The Importance of Moss.

The Importance of Moss 18.

Specimen 1567 was yet to be found. Maybe the team weren’t looking hard enough or maybe Specimen 1567 was just difficult to find because of how small he was or maybe there was something they’d missed when looking at the species. Maybe they could make themselves invisible to predators, or just blend into their backgrounds like the chameleon did. After all, they would have found the specimen by now if it didn’t have some sort of protection against predators, surely?

Mr. Jakly, though annoyed at their second specimen of that species escaping, wasn’t too bothered about it because 1567 had been causing trouble with the research team and himself. The search for 1567 was to be closed after two days, and then the team would go and collect another specimen from the meadow that they’d found the other two previously.

It wasn’t a difficult process, not really. The creatures were practically defenceless and too small to do much damage. They were disposable.

-

The wingless-fae were everywhere, and they’d almost been seen on multiple occasions and perhaps they would have been caught if it wasn’t for the tall dark rooms that Cyrus had dragged them into at the mere sound of one of the wingless. He was helpful, Kier regretted to admit, because he seemed to know the corridors well enough to know his way around.

It’s the fifth time that they almost get caught that they get lucky, in some words. Luke had grabbed them this time, dragging them through the crack of an open door and into a shady room with only a little source of false light above them. Of course, to start with it was just a squat place until the coast was clear enough for them to be on the move again, but it turned out to be a lot more than that when the troop spent their time looking around the expanse of the room. 

There were lines against the wall filled with stuff that they didn’t know nor understand, then there was a large block shaped item against the far wall with a thing with four legs pushed up against it almost carelessly. However, none of that was important because they were just the needless details, and not what anyone cares about.

It was Cyrus who found the drops of something dark against the white-grey of the floor. The droplets were thinning but he followed them anyway, frown on his face and hands in tight fists in his pockets. Could this be it? He was scared about what he would find, because maybe they’d been too long and perhaps Drew had died—maybe this was some other poor creature that had had the fortune to escape? 

He ended up at a wall.

“Drew?” he whispered, voice croaking slightly from lack of use, glancing around the space for something, someone perhaps. “Are you here?”

There wasn’t any sound to start with, and he doesn’t like to admit the disappointment or dread that he felt at that moment, but it filled up his stomach and his eyes stung slightly. How had he come so close and actually given himself hope where there simply was none? His wings drooped instinctively, the tips dragging against the floor even more in his pure dismay.

But then there was something, a little cough, and that was all it took for his wings to perk up and him to turn around quickly. The black veil dropped over his eyes as he glanced around the slightly enhanced dark space, and that’s when he sees it. Him. And the hope swells up with the added joy and he makes his way over, carefully and quietly so not to get the troops hope up, or alarm the wingless.

The dark shape is shaking atop of one of the shelves; surrounded in reels of something and whatever else he could find that would make a sort of protective nest. 

“C-cyrus?” stammered the shaking fae, hands pushing away some of the nest.

The Corrigan’s face split into a grin and he rushed over, ignoring the pain in his feet because he needed to get over to Drew right this second because his own problems were the least of his worries right now. He’d found him. After all this time, here he was.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly as he gently picked away the nest so he could see the other fae better and inspect him for any signs of damage or mistreatment. He didn’t have to look for very long, and the other didn’t even need to reply for Cyrus to know what had happened to Drew. He hadn’t expected less, but he’d hoped that it wouldn’t have been that way.

Drew’s blinking a lot, hands reaching out to grab at Cyrus with need as tears started to roll hotly down his cheeks for the first time in a while. “W-who’s gonna teach you to fly now?” he whispered, only losing his words a little as his hands grabbed onto the front of Cyrus’ clothes and dragged him a little closer, just gently. 

“You are,” Cyrus murmured hurriedly, touching his fingers gently to Drew’s cheeks. “you’re gonna be fine, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He goes quiet after that, and Cyrus shouts for the rest of the troop as he gently pulled him down from the shelf, careful not to touch him too much in fear of hurting him more than he had already been hurt. He could see the sloppy wrapping of his wings and the wrap that was tight around his slim torso. It was what you were taught to do if your wings were ever injured, wrap your wings, shoulders and middle for support. They needed support.

Cyrus is checking over his face and wherever else he can while the troop rush over. there’s a thin line of vine missing from down his thigh, the main one that should be there, and there’s a long cut up his stomach as well, though there’s black lines crossing over that.

-

Luke was going to have to do a lot to get him healthy again, he could tell just by looking at him, but it was something he knew he had to do, and possibly do most of it before they even left this building or even before they left the room in which they’d found him. 

He has to shove the other three away from Drew in order to remove the wrappings and make them cleaner and better, he’s gentle enough and even manages to find some of the medicine he’d given Laurence when his wing had been torn. The worry on his face doesn’t really lessen all whilst he’s just checking the younger Fae over, frowning at all that  had been done to him and only briefly wondering if Cyrus looked the same when he had somehow gotten out of the building.

-

“I don’t like this,” Kier murmured to Laurence as he paced in tight and worried circles, his wings stiff in worry. “How are we going to get him out of here without alarming the wingless even further? Surely they must know that he is missing from where he was and are now looking for him?”

Laurence agreed with him, though didn’t want to think too much about it. They hadn’t had long enough to be happy about finding Drew again, and it was settling in pretty quick that finding him wasn’t even the difficult bit, it was getting him out safely. That was key, he didn’t care if the rest of the troop got further injured he just knew that they needed Drew to not get hurt any further on their escape.

“We’ll go separately,” Laurence decided. “They’ll get all of us for sure if we’re in a group, and if we’re in a group we’ll be slowed down by the injured…”

Kier turned and looked at him, his wings dropping slightly as he realized that is what they had to do. “I don’t like it but if it gets us out that’s all that matters, really.”

The two went on to plan their escape further, planning what could go wrong and what would not. The strategic planning was always a part of their job as leaders and now it was dawning on the two how important it was for them to get this right, because if they didn’t their troop may face the consequences.

A/N: god this is so awfully late, but i have christmas to blame for that! anyway, they've found drew, but how do they get out?? dun dUN DUN!! 

this stories nearly at  its end I think it's had a good run.