Bird Wings

Chapter 7

Wren from the first day of her kidnap would have been disgusted with the Wren now, who stood over her captor's head with a huge pair of shears (unearthed from the depths of the cave - his current haircut was actually his own work) and yet did nothing but trim his hair. That Wren would hate the way she was speaking to him, almost like he was anyone else. The trace of acid that still laced all her words to him would not have satisfied her, and she would have considered her a traitor and a weakling.

Maybe she would have hoped that it was all part of some manipulative master plan to earn his trust, if she had been able to look forward only a few weeks and see her own actions now. Wren really wasn't capable of anything but complete sincerity though. She was too impulsive and had been spoiled too much to be very good at lying. Like it or not, the Wren of the present had warmed up to Hawk considerably. She still goaded him about her captive state almost every five minutes, but it had become more of a habit or even a joke than the outpouring of real bitterness.

It was so strange how much she had changed. The position she was in, the amount of power he had over her, the pain he had caused were all still the same - and yet she felt differently. Her thoughts kept turning towards a curiosity about him, and a large amount of pity. She had been able to hate a selfish monster with uncertain motivations, but a sad young man? Her own concerns kept giving way one at a time to this new, fascinating figure.

"What was that town like, the one you were born in?" She asked him.

"You mean the one where I spent years locked up alone in a shed?" He asked sarcastically. "I didn't see much of it."

"What about before, you seemed normal as a little boy right? What was it like then?"

"I lived in a home for children, so I stayed there except for a few holidays now and then. It was a big stone house with a walled yard, and around thirty children or so."

He was sitting with his wings wrapped around himself to keep them out of her way as she stood behind him, and was keeping very still, except for his hands. He kept pinching his fingertips one at a time, over and over. It wasn't the first time she'd noticed him doing that.

"There were that many orphans in one town?"

What on earth was the mortality rate of the townspeople, to leave so many children alone? Had they checked their water supply?

"It was a much bigger town than your village. Big enough that two people could live in it and not know each other. Also I think it might have been the only orphanage in a large area."

Wren couldn't imagine living among so many people that she didn't know some of them. How many people did it have to be before a few of them would just stay strangers to each other, forever?

"The festivals must have been wonderful."

"They sounded fun. The younger kids weren't allowed to go out for festivals, it was too late at night and probably dangerous too. I remember being so impatient to grow bigger so I could go out with the older kids." His hands stilled for a moment. "Now I wish I hadn't grown at all."

"So it was okay to live in a home like that? You were happy?"

"Why do you ask?"

Why was she asking him if he was happy as a child? She was calmer these days than she had been in the beginning, but not at all less unhinged.

"Never mind. I was curious about that town because I've never been anywhere. It's weird to think that there's people out there living their lives so far away. The closest I get to hearing about them is when the traders come down the river now and then, and I was never brave enough to ask very many questions."