FINTAIL

𝘛𝘞𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘠 𝘛𝘞𝘖

*Thu-Thump! Thu-Thump!*

THORN LOST control of his heart long before the nightmare began.

He couldn't move — his talons and feet were glued to the flesh of the earth, and his tail muscles had lost their strength. Even his eyes had a mind of their own, dilating in and out of focus to rectify an unknown fear. He may have been conscious, but only by the soul, not the heart. And the dream, he could not fight it. It forced him to see what it wanted him to see. To feel. To know.

*Thu-Thump! Thu-Thump!*

It wasn't just the flattened landscape of torn trees and falling leaves that made the blood in his veins run cold. Thorn quivered once the image of his spineless brother suddenly appeared before him. He was lying between the folds of two fallen conifers, drenched in enough red to fill a jean pocket. There was a grayness in his bloodshot eyes, too, which rolled to face Thorn, empty it was. And, under the shadow of darkness, his broken jaws gaped to speak.

"Why did you leave me?"

*Thu-Thump! Thu-Thump!*

Able. Thorn sunk into his shadow, sounding a guilty whimper. He tried to move, to break free of this curse; it wouldn't let him go. And try as he might, he couldn't look away either; every time his head turned the dream forced his gaze back to Able's rotting skeleton, to that hanging jaw torn in half, and those cold eyes that lacked his brazen soul. All of this to remind him that he left his brother to die that terrible morning. To prove that he was the only one to blame.

And beneath all that, came something else; a soft thrumming was echoing the sky. Thorn's eyes lifted, noting the detail of a round metallic circle drifting toward him. The shape drew closer and closer, spreading its might across the unknown horizon like a cloud of death, killing the star that the earth dared to worship.

*Thu-Thump! Thu-Thump!*

Three stars blossomed from its centerpiece, glistening in the dark. The ground shook beneath his talons, winds ripping turf and skin from the surface of the planet. Plants were ripped from their roots. Rock and stone circled his body, entrapping him from any and all escape. He heard a blood-curdling scream split his mind, and looked down, just in time to see Able's dead face dart at him.

"WHY!"

Thorn bolted awake. He allowed the ground to take his weight and fell to his side, both claws clamping over his skull. His eyes sealed away the real world, and his lips quaked as tongue and throat begged the stars for forgiveness.

"I didn't mean it. I-I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it..."

And, within a matter of seconds, he broke. Thorn sobbed helplessly, tail coiling in on himself to give comfort to his lonesomeness, and ease him of a pain he could not understand. His flesh may not be split, but his heart was, and, while he had yet to know why, he felt as though he should by now. Maybe the dream was a clear giveaway.

Maybe Able's death was his fault.

Another whine escaped him. Thorn's body continued to shiver against the metal floor of his box, tears turning his blood into ice. He did not want to be alone in here. He couldn't bear it. He wanted to be with Able, to share some questionable stories of his day, consequences be damned. Or Riptide, so he could tease him of his prowess in fishing, maybe Cora to allude to her drawings, or even Mother so he could admit to his sorrows. The thought was pleasant; he knew they'd all listen to some magnitude. But, tonight, the only comfort became his thoughts, and those were not as promising as he wanted them to be.

I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it.

He shifted, groaning quietly, watching his claws nick at the ground, his every breath fogging up the ground which dissipated momentarily. To say boredom doomed this longsnout would be an understatement; it was fear. There was nothing in his pit but himself -- not a scent to flower, no meat to savor, no longsnout to tender, nothing. Nothing but guilt. Nothing but pain.