Wingcats
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"Gryphons," Korr affirmed. He nodded his head firmly.
Tas looked around, as if expecting a gryphon to suddenly appear. Little still, just barely recovered from his illness, he would probably make a tantalizing prospect for a passing, hungry gryphon. "Nary a thing!" he exclaimed. "There are no gryphons in the Vale."
"Ah, because they have not yet come this year!" Korr said. He lowered his head and advanced one step, forcing Tas to back away. "They go out hunting come every spring, searching for meaty little fillies and foals to bring back to their hatchlings. Lure their prey in close so they don't even know the danger, purr them little stories, stare into their eyes and convince their prey that gryphons are beautiful, to come closer, come a little closer still, and then -- SNAP! They pounce, and you are dead." Korr thought it rather artful, the way he slipped in that "you" as if it was purely natural that Tas would be their prey, and everyone expected it. He could see the terror in the little dapple's eyes.
Fighting back with incredulousness, Tas forced himself to snort. "Right, Korr. What do you know of gryphons, anyway?"
Korr drew back as if insulted. "What know I of gryphons? Why, my own sister, Alma keep her, was killed by one a mere three springs ago on the lookout hill! I remember while being born, that I dreamed I saw her carted away by that great creature, how it lured her to its clutches, earned her trust! Aye, it was a pretty creature, that I'll say. A formel this one, with feathers of a dark blue like poisoned waters. Bigger than ten grown warriors!" The story seemed to unwind effortlessly from Korr's mind, and despite himself, Tas could not help but be entranced by the tale, further enthralled by the exaggeration.
Korr continued, "Her voice had a singsong note like water slapping against rocky shores, a rush of foamy hisses. To look into her eyes was to look into evil itself, and be trapped within their gaze like a green-tailed fly in a spider's web. She moved with the greatest of ease and grace, each step slipping from her like brookwater laughing thinly across its rocky bed. The majesty of her was breathtaking; to see the silhouette she cast once more! Power ebbed from her, especially from her great blue wings, folded neat atop her back though they were. A creature could die no happier than locked in lovely gryphon gaze." Korr bowed his head slightly. Tas stamped a foot, prancing nervously in place.
"Do you think there would be an escape?" asked the little dapple. "Some way to catch a gryphon's eye, and live, and not be killed by it? I will there were."
Korr brought his head back up. He set his nose at an angle, so that only one eye centered on the other colt. "Will it not!" he exclaimed. "Beauty as wicked as the gryphons have ought not to be enjoyed at all. Like the wyverns did to the poor king Jared: not lovely, but their clearness fascinating. Do not let another's beauty be your downfall, Tas. Wish not to see a gryphon's face."
Scraping the toe of his hoof against the ground, Tas muttered, "Aye, perhaps that's for the best. Korr . . . the gryphons. They would not really come for me, would they?"
"I wish that I could bear you good news, little sop." Korr used the deprecatory word 'sop' with affection. "But the gryphons hunt such tender targets as you present. Yet I'll give you wise advice: stay you always close to some shelter till you're grown. It's tender foal's meat gryphon's crave, and they find the adults to harsh and tangy-skinned."
Tas nodded. His eyes were now huge with fear, and he glanced once around him as if trying to locate the nearest shelter. Then he edged towards a nearby copse of trees. Korr bowed his head to hide his amusement.
"Well, let's talk of more pleasant things." Korr put in, raising his head back up. He chivvied Tas with his budding horn, stifling the itch that way. Annoyed, Tas craned his neck around and nipped Korr's neck.
"Don't chivvy me," the dapple colt said sullenly. Korr eyed him closely, then chivvied him again. The princeling's steps were light and high of knee; he invited Tas to battle him. Rising to the challenge, Tas backed a step away and reared, then tried to circle round Korr.
The black princeling joyed silently. Battle, even colt's mock fights such as this one, soothed his mind. Someday, the herd would leave this wretched, gryphon-ridden Vale and return at last to their Hallow Hills, the beautiful land stolen from them by treacherous wyverns. Halla, long-dead princess who had saved what few unicorns would heed her warning words though they ran against her father's trust of the white wyrms, had saved what of the tribe she could. Now, their numbers growing, the herd awaited only the arrival of the prophesied Firebringer who would help them wrest back their Hills, and in the meanwhile, they sharpened hooves and horn and prepared for a tough battle against hard-breasted, sting-tailed wyverns.
Korr's feet touched very lightly on the ground when he took steps. He whistled a foal's battle cry and rushed his tiny friend, who reared neatly up to meet him. Having been sick and useless his first years upon Alma's glorious planet, the little dapple had worked especially hard to bring his weakling's body up to fighting strength. As such, Korr found his friend to be a small but quick and lithe opponent, worthy certainly of battle.
Their long legs tangled a little in the air, each of them struggling to gain the advantage by kicking off each other and rising high. Tas slipped his legs free and, taking a step back with his hindquarters, fell four-footed. Korr followed a mere count behind, his eyes sparkling and nostrils flared with exhilaration.
Again, they rose, legs intertwining. Neither were yet accurate enough to use the penultimate warrior's trick, to balance their own front legs on the other's and push him down while heaving themselves further up to strike, but they each were practicing this move, hoping to pull it off. Korr got one foot on Tas's, but the dapple flailed his legs and he fell off. Tas thumped to the ground and was forced to take a sideways step as he almost lost his balance.
Landing his own feet firmly, Korr moved his hindquarters out of the way. He was now facing Tas at a much shorter distance, poised and ready for the next attack. This time, he had determined, he would let the little dapple initiate the charge.
Suspicious, aware that Korr's fighting habits had changed unexpectedly, Tas began to circle. Korr had very little room to turn himself and face the other colt, and realized that Tas wanted it that way. He bolted out of Tas's circle, turning back to face him just as Tas initiated a charge. The two colts met at an awkward diagonal, Tek charging Korr's shoulder head-on. The princeling had to twist his body around to meet Tas in time.
Because of his awkward positioning, Korr could little refute Tas's charge. He fell back in mere seconds, stumbling, his flanks aching a little, complaining of the pain. It made him happy, to have such a clever fight upon him. The princeling set his eyes on Tas's chest, watching for each tiny ripple of muscle that warned him of the other's moves before they came. He began to plan quietly.
Tas was pleased with himself, but took care not to let confidence overrun his judgment. Wary of his friend, the little dapple colt took a step back, and stood with feet braced and ready to dash aside the next charge. Korr was wondering if he could employ his horn, for where horns were concerned, he had much more than Tas's reach. No, horns could do dangerous damage. Tas would be at mercy of the princeling's horns and hooves.
Quickly, Korr dashed up, and gave a half rear, tricking Tas. The dapple colt reared up all the way. Korr rocked his weight onto his hindquarters and sprang up after, gaining the advantage because his balance was as yet firm, while Tas, his legs beginning to quiver from the strain, was wavering.
Korr brought his legs up neatly and kicked at Tas's chest, missing by a bare fraction. Tas twisted away and lost his balance. He landed. The princeling, minded of how his flanks could twist, albeit with pain, twisted his own body around, bringing his forelegs against Tas's side. The dapple whinnied in surprise, lost his balance, and fell onto his side, pushed. Startled still, he blinked in shock up at Korr.
Quieted, content with the outcome of the battle, Korr dropped to all fours and took a step back, calling for an end. Tas brought his legs beneath him and pushed upwards, his rickety shanks swaying. The little dapple colt bowed his head. "Clever," he muttered, champing his teeth. Grass stained half his side.
Korr started to say something, then paused. In the happy heat of battle, he had not noticed anything but Tas, but now he was aware of their small audience. A group of fillies, each a year Korr's senior, stood there. At the head of them stood Rasa.
Rasa was a pale, organic pink color that pulsed brightly like the dawn. A well-fed filly, she stood nearly the height of any colt, hefty with muscle, quick of foot. Her mind was reputably quick to catch a hint, and her spirit had long since shaken off any inhibitions she might have had, and ran free. She was beautiful.
The pale filly stepped forward, eyeing Tas. She moved up to him and checked him over like a protective mother, searching him for strain or hurt. The dapple colt looked up at her with wide eyes, intimidated, and slipped back and away. Rasa snorted, prancing lightly, unoffended. Korr let out his breath. He hadn't realized that he'd been holding it.
"Well fought, little princeling, little colt," Rasa said. She had a quiet, lovely voice. Then she bowed her head to Korr and Tas in turn. "Keep yourselves healthy and safe," she said by way of a farewell. Then she trotted back to join her group of fillies, one of whom shouldered her and nipped her withers with affection. They meandered away, Korr staring after them. Tas slowly stepped forward, glancing between Rasa and the foot-stuck Korr.
"Wake up," Tas said, nipping his friend's withers. "She's not like to notice colts as young as we are. Better you gaze on different things."
Korr turned to his friend, amused. "You think I would be better off to stare into a gryphon's gaze?"
"You'd be smarter with that choice, sure." Tas laughed, shouldering his friend. Then he raised his head high. "Ho, it's Teki!" As always, the little dapple colt's voice was suffused with merry welcome for the pied colt who had comforted him daily during his ills by bringing branches of tart rueberries to ailing Tas's grotto. The pied colt turned his head, his dark, unblinking eyes with their surrounding spots of black fixing on the other two. Teki approached.
The healer's colt bowed low. "Hail and well met, Tas," he murmured, "and Korr. How fare you each?"
"Korr toppled me," Tas said with annoyance, turning his side so Teki could see the stain of grass. The pied colt raised a curious glance to Korr, who merely flicked an ear, as if discounting the whole battle.
"Aye, that I did. Try a scuffle, Teki?" Korr inquired. The healer whickered, cheerfully enough, but shook his head.
"My time, I feel, is better spent in gathering herbs for my craft, oh son-of-the-prince. Boring though the task may be to most, I welcome it. My dam is lecturing soon on certain weeds, and I seek to find them for her."
Tas, made uncomfortable by the mention of the lecture, suddenly sought escape. "Indeed? Well, nice to see you, my friend. I wish you luck in finding that which the healer needs. Would that I could help you, but I fear to wander far from my dam's sight. She worries, as you know."
Teki nodded solemnly, bowed his head again to both colts, and walked off. Korr watched him solemnly out of earshot, then turned to Tas with a laugh. "You're not quite good at shirking duties."
Tas glared at him. "You speak like you yourself could shirk anything. You haven't passed a single undone deed across Vert's ears, well I know it."
Korr darkened suddenly. "Hush you, or I'll have you thrown on your side again. I won't make a move to help you when the gryphons come for your throat, so I won't. Be fed to their hungry chicks piece by piece on your own."
Tas hesitated. He was stuck between further pursuing the argument with Korr, and apologizing. He felt a little safer from the gryphons when he was in the wise princeling's presence, and yet . . . "Chicks?" he asked, deciding to change the subject.
"Monstrous ones," Korr said. "It's for their hungry pips that the gryphons come a-hunting in the Vale each year. In fact, when it gets late in the season and the pips are big enough to kill their own, then the gryphon formels carry foals live back to their nest, and let their pips descend and make the final kill."
"Hush up, Korr, you frighten me with these tales of gryphons."
"True ones, little Tas. All of them true."
"What would you know of their eating habits?" asked Tas.
Korr tired of this particular game; it was no longer thrilling. He would end it. "You asked before what I knew of gryphons," said Korr in a detached voice. "I told you then that my sister was taken by one. I tell you now, that also I hear Vert and other adults talking of the gryphon menace. They don't think I understand what they're discussing, but I do. The gryphons come soon, you know. It's spring time. That's their season." He dropped his head to the ground and began nonchalantly to graze.
"Springtime," Tas repeated, whispering. He glanced around him, then trotted over to a nearby copse of trees for shelter.
****
Korr awoke with a start from a dream of running free through long grasses, stretching out and galloping as quickly as he could across endlessly beautiful landscapes, without a care in the world. The grass pards even bowed their heads in his passing and refused to give chase, knowing they could never catch a creature as swift as he. The real Korr, barely weaned from his mother's milk with a beard still lengthening on his chin, rolled to his stomach and stood.
The grotto was empty. Sa had gone out to forage with Khraa, leaving her young son to meditate on his own in the cave. Shaking himself off like a Plains dog, Korr stepped out of the cave, stretching and blinking against the bright morning light that bit at him and put black holes in his vision. Korr inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring at the crisp scent of spring flowers and grasses sickeningly sweet with newfound supplements. Carefully avoiding loose rocks, the young princeling edged his way down to the floor of the Vale, prancing a little as he went and stretching his muscles. He looked around, searching for someone to amuse him.
He caught sight of something up above the hills and froze. His muscles tensed and he leaned forward, as if he would be able to see better that way. The figure remained a hazy, fluttering shadow. Korr pranced. To look into her eyes was to look into evil itself, and be trapped within their gaze like a green-tailed fly in a spider's web. Yes, he had said that. He knew it to be true . . . had known it, somehow, since the day he was born. The princeling's muscles tensed. He must see these wingèd haunts.
A whistle called his gaze back from the mountains. It was Tas, coming towards him. Under his breath, Korr cursed luck that the little colt should be awake and spot him. He cast a long glance at the lookout hill, the best place to spot incoming predators. He must see.
"Tas! Keep quiet, and follow me to the hill," Korr said, and moved away. The dapple fell quickly in behind him, chattering questions. Korr spun his tail in annoyance, then flicked Tas's jaw with it and repeated his command to be quiet. Quite taken with the delightful mystery of his friend's strange behavior, Tas finally obeyed, though Korr could sense him on the border of asking a dozen questions.
They were up to the woods now. The hill was a high promontory, with an unclimbable face and sides cloaked by woods. Korr paused, and tried to gain recognition of the unicorn on the lookout hill, but could not. He -- and Tas -- would have to get closer to their target. Unhesitating, Korr plunged into the forest. He'd been up here many times, most of them unknown to his parents, when he was younger, and could remember the way.
Stormlight caught the end of the formel's claws and glinted and sparked upon the sharp tips. Korr dipped his head, and began powering his way up the hill at a faster rate. Tas picked up a trot to keep pace, panting at Korr to slow down.
The princeling hesitated. His eyes flashed; he must see the gryphon. The lookout would surely spot the gryphon soon; Korr wanted to have the lookout distracted for a short time while he looked at that gryphon. Had to see them. An idea hatched in the back of his mind.
"Quickly, Tas!" he said, and galloped forward. His feet, familiar with the path, knew which turns to make and hooked them neatly. He wound easily through the trees, up and up toward the top of the hill. Behind him, as expected, Tas stumbled and fell behind. Frightened without his friend, the little dapple cried out, but Korr pretended to be beyond hearing. Tas's calls, Korr knew, would soon attract the lookout. The position would be right, the time correct.
Korr plunged further upwards through the trees, leaving the regular path so that he wouldn't collide with the lookout on his or her way down. He slowed now, so that he wouldn't fall. Senseless still, Tas continued to cry out for help, blissfully naming no names. Soon he would recovered himself, would remember that lookout hill was forbidden and that he would be in great trouble if discovered up here, and would be silent.
Korr reached the top of the lookout hill to find the lookout gone in search of Tas. He could smell the other's odor, but it was unfamiliar to him. The princeling stepped out on the lookout hill and braced himself. He turned his head and scanned the mountainsides for gryphons. Where had they gone? But a moment ago, they had been there. Stealthily approaching, but seen clearly enough. Had they found some sort of shadow? Korr began to feel misgivings.
Regaining his senses, Tas had fallen silent far below. Korr heard outraged screams: the lookout, angry to be tricked. The princeling half-turned, as if expecting the lookout to come bursting out of the trees. It was not the lookout who came hence.
Tas suddenly charged forward, his body covered in scratches. Seeing Korr, he skidded to a halt as if comforted. Surprised, the black colt looked at his friend, who was panting heavily and wheezing. He was trying to say something, Korr thought.
It didn't take long to figure out what. Korr might have figured it out beforehand, had he given it some thought.
A gryphon formel burst out of the trees, running full pace. Her awkward body structure made it hard for her to move quickly on land, so little Tas had had the lead on her, but she was fast behind. Korr heard the thrumming of heels as the assigned lookout returned, probably not far behind the gryphon.
Korr's eyes almost met with the gryphon formel's, but Tas rammed him hard, and the little princeling returned to his senses. He screamed at Tas and bolted for the trees, hoping he would wind a trail so thin the big gryphon would not be able to follow him. The gryphon formel was not, as he had told Tas scant three days ago, ten times the size of a unicorn, but she was still bigger than one. Tas was on his heels as the princeling galloped into the trees.
They had gotten some way in without hearing sound of pursuit by the gryphon when they heard another scream from somewhere behind. Korr skidded to a halt and turned quickly, looking back. Tas ran into him, whinnying in panic, and bit his friend's shoulder urgently. The princeling turned his back again and ran deeper into the trees.