps I had finally gone mad. I brought my other hand to cover my mouth, giggling at the thought. He stirred, opening his eyes groggily and looked at me with mild interest.
"So you made it through the night, huh?" he said sitting up and folding away his wings behind him, stretching a little as he went.
I felt my face turn bright red, and I looked away. He wasn't wearing a shirt. "Yeah..." I said softly.
"That's good," he said, getting up and stretching more fully.
My eyes followed his movement without shame now, as he went up on his toes and pulled his arms over his head. I heard the pop of his back. I quickly closed my mouth but it was hard to look away as he towered over me. He rubbed his hands over his light blonde hair to wake himself up. From where I sat he seemed huge, the tallest person I had ever seen. At least six and a half feet, so a good foot or more above my own head.
"Wow..." I whispered, not meaning to say anything at all. He looked over at me and I swallowed my tongue.
"Hmm?" he asked. Realizing I was staring we both looked away. He put his arms down and crossed them over his chest while sitting back down.
"How are you feeling?" he asked suddenly. I was happy for the distraction.
"Fine," I croaked. I cleared my throat. "Alive. Because of you?"
He looked at me, brilliant light brown eyes smiling.
"Thank you," I said. I ran a hand over my hair, suddenly very conscious of the fact that I was otherwise covered in mud.
"Have you had any food recently?" he asked, turning his head to the side a little.
"Um," I glanced at Friend who blinked at me with his big eyes. "Define food."
He looked at me skeptically and made the motion of putting food in his mouth. "You know, the kind you eat?"
"Not really," I admitted. I had only found some grassling plants in the more shallow areas of the swamp.
"Well, why don't you go down to the creek over that way and get yourself cleaned up. When you get back I'll have some... easy food, for you to eat."
I stood up shakily then, using Friend as a crutch. He watched me carefully.
"What's your name?" I asked suddenly.
"Demaren," he said. "What about you?"
"I'm Ashling," I told him.
"Nice to meet you," he said formally with a nod.
"You too," I said quietly, turning and nearly stumbling.
Friend gave a disgruntled sound and leaned into me so I wouldn't fall. I wondered if Demaren had seen, but didn't look back to check.
Friend and I made our way to the stream, though I don't know how he knew that it was where I wanted to go. It was bright here, not like the swamp at all. I would probably be happy if I never saw another swamp again. I slid down the side of Friend's front leg and sat heavily on the side of the stream. Sweat had gathered on my brow and my head pounded more fiercely than before. I reached down and swished my left hand around in the water to clear the mud off it and, cupping my fingers, raised it to my lips.
It tasted marvelous. The water only reached a few yards across and didn't really look that deep, though that could easily be deceptive. After a moment I stood up began slouching off my clothing. I hadn't noticed until that moment I was wearing a long, heavy fabric shirt that was much to big for me over my slave clothes. Lifting it off myself I held it up, wondering if it could be Demaren's.
As if in answer, a light voice reached my ears. Singing, I realized turning my head to hear better, Demaren was singing. It wasn't in a language I could understand, but it was beautiful. A light, mid-range tennor. I held the shirt close for a moment, thankful that I had been spared a watery, muddy grave. I was so thankful I laughed a little.
I wadded into the water now, my clothes in my arms. If I washed the clothes first and put them on rockes and branches in the sun, they might be mostly dry by the time I finished washing. I worked extra hard to get the mud off Demaren's shirt. It wasn't much, but it was all I could really do right now.
Laying the items out to dry, I finally stepped all the way into the water. It was chilly, but not freezing. I had to force myself to dunk my head benieth the surface. Before I managed it, I had vision of dark waters closing over my face.
I scrubbed my scalp raw since I didn't have any soap and got most of the tangles out. Despite the fact that it was warm and that I'd been moving around, I was shivering. I looked down at my right hand and saw that it still look pretty bad, the scab had turned an angry color and it was hot to the touch. I quickly put my clothes back on in hopes of warming up a little.
Friend snorted at me.
"It'll be fine," I told him without thinking.
Folding it nicely, I picked up Demaren's shirt and walked back to the little camp with Friend right beside me.
When we got back Demaren had a fire going with something simmering on top. Sitting as close to the fire as I could get without getting burned, I handed over Demaren's shirt.
"Thank you," I said again.
He took it from me without really looking, then did a double take, his brow furrowing.
"You're as red as a terra flower," he said. I didn't know what a terra flower was. "Are you feeling okay?"
I ran my good hand through my drying hair and smiled. "Just scrubbed all the dirt off. Wasn't so easy."
He nodded thoughtfully, dolling out a bit of whatever he was cooking into a small bowl and handing it to me.
I took it.
"Thank you," I said. Again. I wished for something better to say, mentally kicking myself.
Demaren didn't say anything, just leaned back on his haunches and watched me eat. I got self conscious and turned to the bowl of mushy grain. It was the best thing I could remeber eating, though I tried not to scarff it down too fast.
"So what is he?" Demaren asked when I was almost done eating. I looked up to see him nodding toward Friend who stood a few feet from me next to the fire.
"He's a hop," I said.
Demaren raised an eye brow. "Does it... hop?"
I smiled. "No. It's mostly referring to the way you have to get on one. You have to hop up."
"You have hops," Demaren thought out loud. "Do you have skips and jumps?"
I laughed now, breathily, I was tired. Demaren was smiling when I looked back at him.
"No," I said. "Do you?"
"We don't have anything bigger than..." he thought for a moment. "Well, than us. We don't need anything to travel other than our wings."
He ruffled is feathers slightly, I glanced at them and tried not to stare at the beautiful gold tipped feathers. Something clicked in my head from my lessons with Grandmother.
"You're Syla, aren't you?"
Demaren looked suprised, then turned a little pink in his tanned cheeks, rubbing a hand through his bleach blonde hair.
"Yeah, how'd you-" he stopped midsentence, glancing at his wings. "I mean, how do you even know about us?"
I rubbed my forehead absently. My headache was getting worse. "My Grandmo-er. I took a lot of lessons as a child."
"Huh," he said, thoughtfully. "I didn't know they taught about us."
"They don't really. Just where you lived and what little was known. Apparently you're hard to come by on this continent."
He gave a chuckle, thinking of something. "The flight from there to here is... tiring. At best. There's also a severe lack of forest."
I looked him curiously.
"We like forests," he explained. "What are you? I know there are different races on this continent, which one are you?"
The question caught me off gaurd and wiped the smile from my face. I was a slave. Did that still make me Gaeain? Did I still want to be Gaeaian?
"I am... from Gaea," I said finally, looking at the fire. If he didn't know I was a slave, I didn't really want to tell him yet.
I could feel Demaren looking at me, but he didn't say anything. Friend gave a snuffling sound next to me and I realized he had laid down. Sleep suddenly seemed to heavy to stave off, I leand against my four legged companion. His breathing was as steady as a lullaby. I didn't plan on falling asleep just then, but I must have, because I didn't remember anything after that.