There were a lot of things that I had wanted to escape; many of them were small things, like my older brother’s constant belittling, my mother’s constant smothering, and sometimes even the innocent shadow that was my little brother. But there was one thing that I had always felt a bit sad about leaving behind. There weren’t too many griffon families around us, since we lived so far away from the city. Many of them were amongst the bustling streets, close to work and friends, socializing with everyone they met. For us, though, there were only a few families that we could claim that we knew and were friends with. My brother had taken it upon himself to acquaint himself with nearly every griffoness in the city, even though he was shot down most of the time. He did get lucky with one, however; she was a mild gray like most of our family, only with vivid green eyes that seemed to mesmerize my older brother. The way that he approached her was completely different from his usual suave methods; this one he took his time with, sometimes even coming to her for help with his other relationships. It took a while for him to catch the hints she kept dropping, and even after she had to make the first move, but in the end they were a nearly picturesque couple. Things didn’t go as planned for him, though; after she had caught him eying another griffoness one too many times, the couple eventually split up, and in a very messy fashion too. He came home with a lot of scratches, even one that would become a scar below his left eye. He hid his face around the woods for a few weeks, and even after he came into the city he never looked twice at any griffon. His first “real love” had a younger sister, a nearly flawless white coat with a yellow beak and claws, and a pair of eyes that showed someone who not only knew what she wanted, but how she could get it. Even as an awkward hatchling I found myself avoiding her gaze more often than not; those blue gems seemed to catch hold of every detail, to the point where nothing was secret from her. And maybe that’s why she had been interested in me, I suppose. Before the fight between my brother and her older sister, we never really made attempts to stay in touch. Afterwards, though, it was almost a challenge to be rid of her. At the time, I was just starting work on the airship, building up her hull and figuring out the interior. She would often come out to the docks and sit along the edge, watching me painstakingly work my way around the rough frame. She’d talk to me as I worked, about a lot of things; her sister, my brothers, rumors heard around the city, just little things like that. I never really paid too much mind to it, but in the end it helped me stay focused on what I needed to get done. She had even offered to help a few times, with things like holding a board in place while I nailed it in, sometimes with small errands like going to grab some hardware. She never really wanted to get dirty, and I was able to sense that too, so when she had asked if she could help paint the ship, for the first time I stopped what I was doing to look over at her. Her coat was susceptible to being ruined by even the tiniest spec of dirt, nonetheless colored paint. I only shook my head, told her that it wouldn’t be a good idea. That look in her eye, though, the determination behind them told me she wouldn’t back down. I was able to settle her helping me put on the wax finish; it was what made the ship not only airworthy but also seaworthy, as well as making the wood that much more durable to the weather. Whether she had orchestrated the entire thing or not, I still don’t know; one of the cans of wax had been placed a bit too hastily, and a strong breeze had tipped the can onto my companion below. It was a clear liquid, but it was far from clean, and it had managed to get nearly everywhere on her. She didn’t scream or cry like many other griffonesses would have; she looked a bit surprised at first, still trying to comprehend what had happened. I took a moment, thinking of whether to just call down to her to see if she was okay, but I decided that it would be better to check with her myself. She held back tears, but she smiled a bit when she saw I had come to check on her. She was fine, but said she needed to wash off, maybe take a break for a bit. She asked if I was going to stay and finish, but the way that she asked gave me no choice but to go with her. We couldn’t fly back home, because I wasn’t able to carry her back and she couldn’t fly with the wax clumping her flight feathers together. Instead, she lead me to a small little waterfall hidden in the woods. I knew my brother had been here before, maybe with my companion’s sister, but nonetheless there was a homely feel about it, despite it being my first time going there. She immediately submerged herself in the pool below, taking in the warm water left over from the past summer sun. She invited me in, saying that I couldn’t be completely wax-free myself. I had to admit, I often lost my sense of self-preservation in my work, and today had been no exception. I followed her in, letting the warm water ease my muscles. I took a deep breath in, finally relaxing for what had to be the first time in a while. She eventually moved under the waterfall, trying to wash off some of the more stubborn clumps of wax from her wings. She asked me to help her with a few hard-to reach areas, which I really didn’t think much of at the moment. It was only after I was halfway done preening her wings that I realized her intentions. She sensed that I knew too, and she didn’t say or do anything other than let out a sigh. I finished her wings, stepping back to look her over. She was holding back tears again, this time, though, not because of spilled wax, but because of me. I wanted to run, to get as much space between me and her as possible; my heart was racing and I didn’t know what drove me to think of something that drastic. I didn’t move, though. I only sat back, looking her over. Her coat still wasn’t quite clean, but she still looked flawless, a real natural beauty. Her eyes, threatening to fall into tears, held me in place. I took a step closer, not really knowing what to expect. She whispered something that was lost in the crashing of the waterfall. I moved closer, embracing her, comforting her as best as I could. My companion, who had sat and watched me build my escape out of her life, didn’t want me to leave. She sat there every day as I had gotten closer and closer to leaving her, always waiting for me to finally realize. I was only a month away from being ready to leave, and she didn’t want me to go. What happened after that is between her and me; I had no intention of staying, and after that day she knew there was nothing that could keep me there. The idea of bringing her along kept passing through my mind, but she had a family of her own. They needed her, and she couldn’t leave. I’ve only heard from her once since I left; she has a little hatchling to look after now; she said that I’d be proud of her. She’s very social, a strong flier, and always dreaming. I suppose she got that from me.
Posted on: Mon, 30 Sep 2013 05:36:01 +0000