Rosin

7- Mitta'n Ril

"Kristin-" Rosin gasped for air. The world was blurry and lurching. The toe of her boot caught on the ground not a moment later and sent her violently sprawling to the ground. The girl coughed the last of her air away. Stop- she wanted to say, I can't... but she was beyond speech. Her whole body screamed for rest. If she tried to run a single step more she was going to pass out like the night he found her.
Kristin, seeing that she could run no further, slumped against a tree with Wren hanging limply in his arms. She grasped his trousers, "Kristin-"
"That's- fine," he breathed in his heavy, panting voice, "We have- run- far enou-"

Kristin fell to his knees with a weight that shook the leaves around them, still holding the shaking body in his big arms. He let Wren drop into his lap, but kept one arm cradling their back.
"Child- Wren, Wren..." he wiped his hand along the sweaty face.

Wren sat trembling on his knees for a moment. Their eyes were dazed and glassy as they looked around. The three of them were in the spinney thickets, in the heart of the thorns and bathed in a deep purple darkness. You could see the faintest glimmer of stars so far above if you looked up. The thorns obstructed the sky in a criss-cross web, their smooth wood occasionally catching the sheen of the moon. There was the sound of some form of crickets in the background, as there always seemed to be at night, and the distant cooing of nocturnal birds. But other than the natural ambience, all was quiet. All was still.
They had escaped the humans.

Wren recovered a little awareness after looking out at the forest for a few breaths. They gulped to wet their dry throat.
"I am alright." They croaked, sticking their chin up as they did.
Kristin laughed, his eyes misting. "You do not need to be brave," he rumbled another breath of laughter. The hand that wasn't behind Wren's back moved to brush the strings of hair from their forehead, "Not for me."
Wren started to smile, starting to say I'm fine- and then the tears broke through. First a sort of hiccuping noise, then a soft sniffle, and then Wren was dropping their shoulders and releasing the weight of their terror. The sound of their weak cries broke Rosin's heart.

"Oh, my child..." Kristin held the trembling body to his chest. Strong arms rocked Wren as they sobbed. He purred soft sounds in their ear, like waves crashing, soothing the flood of emotion. He leant his forehead down to touch against Wren's. He made them look so much smaller, so much littler than they really were.
"You are safe." Kristin stroked his hand over the bed of orange hair. It sunk and ruffled under his hand like fox fur. "My Wren. Avenala, tri-da."
Wren buried their face into his chest.

Rosin mopped a little damp hair out of her own face. Wren's tears were the only sound to break the quiet of the night, but they were calming now, simmering down from sobs into sniffles.
Kristin did not cry. He was not one to cry. But Rosin had stopped panting now that they had been sitting a moment, and though her legs felt weak and jelly-like, she no longer needed to gasp for breath. And yet he was still breathing heavily. His face was still flushed even in the darkness and his breaths were labouring, shifting his broad shoulders with each inhalation. Rosin thought Kristin only seemed to calm when Wren did. Never once did his eyes leave them, his grip only tightened if they began to tremble again.

Wren eventually sat up. Their face was red with tears, marked with funny scraggly lines where they had been pressing into Kristin's furs. They wiped at their nose with the back of their wrist.
"Thank you." They whispered hoarsely.
"Yatsna," Kristin growled, "You do not need to thank me." One hand went from their back to their face and delicately wiped some of the tears.
"I am sorry I did not end that creature." He rustled.
Rosin knew he meant not the human, rather Oleander.
"She will not last the night, Wren. You are safe from her now."

"Rosin."
Rosin looked up. Wren was leaning off of Kristin's knees, their hand twitching from the ground and towards her. She was on her feet in seconds. Rosin came and hugged Wren tight. Gods— they were cold, and still so trembly after that breakdown a few minutes ago. The two Winged hugged each other tightly before Rosin drew back.
"Are you okay?" She gripped Wren's hand in hers.
Wren gave themselves a once-over glance before replying in a shaky nod, "I'm not hurt. Not badly."
Not dead, Rosin thought they wanted to say. Alive. Not with humans.
"I'm sorry," Rosin looked at the floor. "I tried to help you..." if she would have just been strong enough to help Wren back when she first found them, Oleander never would have had the chance to drag them to that camp, to the humans. But Wren didn't humour their apology for even a moment. "Don't be sorry. Thank you." There was nothing more Rosin could have done. If not for her appearing and later getting Kristin, Wren wondered whether they might already be dead.