71

Chapter 88

Being crammed altogether on the back of a giant flying goat, you really get some quality bonding time.
A quick head count, and there are ten of us- Including me and Coal. Glass, and Hour, of course. I see the guard who's hand I punctured. He's not a happy camper, but that could also be because Coal is practically sitting in his lap. Normally there would be enough room for everyone, but with all their pointless- Hehem, I mean wonderful, luggage, we can all just barely cram on.
There's the hound-man Glass and Coal rescued- I find out it's Bugs- Who only stares off blankly into space, eyes wide and empty, confused by the sudden lose of his brother.
Of course the young man whom Coal tackled, who sits at the back of the group. When I look at him, all I can think is: eagle. A mop of feathery, pure white hair which sticks out almost more than Coal's, haphazardly windblown almost five inches higher than the top of his head; electrifying green eyes, slanted and sharper more even than Glass's, over an proud roman nose and a thin, frowning mouth. His icy white eyebrows are low, giving him a permanently angst-filled expression. There are too many lines beneath his eyes for his age, and it makes him appear even colder and more vicious.
An older man, maybe in his sixties. His grizzled gray hair hangs limp and wet with rain around a rugged, scarred face which is drawn up in a permanent scowl. With a heavy barrel-chested figure that reminds me of a bear, and only one hand, his left one replaced with a wicked short dagger that hints out of the sleeve of his long, dusty black coat; He sits with a slight slouch, eyeing every character like we're all murder suspects. I decide to keep a close eye on him.
I pick out a young woman with pure white skin and wispy, flyaway blonde hair framing a small round face and enormous eyes so pale blue they appear white, with the wide black pupils floating lost and lonely in the centers. She appears to be shaking slightly. When I look closer, I see that her skin indeed is not white, but her body is coated with thick fur whiter than that of the creature we're riding. Man, I'm lucky to just have a tail.
The last survivor is the one that really gets me. Experiment gone wrong. Mistake. Him/Her/It has long red arms tasseled with thousands of tiny wriggling purple feelers, like inch-long tentacles, it's face obscured by the over-large hood of a long black cloak, and it's constantly emitting a series of hissing and popping noises, like wood burning in the fire. I'm squeamish around it, because I know that it's one of the true Impurities, who can and often have more Beast-like impulses than human- But I swallow my doubts, remembering our campaign; that everyone deserves a chance.
"West, right?" I call back after fifteen or so minutes of flying, wondering if we should be seeing something now.
"No, East!" Glass calls, and I begin to steer Blarg into a U-turn, towards the setting sun. "No! You're already going East!" He clarifies, and I set us back on course. There goes my superior sense of direction.
"How much longer?!" Coal reads my mind as usual, yelling over the roar of the wind and the beating of Blarg's wings.
"I don't know!"
"How can you not know!?" I shout over my shoulder, panic building in my chest.
"It's been a long time, Ash! Maybe another couple of hours." The guard, Coal, and I all groan in sync. After a few more minutes, I look back at the big man, at the long, ragged brown hair and the heavy jaw, a wide flat nose and small horns jutting from the tangled mass of hair.
"So, what's your name?" I ask conversationally. He glares at me with black eyes full of loathing, nursing his holy hand.
"Stomp." He growls after a while, and I keep my eyes on the horizon, even though I'm not really steering much, and try to keep a straight face. "S-Stomp? That's a nice n-name!" I try to say evenly, biting my lip to keep myself from bursting into hysterical laughter. I feel Coal shaking in silent laughter behind me.
"Yeah." He chokes out, the moister of strangled laughter sparkling playfully in his eyes. "Great!"
"And your name?" I lean too far over, caught in the moment, to ask the angry white haired guy who was tackled by Coal, and I begin to slide, my heart shuddering when I look down at through the clouds and see glimpses of the Wold, far, far below. Warm strong hands catch me around the waist just before I slide completely off, and pull me back up.
"Thanks." I say truthfully to Coal, trying to pry his hands off before he feels the blood.
"Wait," He freezes, and I catch my breath. Too late. Then his hand gently runs back over the area of my tunic soaked by my own blood. I feel them shaking when they tentatively press and sense the hole in my gut, see them rise and hover in front of my eyes, red and bloody.
"What?" I say, my voice innocent enough, while turning and glaring pointedly at him, nodding toward the rest of the group. We argue like this, in perfect silence, for over a minute, before he finally gives in, his eyes regretful, but he knows that bringing it up will only cause panic, and nobody can do anything about it in this limited space.
"But the moment we're on the ground-"
"I know." I cut him off because I'm tired of arguing, but I also think there will be more to worry about when we get where we're going.
A lot more.