FINTAIL (SLOW UPDATES)

𝙏𝙒𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙔-𝙎𝙄𝙓

THIS WAS a nightmare.

His heart ached. His head throbbed. His soul wailed to leave his body as he wandered the walls of the monster that took his family. No, wandered was a word to define a creature free to walk the earth. Dear Speck was none of that. He wasn't even on earth.

"Keep moving," one of the alien goos hissed, bumping him forth from behind. Speck felt his lips slowly curl upward in resentment, but quickly stopped; this wasn't a fight he'd win. Nor would it do him any good. The decision to leave was already made; his decision. And it didn't seem to be making things any better.

The escorted longsnout couldn't control the growing sensation in his gut. The butterflies in the stomach. The dryness crawling up his throat. The way his legs would buckle over and over again, like lava. Was it guilt? Anticipation? Fear?

Death?

His nostrils quaked. Both eyes darted from left to right, studying the dark corners of the moving halls, noting every ripple of his reflection that the mirrors offered. His tail twitched sporadically -- it was the only piece of him that was free to let off any emotion. And his mind was no better; just a hurricane of distraught and disgust that nothing in the world could dissipate.

Amongst that churning storm was his family. The terrible, painful cries of awful that Cora unleashed still ripped through Speck's heart faster than a talon. And the emptiness that then cursed everyone else's... it only made his decision worse. He understood why these monsters would punish someone responsible, but he didn't mean to kill that creature that attacked him and Ripple. More or less, Speck didn't have a choice; the doors sealed them in and tested them without any word of agreement. It wasn't fair...

He silently whimpered to that.

Another piece of the storm then resurfaced in due time. Riptide: Speck's lost older brother whose death was a catalyst to all but him. In every passing step, the longsnout would helplessly replay his final moments again and again in his head, echoing his final words, reimagining that night when his eyes glossed over and the warmth finally drifted from his bones. He didn't think Riptide would ever leave his mind. Nor would his decision to hide it from his family, consequences be damned.

And then there was Fintail. That name, spoken proudly by the creatures that now entrapped him, ruled his thoughts more than the deafening ring of the halls he entered. It was his father's name. And now it became his. For a while, Speck believed it was just some wild coincidence; his body was reminiscent of a spinal fin and a tail on his backside. It was probably the first thing these creatures saw. Right?

Unless...

"This way," growled the Ogloo, nudging him to the right of a fork in the path. The longsnout was forced to take another turn down the hall, tailing the dark aliens to a strange jagged doorway. His eyes raised high and low, studying the golden arch at the top, and the strange curl of brown at the bottom. And, like all things here, it didn't have a scent; Speck couldn't tell what it was made of, or who it belonged to.

"Wait until the door opens," said one of the female Ogloos.

"He will ask you to enter," said the other.

"Be grateful that he asked for you, Fintail."

"Not many have spoken to him."

"And survived."

Speck's talons twitched uneasily. Once the alien goos behind him rolled off, a loud thud rented the room, startling the youngster backward. A crack of bright orange suddenly formed between the gate, crossing over the tiled ground before splashing against Speck's black and white spotted scales. He'd wince in surprise, ducking his head low as the light burned against him, and froze in hopes his body could to adjust.