A Fallen HomeKin

PART X

Fog swirled around him, spinning in ethereal swirls, whorls, and shapes. It caressed his face, his skin, with cool finger tips. Little drops of water hung from his lashes, sliding down his face every time he blinked. Everything was soft white, little light filtering through the bank. Fralith inhaled, wet air filling his lungs and easing an ache he'd never noticed before. A small smile tugged at his lips; it was peaceful. Silent. Safe.

At an undefined moment, the fog swelled and rolled, filling his vision with solid white for a few heartbeats. Then it pulled back, now hovering an arms length before him instead of surrounding him. He reached out, trailing his fingers in the eddies of fog, watching as his fingers left little indents. The fog swirled over the indents, seeping into their form until they faded back into the shapeless wall of white.

He kept his hand in the fog, spinning slowly so that his indents kept forming but he could see the white fading over their ends, until he became aware that he was standing on something. It was soft and damp, laden with dew, and tickled his bare feet.

Fralith looked down. He stood on a patch of deep, green-gray grass, darkened soil peeking between blades. Wiggling his toes and watched as the blades of grass rustled. Just as he was about to look away, a white, furred blur flashed over his toes.

Instinct flared and he darted after it, leaving behind the little circle of grass and fog. White mist flew by him, pulling back just enough that he could see the white blur — a mimmink — racing ahead of him, little pink feet flying towards an unknown destination. He followed, never seeming to catch up or lose the sneaky little thing.

The ground, neither grass or dirt but something surfaceless and dark, started to slope upwards. He pounded up the slope, straining to see the mimmink as the fog closed in. On the edge of his sight, the mimmink slowed, bunched its hindquarters and lept, fluffy tail flapping behind it as it sailed through a thick wall of fog. He had no time to wonder or prepare for a jump as the wall loomed in front of him, where it hadn't been a moment before.

White. Fralith was suspended in white, wind whipping against his face and water drops flying past. Then he was not. With a foomph, he shot out of the fog and landed on a large hilltop shaded by a lone tree. Beyond the hilltop was a light gray expanse that looked to be made out of clouds.

Little feet scampered across his foot. He looked down and gasped. Instead of grass, thousands upon thousands of mimminks climbing, jumping and darting this way and that flowed over the ground. There were black ones, gray ones, brown ones, white ones, even golden-blue ones.

Fralith looked around in wonder, a grin spreading his lips. There were so many! So many colored ones, too! Bending down, he snatched a white mimmink and brought its small, wiggling furry form to his face. It squirmed, long body twisting and little stubby legs clawing the air. He held it firmly but gently until it stilled, beady black eyes finding his and shell-ears pricking.

"I wonder what the clouds look like outside today! I haven't seen the clouds in a while," it chirped, tail swishing.

"Eep!" he yelped and dropped it. It landed on its feet and dashed away, quickly disappearing into the sea of mimminks. It spoke!

"It spoke!"

Another yelp burst from his mouth and he stumbled back, looking wildy around for the speaker. His eyes landed on a brown mimmink standing on its hind legs. Before it could dash away, Fralith grabbed it and held it up.

It wiggled like the other one then stilled, cocking its head. "If I snuck into the prison and met him, would he be pleased or mad?"

What?

"What?" the brown mimmink said.

He dropped it, shaking his head. How could they speak? They were mimminks! He looked back at the ground, hesitated, then picked up a black one. It didn't struggle and instead looked him dead in the eye.