Brooklyn remained still as the last rays of sunlight vanished from the castle walls. A familiar tingling sensation spread through him as the stone encasing his body cracked and crumbled away. Instinctively, he stretched—but pain flared in his injured wing, cutting the movement short, his eyes filling with tears from the feeling knowing that the stone sleep wouldn't have healed it in an instant.
Inside his mind, Fear yelped. "We're broken! We're broken forever!" He screamed, running around headquarters and flailing his arms about, until Anger punches him in the stomach to calm him down.
Sadness sighed, pressing a hand to the console, wailing aloud with tears falling down his face. "I knew it. We'll never fly again!"
Joy forced a smile, though it faltered. "Maybe... maybe we just need time. Healing takes time, right?" He asked, looking at the others who all shrugged, muttering their responses, not really believing their leader.
Brooklyn carefully folded his wing, still wrapped in protective bandages. He had been warned not to strain it. The healers assured him that with enough stone sleep, it would mend properly. But the ache lingered, and so did the fear.
What if it never fully healed?
What if he was grounded forever?
He lowered his head, not wanting to draw attention to himself. The other hatchlings had already resumed their training, their play, their mock battles. He was stuck on the sidelines, now thinking he never really belonged among his rookery mates, rubbing his arms while sitting
"Hey."
Brooklyn tensed, turning around, scared that it was the bully once again coming back to break his wing again.
Two hatchlings stood in front of him. One was small and wiry, with a greenish hue and large, intelligent eyes. The other was bigger, rounder, with a soft blue color and an easygoing smile.
Inside Brooklyn's mind, his emotions watched with curiosity.
Disgust tilted her head. "Who arethesetwo?"
Joy brightened. "New friends, maybe?"
The small green one crouched down. "You're the one that got hurt, right?" His voice was filled with curiosity, not mockery. "That must've been rough."
Brooklyn hesitated, then gave a small nod, holding his legs on the couch.
The big blue one flopped down next to him. "I'm gonna call you Red." He said with a joking grin, but not in a mean manner.
Brooklyn blinked, confusion rising inside since gargoyles normally wouldn't have names except for Goliath.
Inside, Fear gasped. "W-Wait! Are we just accepting random nicknames now?!"
Anger huffed. "Not exactly intimidating."
"Don't mind him," the green hatchling said. "He gives everyone nicknames. I've already had three."
Brooklyn glanced between them but said nothing.
The two newcomers exchanged a look, the blue one raising his brow.
"So," the bigger one said, "you talk, right?"
Brooklyn opened his beak slightly—then quickly shut it, looking away, afraid of saying the wrong thing to these other gargoyles that would make them not want to be around anymore.
Inside, Fear flailed. "Oh no! Talking means more attention! We can't handle that right now!"
Sadness wrapped his wings around himself. "Maybe we're just better off staying quiet."
Disgust sighed. "Well, this is awkward." He grumbled, swishing his tail.
The green one hummed, tilting his head. "Okay, new plan. If you don't want to talk, maybe you can just listen."
The big one grinned. "Yeah! We'll do all the talking. We'regreatat that."
Brooklyn watched as they launched into a one-sided conversation. The green one talked about the castle, about things he had discovered in hidden corners, about questions he had that none of the elders could answer. The blue one talked about food—what he liked, what he didn't like, and how unfair it was that they didn't get to eat all night like humans did.
Brooklyn didn't say a word, but he listened intently, finding the other hatchling's stories fun.
And for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone, his heart slowly feeling lighter than it had in a long while.