Wise Fish | aonete

10 𓆟 Head Over Heels

The first thing that came out of Ao'nung's mouth when he awoke that morning was a grunt of pain. He squinted his eyes against the bright mid-morning light and tried to sit up slowly, but he inevitably jostled his injured arm and nearly fainted again from the shot of pain that went through his body.

The last thing Ao'nung could clearly remember was his mother soothing him. Afterwards, she had called over Kiri to start easing the srakat tooth from his arm, and the rest of his memories were a blur of agony and his own sounds of pain.

Ao'nung squinted at the strange, bright white piece of fabric that was looped around his neck and supporting his arm. Before he could ponder it any further, his mother appeared at his side. If Ao'nung wasn't confident in her skills as Tsahìk, he would've groaned at her hovering.

"How are you feeling, Ao'nung?" she inquired softly. The basket she'd been carrying was forgotten where she'd set it down in the marui's entrance.

"It hurts, a lot," he admitted, gingerly testing the amount of movement this weird, restricting cloth allowed, "but I still have my arm, so I am happy enough."

Ronal did not seem to appreciate his poor attempt to lighten the mood. Her features were as flat as ever, betraying zero emotion. Well, except for when she looked at the cloth. Ao'nung was glad she wasn't looking at him, because he would shrivel up and die if the amount of venom currently in his mother's gaze was directed at him.

"Sky people," she spat, laboriously hoisting herself to her feet (not as easy as it was when she wasn't carrying a second life within her), "we will never be rid of their influence."

Ao'nung followed his mother with his eyes as she walked to where she kept her various plant leaves and fruits that promoted healing. Ronal grabbed something, walked back, and carefully extracted Ao'nung's arm from the cloth. She applied a paste to the stitched-up wound, then replaced his arm in the cloth. The pain that was thrumming in the back of Ao'nung's mind like the hum of an insect's wings instantly began to dull, and he quietly sighed in relief.

Ao'nung's mother looked up at him sternly. "You are not to get in the water until I have expressly allowed you to. Understand? That . . . thing on your arm will help. Do not take it off."

Ao'nung nodded, averting his gaze, even though he knew he wasn't in trouble. Seeing this, his mother's gaze softened and she gently stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. Ao'nung subconsciously leaned into it.

"I am glad you are okay, yawntutsyìp. What you did was foolish," Ao'nung cringed. Ronal smiled, "but you were very brave. I am sure Kiri will want to thank you."

Ao'nung nodded and gave his mother a weak smile. She stood and left him alone in the marui with nothing to keep him company but the sounds of the sea and his own thoughts. He would be bored out of his mind if he stayed inside all day, so he clambered to his feet and headed towards the beach. Ao'nung knew that he was forbidden from going in the water for his own good, but that wouldn't stop him from getting as close as he possibly could.

Ao'nung had made it a decent way away from the marui when he spotted a familiar dark blue shape crouched by the water's edge. Nerves spiked up in his throat, but he wasn't sure why. Ao'nung and Kiri had saved each other's lives, surely any tension that might have once been was gone . . .

Well, only one way to find out.

Ao'nung clenched his teeth together and strode up to Kiri. She was sitting just close enough to the water that the waves lapped against her ankles, digging her feet into the wet sand. She looked up as Ao'nung appeared in her line of sight and gave him a flat smile.

That was a start. Ao'nung took in a steadying breath.

"Are you alright?"

Kiri looked up at him and nodded. "I mean, I'm scratched up pretty much everywhere, but it's nothing compared to you."