FINTAIL

𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

FOSSIL AWAKENED into a nightmare.

Half-dead. Half-conscious. And bewildered... for the most part.

He was a tail-length down a growing chasm, but a claw's length away from death. A good reach from his arm would level it to an inch or so, but nobody was measuring. What good would that do?

The longsnout exhaled quietly, blinking into a foggy haze of shock. There was a coldness to his underbelly, like ice to the tongue. No pain. No discomfort. And he liked it for a while. He would lay there, staring across the chasm in fear and awe without any thoughts to summon. And when his suspicions gathered at the world's end of his snout, his eyes would lower, watching the silhouette of a claw dance elegantly in the frame of an orange flame. Was it peace? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Nevertheless, euphoria can only exist for so long before realism returns to the brain.

The cold tumbled from its climax. The numbness became an ache. And, in its place, birthed a burning, searing sensation like no other. The one that leaves a foul taste in your maw.

The one that reeks with blood.

Fossil whimpered, then shuddered. His tail slapped the ground, alerted by the sensation, and struggling to equalize it. Each passing second let the burning spread until heat and torture became indistinguishable. The dear longsnout didn't know what to make of it; there lived only pain inside him. And with pain came panic. And panic breathed agony.

"A-Agh!" the albino longsnout cried out. Both claws tensed up. His legs and tail stiffened and curled inward. His body felt aflame all of a sudden, and he appeared to wheeze between labored breaths like a mammal in heat. Something was wrong. He could feel it now. And he could smell it, too. Panting hard, Fossil gradually forced his neck to drag skull and all across the dusted grounds toward his underbelly. It took two tries to pull himself together, and one minor yank—

Before realizing something had impaled him.

Apparently, the tree above him did more than knock him unconscious. Fossil weakly gawked at a massive tree branch jabbed into his lower abdomen, dribbling fresh blood to pool at his feet. Each breath taken pushed the branch deeper, eliciting a sickening squelch that resounded in Fossil's ears and body. Now that his shock was gone, he could feel it inside him; that cold bark upon his warm muscles, rubbing to and fro with each mild quake he felt.

He lost it from there.

"No—" His claws tried to yank at it, firing up his pain receptors. The poor longsnout jolted back with a primal yelp, flexing his tail outward until the pain eased out. He tried a second time, then a third; his actions only worsened his wound and drove his lungs to scream into a void that no mortal could hear. His feet joined the terror; they kicked and pushed at the log, trying to free his bones. Within minutes, desperation smeared red into his claws, and turned his scales black; each time it would sink and bulge upward with the stick, keeping it inside. And then the tears began to flow.

"H-Help!" Fossil roared to the smoke-infused skies. "A-Agh... Anyone!"

The world answered with a booming rumble and a shiver of delight. Fossil whimpered, gripping the ground and roaring again. He was silenced, just as before. Nobody was here to find him. And nobody would.

I approached the edge of the chasm to hear his calls, questioning if Fossil was my chosen soul for this night. He was in peril... and nobody seemed to...

No. I admired him. I enjoyed his persistence, his love, his heart. He was the middle sibling of many. An exception to ignorance, but a keeper of promises. The brute... the mentor... the misunderstood...

Ahh...

I looked over my shoulder to the darkness beyond the ferns, wondering to myself... and waiting. Fate adhered to my every move, waiting for me to make a choice that would hurt this story like no other. She pulled my strings more than I pulled the living... and tonight was no different.