Through The Valley • Ao'nung

Chapter 29

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̶̶̶̶  «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶         In the Other Water's        ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶  

[edited]

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The kids sat on the back of the mountain banshee, eager to send both of them soaring through the air as it stood at the mouth of the cave.

At'anau extended the reins in her hands and looked over her shoulder at the boy's feet. "Okay," she adjusted in her seat, not having carried a full-grown second passenger on the creature before, but confident in both herself and the animal—it would be fine. At'anau called out for Ao'nung to hold on tight. The boy put a hand on her shoulder, to which she rolled her eyes.

Ao'nung didn't want to confess that blood rushed to his head when she shrugged off his hand and grabbed it, not intending to wrap his arms around the forest girl's waist. Instead, she placed it on the reins she had extended at the front of the saddle.

She eyed the boy, whose face was almost pressed against her shoulder, raised an eyebrow, shook her head, and muttered something under her breath.

She didn't ask if he was ready for the ride and let him suit himself as she called out for the ikran, which lunged for the sky.

Ao'nung had never felt so much resistance from the air and almost lost his grip on the handle. The two looked straight into the sun as they made a beeline for it and closed their eyes.

The blue sea became the sky as the ikran turned on its back, and the girl laughed at the boy's appalled expression. Ao'nung watched her almost predict the ikran's routine, her arms around the bindings relaxed, adjusting his hands as they lost their firm grip.

The ikran continued to let both of them drop backward, the harsh wind forcing At'anau to close her eyes—she had forgotten her windbreakers. The boy, chest pressed against her back, didn't dare blink, ready to let go of the reins to leap into the water if the banshee dropped them. She quickly noticed and held onto him as the ikran dove toward the surface, nearly breaking it, before picking up speed again.

She laughed again, watching the boy, who held the reins with one hand and her with the other, lose all color in his face. At'anau scanned the bruise one of her siblings had given him and restrained herself from asking if he was okay, briefly regretting not pushing him off the ikran herself in that moment.

Ao'nung ignored her glances, feeling like a child when it should have been the other way around. He couldn't help but wonder when the clan would allow him to fulfill his dreamhunt. He wondered if riding the skimwing would be similar to riding the ikran—they shared related ancestors.

The two animals hadn't been seen working together or showing affection yet, but they shared comparable traits in different environments, just like the two kids had been experiencing with each other since her departure.

At'anau tapped the side of his leg, signaling him to shift with the curve to maintain balance. He complied perfectly, deciding he might learn something useful for the future.

The ikran turned around the boulder they had started at, flew to its top, landed softly as the rider commanded, and jumped off.

"Let's take a five," she called out, turning to the boy who had followed her actions. "Until you're less—" she pointed at his state—"about to faint." She wiped her sweaty hands on herself and went to check on the ikran, which waited patiently.

The boy scoffed, slightly offended, feeling the urge to defend himself. "You should recall your thoughts before speaking them, forest girl," he stepped closer to the animal after catching his breath. "Let's go," he motioned his head at the ikran. At'anau raised her brows.