Two Moons

Chapter 6 | Breach

Percy plunged through the undergrowth, clawing through bramble and ferns in frantic terror.  He had no way of knowing how close the kylid was on his tail; all other sounds were drowned out by his rustling, and his low, booming heartbeat which he could hear in his own ears.  There was no way he'd turn to look over his shoulder- all his efforts were tacked on escaping, though not as elegantly as he would've liked.  Every trip and stumble over roots and rocks caused his heart to lurch, as he mentally braced himself to feel a sharp tear through his back at any moment.  But surprisingly, the vegetation he thrashed through remained still behind him.

After clearing what must had felt like several groves of the forest floor, the reedacon singled out a stocky yet thin tree ahead of him, with very few branches jutting from the lower trunk.  Percy bounded up the side of the tree, his claws seizing the bark with unexpected strength.  Lithe and agile like a cat, he threw himself up the trunk again and again, not stopping until he breached the lower level of it's canopy- where the branches grew thicker and more stable.  Only then did he clamber onto a limb, still in view of the forest floor around him, as the rapping of his heart and his empty lungs caught up to him.

His throat burned dryly as he panted, unable to relax the grip his claws held on the bark beneath him.  Rain continued to berate the leaves around him in waves, and water soaked and leaked down the sides of his muzzle.  Despite being drenched, his feathers were a ruffled mess, and though he had gained scuffs and cuts, they were the least of his worries.  His eyes were dead-set on scanning the ground beneath him, not yet convinced he had managed to outrun the intruder.  Several dreadful minutes passed, each without a sound other than the shrilling rain.  Even the creatures of the area had not yet resumed their chirping and calling.  He sat up, trying to calm his violent trembling, but just as he started to soothe his panic, the vegetation on the floor stirred from where he had just fled from.

Percy froze as an alarmingly massive kylid slithered through the underbrush beneath him- though the reedacon didn't have much to base his size on, having never bumped into their kind until today.  Unlike the kylid from before, this invader was hefty and brutish, and the lesser length of his body was made up for by its muscled thickness, and to Percy's despair, he wasn't alone.  Another scrawnier yet ruthless looking kylid was right behind him, his neck and back riddled with thorny spines.  Both had the same mission, though Percy couldn't even begin to contemplate what it was.  He just stayed silent- breathless- as their heads craned and scoured the woods around them.  Their scaled underbellies crawled slowly over the earth, and through the rain Percy could hear every crumble of dirt they displaced, and every hiss they let out.  Neither one of them were aware of the reedacon perched high above them; they hardly cared to look anywhere that wasn't below or ahead of them.  The larger kylid, whose scales were deep umber with dark brown and red striping, shook his head in irritation, shaking water from his jaws and hanging ears.  Percy tried with every muscle in his body not to shake as they passed directly beneath him, both bodies weaving opposite of each other around the trunk of his tree.  He barely even looked over his shoulder, straining his eyes to follow them as they crept onward into the forest behind him.  They soon disappeared from eyeshot, but stricken with fear, Percy didn't dare budge.  Only when the usual sounds of the forest picked back up around him, several minutes later, did he allow himself to sit upright.

Percy inched back along his branch slowly, until his back brushed against the bark of the trunk.  He finally let out a deep, shaky sigh, and his chest began to rise and fall as he panted, leaning back against the tree.  The muscles in his arms and legs ached, and his body felt numb and limp.  Not only had his escape exhausted him, but there was still a phantom feeling of smooth yet gripping coils around him.  His feathers felt cinched, so much so that he constantly shuddered to shake them out.  Each movement made him feel colder, as chilly air seeped between his wet feathers.  His arm shook as he lifted his hand to his neck, rubbing through the feathers, and his throat stung, feeling almost raspy, as if the presence of a blade were still there.  But other than some scrapes from his earlier collision, and smeared spots of blood on his feathers from bolting through thorn thickets, he was fine.  Alive still, and fine.  He closed his eyes at the thought, wheezing deeply and slowly.