"So this is wyvern valley..." Inigo found himself mystified, and quite frankly, skittish. He'd never once in his life been this high up, and he still had his feet firmly planted on the ground. He'd even declined when Cynthia had been offering pegasus rides to cheer people up. He loved his feet way to much to get that high up off the ground, and now that the ground had come up to meet his feet before plummeting down to Naga know what was down in those giant gaping holes, Inigo found himself just a tad faint.
Of course he couldn't show that to the flower beside him, who seemed to be enjoying the breeze as it whisked her hair about her face. "Doesn't it feel wonderful, like you're at the edge of the world?" She asked wistfully. Inigo could only utter a stunted response in the affirmative. His knees were weak and he was feeling dizzy, but certainly he couldn't let a simple village girl see his inherent weaknesses.
"It's, beautiful." He choked out as best he could. The lump in his throat made it difficult to get much out other than hurried breaths, but he had to do his best. He imagined Owain laughing at him as he stuttered, with tears flowing down his face. The two of them, much smaller then, had stood on the palace walls and dared each other to get as close to the edge as they could. His cousin had won that bet, and Inigo had crawled off the edge and had run screaming to his mother's skirts. The memory was a sobering one. He'd thought he'd grown out of this sort of thing, but it still clung to him like an awful smell.
But mom was long gone now and really there was no one to cry to. He had to figure this out on his own. He was here with a young village girl that could need his help at any time. As she had warned before, bandits had started stalking the area from time to time. She had brought him here at some risk to herself, and here Inigo was, trying his best not to cower like a child. He was ashamed.
He told himself that this was for the greater good, and that if a lady needed him there was no question in his mind that he would rush to her aid. But as it stood, she was helping him, not the other way around – he had to remind himself of that. Inigo took a deep, even breath, counted to five, and put on his best 'Nothing's wrong I promise don't look at me!' face.
"You said that strange guy was around here?" His voice still sounded timid to his ear, but if the girl had noticed, she didn't let onto it. "Yes. He lives here with the wyverns, and chases off the bandits when they come around. Sometimes, they come to steal the wyvern eggs. They're very valuable you see."
"And he wears a m-mask?" That was a slight slip up. He chided himself and straightened his posture, even if the young girl beside him wasn't looking at him. She nodded before answering. "I've never seen him without it. It's odd, isn't it? Flying a wyvern while wearing a mask? Its almost straight out of one of my old grans stories!" She laughed at that, and Inigo would have too, given other circumstances.
"He's a friend of yours?" She asked innocently, now turning to look at him. He was instantly casual. All rigidness vanished from his system, and he looked nonchalant and unbothered. He'd trained himself to be good at hiding what he was actually thinking or feeling, but it was surprising how instantly he switched to a casual air despite being scared out of his wits.
Inigo laughed off the statement, waving his hand back and forth dismissively. "I wouldn't call us friends. Acquaintances, really. Though, he's pretty eccentric. Ha ha.. ha.." The mock humor died on his lips. Of all the people he could have found, it had to be Gerome. It wasn't like Inigo had any right to be picky or selective, but he'd take Owain over Gerome any day. But of course, Owain wasn't much for standing still, and Gerome obviously had nesting tendencies. That was simply the situation he found himself in. He told himself that it couldn't hurt to try, and that if Gerome was in any way a liability, he'd have to deal with it on his own. His father had been killed by a betrayer, and he'd keep his sister from the same fate if he could manage it. It just so happened that he found Gerome first. He told himself that this was best, but the cold sweat on his brow and the breeze that turned him cold contradicted him. Before coming to this future, he never would have considered such a horrible option.
He still wasn't used to killing other humans, and certainly not ones he already knew. Like a mantra in his head, he told himself that Gerome wasn't like his father, that he wasn't going to betray them like Robin had and that he was simply being cautious. It didn't help that Morgan had betrayed them in the end as well. It really wasn't something he wanted to do, but either an ally or a foe, Gerome was who he'd found first, and Inigo knew he had to deal with things as they came to him.
He offered the young girl a flirtatious smile, and motioned ahead to a rickety rope bridge. The sight of it made him want to vomit, but he carefully cooled his senses as best he could. "Straight through here?" The girl beside him nodded like an angel telling him the weather. "Right across that bridge. Do be careful though, its quite old. Some spots the wood is more rotted than others." She even sounded concerned. What a flower, he thought to himself, despite his inherent want to run from the whole situation.
"Thank you, my lady. It looks a little dangerous, so perhaps you should hurry on home before nightfall is upon us." He would have normally escorted her back, but somehow, he knew that if he went back with her that he'd never muster up the courage to come back on his own. It didn't help that the mantra in his head of 'Princes don't run from their fears, Princes don't run from their fears' was overshadowed by the wailing child in him that screamed at the top of his lungs 'But Princes do run away!'
The young girl gave him a sweet smile in return, before turning on her heals and heading back. He watched her go, and a few meters away she turned back and waved at him. As a final farewell, she cupped her hand over her mouth and yelled to remember to walk carefully on the bridge. Inigo watched her go, waving and winking at her when she turned back to look at him. The minute she was out of sight, he fell to his knees, glaring at them as if they were traitors.
The cold breeze rustled his hair, and cool the sweat on his brow, making him cold and clammy. This wasn't fair. Maybe Naga was laughing at him; letting him find Gerome first, and then placing him in this horrifying place. It was all Gerome's fault. Of course he'd find the masked weirdo first, and of course Gerome would go to where all the wyverns were. It all made sense, really, but the rational side of Inigo was shrinking in terror only slightly less than his irrational side. He could hear the air flying through the large crevices in the rock face, zipping in and out of holes and banging against the solid edges that had given way to long sudden drops into oblivion. The sound made him queezy, and he went through the steps his mother had always told him to calm down. 'Deep breaths and count to five. Deep breaths and count to five.'
He continued the ritual at least five times, before he felt ready to get back up on his feet again. So slowly he got back up, one foot then the other. He swayed a bit, rechecked his balance, and spreading his legs a little farther than normal. 'Deep breaths and count to five.'
Lucina wouldn't be afraid of this, he told himself. The thought of his sister brought to the forefront a deep rooted sense of self loathing. She'd be ashamed of him if she could see him right now, knobby kneed and sweating. That thought brought a little bit of forced calm to his system, and he straightened up once more, took a deep breath, and slowly made his way towards the bridge. He got there faster than he would have liked. Somehow, that small distance had seemed like the world over, and only a few steps at the same time. It was an odd feeling.
But then there he was, looking at this rickety old rope bridge, and then down, down, down into dark unforgiving oblivion. He could feel the tears in his eyes already, and he had to reprimand himself that he wasn't Brady! Crying at every little thing wasn't becoming or attractive! A small sniffle escaped, but he angrily rubbed at his eyes and took a step forward. The way the wood moaned under his weight, and how the whole world shifted with his slightest movement made him want to turn and bolt, but he fought the urge. He took one more step, his hands going to the rope railings, holding on as if his life depended on it. 'Deep breaths and count to five' he told himself, and slowly, he made step after step after step.
Before he knew it, Inigo was already half way across the bridge, breathing like a woman in labor, but half way across none the less. A little glimmer of pride put a smile on his face. He was doing it! He was going to get across! He chided himself that he wasn't in the clear yet, and that his goofy smiles should wait until he'd actually accomplished it, but Inigo couldn't help himself. He was really doing it.
And then the world shattered into a million shards of splintering wood as the piece he'd put his weight on crumpled under his feet. Suddenly, he was falling. In an instant the world was over, he heard someone screaming, but didn't rationalize that it was himself. He imagined Lucina looking for him for the rest of her life and never being able to find him. They'd save the world, like they were meant too, but he'd miss out on it.
It was like all of it was in slow motion, his legs were slipping through the empty hole in the bridge, and he was scrambling for anything to hold onto. But he was slipping and he couldn't grab anything. The wood was scraping against his body leaving marks, but he finally grabbed onto another plank of wood, as only his head and shoulders sat on level with the bridge. The rest of his body dangling below him. He didn't dare look down, and breathing seemed impossible, he just couldn't get enough air to fill his lungs.
He tried to pull himself up, but the plank he was holding onto creaked and moaned like the one that had broken, and he knew exactly what that meant. It only took it a few seconds to snap on him as well, and this time, there really was no hope of catching anything that would save him. That was it, game over. The last thing he thought, before blacking out entirely, was that he probably should have run after all.
-\/-
Exhaustion was the first coherent thing that made sense. Bones he didn't know he had, hurt, and even though he was entirely still and his eyes were closed, he was still somehow dizzy. He tried to move, but all he got were twitches of protest, which was plenty to remind him, again, that everything hurt. As if he needed a reminder.
Then, there was a great, bellowing roar. Some horrible inhuman thing was angry; likely licking its chops at his prone, unresponsive form. It came back to him then that he had been in wyvern valley, so this was likely a wyvern. Great, instead of falling to his death a stray wyvern had swooped up and caught him. And instead of gobbling him up whole, she was going to rip him into tiny pieces and feed him to her newly hatched young. Great. Just great. He would be the first prince in Ylisse history to be eaten alive by a wyvern. Not that his sister would ever find any remains, but still. As always, not quite good enough.
He could hear the great pounding of the beast as it moved closer and closer, and without thinking he released a ragged breath from his lungs. He was tired. Maybe he'd been tired for a long time and just hadn't let himself consider it. Now, at the prospect of impending doom, he felt the sultry kiss of unconsciousness tempting him away from the present. If he was going to be eaten any way, he'd rather be asleep for it.
-\/-
He was awake again, and it wasn't because he was being ripped to pieces. Inigo had sort of figured that he wouldn't be able to sleep through that sort of pain, but he was surprised to drift into a sense of awareness where he could still feel all four of his limbs. His fingers twitched and his toes wiggled. It was a strange, but welcome sign. He had resigned himself to an untimely demise the minute the plank he'd desperately held onto had splintered in his hands, but here he was – in pain, but certainly alive and functioning.
Inigo knew he probably wasn't out of the woods, but for now he was alive and that was more than he had expected. There was pain, mostly around his abdomen, and his right arm, but it was tolerable. It certainly wasn't the worse he'd faced in his life time. Once time Kjelle had given him a real walloping, and that had certainly been some of the worst pain ever. She'd cut him a new one, a clean cut through his chest unintentionally and she'd rushed to get Brady to heal him. The memory made him smile, even though it had been bad, he'd still been surrounded by family and friends that cared about him, even if Kjelle wouldn't admit being worried later. Certainly he'd survive this too, and later on he'd laugh about it.
Slowly, Inigo opened his eyes. He was in a cave, and he could hear the crackling of a fire nearby. His eyes shifted towards where he could hear the fire, and tending it casually sat a dark menacing figure. One Inigo certainly recognized. It came to him that he had been looking for Gerome, so it made sense that the mask wearing weirdo would be in the area, and there he was, his back turned to Inigo as he tended to the fire. Next to him, was his hulking wyvern mount, curled up like a great cat, her head laying next to Gerome. It would have been cute, if it wasn't a thousand pound wyvern. And that thousand pound wyvern's eye was on him. It made a huffing sound, almost like a raspy whine, and Gerome looked to her and followed her gaze towards Inigo.
He got to see almost half of Gerome's face, unmasked, before Gerome turned his back towards Inigo. When he stood and turned to face Inigo again, the mask was back on. Wanting to meet Gerome at least half way, Inigo tried to sit from his lying down position, but found the simple motion actually quite difficult. His chest hurt immensely, and his right arm was generally unresponsive, despite consistent throbbing. He angled a glance down at his right arm to see it in a sling of some sort, and didn't think much more on the subject. It took him a while, and there was a decent amount of moaning and groaning to accompany it, but Inigo did eventually get himself into a semi-upright position, his left hand down to steady himself. Gerome patiently waited, but by the time Inigo had finished, there was a no-nonsense look on Gerome's face. It wasn't so strange. Gerome was known for his stony, non-expressive face; and the mask of course.
"I thought Princesses were the ones that slept for days."
Yup, that was Gerome. All nice and fuzzy. The casual smile fell on Inigo's face without any effort at all. "I wouldn't have minded being woken by a beautiful princess, if thats what you're implying."
That mask really hindered any chance of reading what Gerome was thinking. People say that you can read a person through their eyes, but it certainly would have helped to have visible eyebrows.
"Minerva is the only princess doing any saving."
Inigo found that statement difficult to process, on a variety of levels. First of all, it took him a while to remember that Minerva was the name of Gerome's wyvern. He'd heard it before, but it had been a while. Once Robin had betrayed them, Gerome had become increasingly distant, his closest friends being Severa and Laurent. Inigo had been grieving for his own parents at the time, and hadn't concerned himself about Gerome. It had been easy for the wyvern's name to fall into the deep chasms of his mind. He was still processing the statement, when Gerome threw him a line.
"Minerva caught you." He motioned towards her with a shift of his head. "With her mouth." Gerome paused, but after a moment of silence on Inigo's part, started again. "Your arm is in bad shape, but you're alive thanks to her."
As if to confirm the statement, Minerva lifted her head off of the cave floor, and gave a small roaring sound. If Inigo didn't know any better, he would have sworn she looked pleased. It occurred to him how ironic it was that Gerome's wyvern was more expressive than he was. Inigo didn't quite know what to say about the whole situation, so he offered a grimace and a shaky "Thank you, Minerva?" in response.
Gerome turned back to his wyvern. "She says 'Your welcome.'" The wyvern then moved her head up to Gerome's hand, and then pushing at him, sort of like a dog that wanted a treat. Gerome frowned at her in response. "No Minerva. No." The wyvern looked perturbed, before placing her head back down onto the cave floor. Gerome patted her head and apologized, before turning back to Inigo once more – who distinctly felt like he had interrupted something between a man and his wyvern that should not be interrupted.
"I would love to leave you two to your discussions, but I'm a little sore at the moment for much moving." He offered the statement with a sheepish smile. Gerome didn't respond to it, instead preferring to ignore the comment all together.
"Why are you here, Inigo?" There was a lot of implication in the question, and it was the sort of thing Inigo didn't want to really get into right then and there. Yes, he'd been trying to track down any of the others from their time, and yes he was still concerned about Gerome's potentially waning loyalties. But as he laid there, obviously bandaged up, and most certainly alive thanks to Gerome (or Minerva?) suspicion seemed petty and unjust. If Gerome had wanted to kill him, it would have been exceptionally easy to do so.
"Don't get your garters in a twist. I knew Lucina would be off taking care of father, so I thought I should go out and find everyone. Then we can all march over to Ylisse and join up with her. It would make her job easier. You just happened to be the one I located first."
If Gerome's slight twitch of the lip was anything to go on, he was not amused.
"If you knew where your sister would be, why didn't you just go to her?"
Inigo hadn't been expecting it, and the question stunned him more than he would have anticipated. He had been sure his plan was the right one. Lucina could handle anything that came her way, and she really didn't need him mucking up what she was doing. He had a way of doing that. It took him a few moments to come up with a coherent response, but when it did come, it seemed like an excuse; one he'd tell his mom to try and get her back on his side. "She doesn't need my help looking after father. She's more than capable."
Gerome most certainly was not impressed. It was difficult to gauge how he took the statement, but Gerome's body language went rigid, and he looked more imposing now, especially to Inigo, who was still labored to even sit on the floor of the cavern.
"If Minerva had been a few seconds later, Lucina would have never found you."
Inigo gave Gerome a confused look. "Lucina has bigger things to worry about." Certainly that was the truth of the matter. She had to keep the exalt alive, their father from being betrayed, and kill Robin. Three seemingly simple tasks that might very well be impossible. She had enough on her plate. If Lucina did achieve all of those things, then maybe she'd have worried about finding his splattered remains after. If he had tumbled off the bridge. But only after. She had a whole world riding on her shoulders, and she didn't have time for useless philandering younger brothers.
Gerome's body language continued to stay closed off, his arms crossed over his chest and his stance rigid. To the point that Minerva was keeping a very close watch on the two of them. They both remained silent. Gerome seemed to expect him to say something else, but for all intensive purposes, Inigo felt that he had quite plainly stated his case. After a long while, Gerome sharply exhaled, and turned around to sit next to Minerva. "You're an imbecile." He stated calmly, before leaning back on his wyvern and saying no more.
-\/-
They spent the next few days in relative silence. Inigo actually found himself in a rather poor mood, and really didn't feel like talking all that much. When he did try to start up light conversations with Gerome, he was either ignored or quickly dismissed, which further dampened his mood. In fact, Minerva was the more responsive of the two. Many a time she'd amble over to Inigo and nudge him awake, flick him with her tail, or just roar at him. It wasn't remotely charming, though it did become slight endearing.
To Inigo's surprise, Gerome and Minerva were active members of their community, which was to say they went out to socialize, and a variety of other wyverns came to see Minerva regularly. On the second day of his coming he had been rudely awakened by a larger wyvern landing in their cave, and shaking the thing to its foundations. He found himself hiding behind a large rock in terror, while Gerome and Minerva chased the other wyvern off. Neither had really seemed scared, more irritated than anything else, and Inigo realized at that point that it took a certain amount of crazy not to be intimidated by an aggressive animal 20 times your size. As if he didn't already think Gerome was beyond mental help.
Another thing was their diet. When Minerva went out on her own, she brought back meat: usually goat. When Gerome went with her, they brought back sacks of apples. Since Inigo had come to the past, he'd developed a distinct love of delicious and varied foods, but it surprised him how quickly he went back to enjoying what was simply available. He found that on the third day, he still didn't mind apples and goat.
As for the healing, things progressed quickly, but not quickly enough. On the second day Inigo could hold his sword again. Swiping it more than twice wasn't easy, but he took breaks and kept working at it. A concoction helped, but the thing had been broken before hand, so there was only so much healing an item could do. Inigo admonished himself that he should be happy that he wasn't stuck there for weeks, waiting for the damn bone to heal on its own. Even still, staying in one place for almost three days was not exceptionally easy, and Gerome and Minerva were poor company at best. His legs had been quite scratched up, and stung a bit, but all in all, they'd remained relatively unscathed, which was something Inigo was extremely thankful for. On the third day, Inigo was more than happy to give himself a sore, but clean bill of health.
-\/-
The sword once again felt like an extension of his hand. He'd blame Owain for such a dumb way of thinking about a sword, but the thought of his cousin was actually quite comforting, so he didn't mind all that much. After much practice the day before, and a very good rest that night, Inigo was quite prepared to be on his way. He busied himself with practice swings and light bouncing back and forth, his mood quite improved from the previous days.
Minerva gruffed at him from her lounging place on the other side of the cave floor. He offered her a bright smile and gave a few more practice swings in demonstration.
"Don't over do it" was Gerome's nonchalant response from across the cave. He sat next to Minerva, pealing an apple with a small carving knife. Inigo gave the other man a dazzling smile. "I'm in tip top shape. No need for concern."
Gerome huffed in response, but didn't otherwise react. He simply continued to peal his apple before offering it to Minerva, who gobbled it out of his hand in one bite.
Inigo continued to busy himself with practice swings and light foot steps back and forth. The movement was familiar, and much more fluid than it had been yesterday. It was always nice to be able to actually see progress. There was no question that he could easily be on his way at this point, which brought his mind back to the original goal of the whole trip. He craned a sideways view at Gerome, carefully pealing another apple, and slid his sword back into its scabbard at his side.
"Soooo, when will you be ready to leave? Gerome?" Inigo hadn't been looking at Gerome when he started the statement, but he found himself slowly looking over to gauge how the other man would react to the prompt. Inigo had a feeling that he wasn't going to like what Gerome had to say, but eternally the optimist, he tried flashing Gerome an understanding, sympathetic smile.
Gerome didn't look up from his apple as he promptly dismissed the statement. "You can go chase after Lucina and your parents on your own."
The statement wiped the smile clear off of Inigo's face, and he found the glare that went in its place hard to get rid of. He had a feeling this would be the case, but he had hoped Gerome would come to his senses at some point. "You came here to help right the future. You're not going to do it by sitting around in this pit ignoring the world around you. Now are you going to come with me or not?"
"I am not." Was Gerome's firm response as he finished pealing his apple and sliced it into small bite size pieces.
Inigo took a deep breath before straightening up and approaching Gerome so that they were only a few feet away. It has probably been a mistake to ask the question with such a distance between them, so he wasn't going to make the same mistake.
"Gerome, this is the path we chose. We need to find the others and meet up with Lucina. Hiding away in here isn't going to solve anything." He made his tone even but firm, and his stance confident but not aggressive. One thing he did know, was that Gerome was as stubborn as they came, and if he was going to convince him, he'd have to appeal to his sense of duty. Thats how Lucina handled Gerome, and she usually got what she wanted. Lucina could convince him, but Inigo would have to do the job instead.
To Inigo's surprise, Gerome stood and approached him. It hadn't been what he'd expected, and he was even less prepared when Gerome shoved a piece of apple in his gaping mouth before walking back over to Minerva, placing a hand on her back. "You assume we can change anything at all."
Inigo wanted to retort quickly, but with a mouth full of apple it was rather difficult. He chewed furiously and gulped the fruit down as fast as he could to try and respond just a few seconds faster. "Lady Naga wouldn't have sent us here if we couldn't change anything."
Gerome handed the rest of the apple in his hand to Minerva, - who gobbled it up quickly- before turning back to Inigo, and leaning against the animal's large figure. "If Lady Naga is so powerful and all knowing, why were we separated in the first place?" The statement wasn't aggressive, more contemplative than anything else. "Lady Naga herself said that we might not stand a chance of changing the future. "The river of time always favors its original course."
There was sense to what Gerome said, but Inigo couldn't just let that hang in the air on its own. "If you're so sure we can't do anything, why did you come at all?" He hadn't meant it to be an aggressive statement, but after saying it, Inigo realized that it had sounded more abrasive than he had anticipated. He thought about loosening his stance, but decided against it.
Gerome in comparison seemed more contemplative than combative. He wasn't looking at Inigo any more, instead he was focused on the hard stone surface of the cave to his right. It took him a while to answer, and when he did, it was more lost than Inigo had anticipated. "I don't know any more."
Before Inigo could respond, Germone was pushing himself off of Minerva and walking towards him again. The seemingly vulnerable side of him now a figment of Inigo's imagination. "You want me to go with you and watch Lucina murder my father. Thats the only way I'll prove my loyalty to you people. We don't even know what that will do. I don't have a future in the script you've written." Gerome's statement was quiet, but it was more unnerving than when he was cold and mean. Again, Inigo found himself speechless as Gerome stopped a few feet away. "I'm not going to stop you, and I'm not going to aid my father. You have my word. I'm no liability." The taller man crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "You should go to Lucina. Older siblings worry."
Inigo found himself exhaling in disappointment without even realizing it. "I'm not going to convince you, am I?" His response was a stony silence that seemed to stretch forever. Inigo shifted his weight uncomfortably before speaking again. "Next time I come back, it'll be with Lucina. She'll convince you."
Inigo got a small huff from Gerome in response. The masked man seemed committed not to speak. Again, Inigo couldn't help but sigh.
"Fine. Just give me a ride out of the cave, and I'll be on my way." Inigo couldn't help the defeated tone in his voice. He was disappointed. Disappointed in Gerome, and disappointed in himself. As if he could have convinced Gerome of anything. He absentmindedly fiddled with the pommel of his sword, safely secured in its sheath, before turning around to gather the few possessions he had. When he'd finished he turned to see that Gerome was doing something quite similar. It gave him pause, because for a second, it almost seemed like Gerome really was going to be going with him. Then Gerome turned on him, tossed a sack at him, and returned to Minerva.
Inigo hadn't been expecting it, so he barley caught the bag, and fumbled it a bit, losing his hold and then grasping it again before it slipped out of his hands. Curious, he loosened the cloth string sealing it, and peaked inside, were there were several apples, and some goat jerky. Even though he was still pretty unhappy about how this whole thing had gone, the food did elicit a small smile on his face. He pulled the draw string tight, and tied the bag to his belt, where it thumped against his right side.
"You are going to come with us eventually. So you figure out what ever it is you need to figure out before that happens." This hadn't gone as planned, but it would work out in the end, Inigo was sure of it.
Across the cave, Gerome seemed to ignore him. The masked man heaved himself up onto Minerva's back, then angled a look at Inigo that clearly said 'Hurry up'. Heading the unsaid statement, Inigo made his way over. It was only as Gerome extended his hand down, that Inigo's fear of heights made a sudden reappearance. He rationalized that Gerome did this almost daily, and that he wasn't a splattered puddle on the bottom of wyvern valley, but it was still hard to swallow. But, he really didn't have a choice, the cave was not accessible by foot, so the only way in our out, was on wings. He placed his hand in Gerome's and without much warning, the other hoisted Inigo up unceremoniously.
Minerva didn't wait for Inigo to get situated. Instead she trotted happily over to the edge of the cave before jumping off, all to Inigo's horror. For a few seconds, she free fell, head angled straight down, and they plummeted to the ever approaching floor of wyvern valley. Inigo found himself to scared to even breath. When she dubbed it appropriate, Minerva extended her great wings, and the three of them were once again horizontal. Breathing was once again a concern, as Inigo found his heart pumping fast enough to make him dizzy.
The ride after that was smooth sailing, but Inigo found himself so traumatized, that it passed in a blur. They could have been riding for hours before they finally deposited him on solid ground, and Inigo wouldn't have been aware of it. But when they did land, Inigo tumbled off of Minerva's back as fast as he could, tripping and falling flat on his face as he did. He couldn't find the sense to care, he was just glad to be back on solid ground, the whole ordeal behind him.
"I don't think he enjoyed that Minerva" Gerome stated mater-of-factly to his wyvern. Minerva roared in what seemed to be protest, but Inigo was far to enamored by grass and dirt to really pay much attention. He stumbled to his feet, shaky and ill, but alive.
"I'll be...going now..." Inigo raised his right hand in farewell, his knees still shaking and his balance entirely compromised.
"We could give you a ride to town" Inigo swore he saw a hint of an evil smile on Gerome's mouth, but he blinked and it was gone. There was something wrong with that one, he told himself. Something very, very wrong in the head.
"No, no, I'll be fine on my own" was Inigo's prompt response, shaking his hands emphatically. Again, that smug little evil smile blossomed on Gerome's face before once again wilting. Without any other words spoken, Minerva flapped her huge wings, and the two of them disappeared down into the valley, leaving Inigo blinking in surprise. He didn't know what he had expected, maybe a good bye, but obviously it wasn't meant to be. He huffed and pouted for a moment, before turning on his heals, and heading back to the little town from whence he'd came. Maybe that lovely flower he'd met would be interested in lunch of some sort.
-\/-
"Some other time, Minerva." Gerome chided, as Miranda puffed air out of her nose exasperatedly, her tail swishing in obvious irritation.
Gerome reclined against her - pealing an apple, his mask off to the side. "You heard what he said as well as I." He finished pealing the apple, and offered it to his mount. She took it off his hands, but Gerome could still see the hints of indignation in her movements. He brought his arms up to cradle the back of his head.
"He'll be back."