A Single Strand || #Wattys2018

Chapter Two

Hyrna aches all over when she wakes up.

She comes to the realization that sleeping on stone, even with the cushion of her nest, is a bad idea. Tired, she unfolds her wings and stretches them towards the sunlight. Despite being a mammalian species, Nemarin are able to use their wings to regulate how fast their bodies heat up. The little advantage comes in handy as she feels herself rapidly get warmer.

When she feels warm enough, Hyrna gets to her paws. She feels hunger chewing gluttonously at her stomach, but she decides to try and see what she can do about water first. Thirst will kill her faster.

Exercising as much caution as a Nemarin can under such circumstances, she climbs down the cliff, moves through the dense jungle while also avoiding stepping on anything, and reaches the pebbled shoreline. She checks behind her and listens carefully to be sure that no unseen predators are stalking her. When she is sure the coast is clear, she lowers her head to the water and takes a tentative drink.

Immediately, she regrets it. Her mouth is filled with salt, and she spits out the water. She wipes her mouth off with her paw and grimaces.

Bad idea there, she tells herself.

Still, Hyrna doesn't give up all hope. The animals on this island have to have some source of fresh water. Saltwater is toxic to drink, at least for the vast majority of species Hyrna knows, so they need some kind of sustenance. Even if it comes from a certain food, it's better than nothing.

Eventually, Hyrna decides to simply observe the animals. That was how she learned which things back on her home planet were safe to eat. She reasons that it might work for finding a water source. She focuses on one of the birds she saw the night before and waits.

For a while, the bird does nothing. It just sits there in the tree, not moving. Hyrna admires its streamlined body and colorful plumage while she waits for it to do something.

Then, the bird flaps its wings a little, and Hyrna has a better idea. She beats her great wings and flies above the island. Some creatures scatter around her, while others look on in surprise. She keeps her eyes down as she watches out for some kind of spring.

When she flies high enough, she notes a large thicket of trees growing in the center of the island. Recognizing almost immediately the universal sign for water, she flies down towards the trees, wary not to land on any of the creatures by accident.

The landing is awkward and clunky, and she somehow manages to get her horns caught on some vines, but when she sees the beautiful spring before her, she knows that it's worth it. It has a small waterfall draping over the side of another cliff, which empties into a pool so clear that Hyrna can see straight to the bottom. After untangling her horns, Hyrna brushes herself off and walks over to the spring. She gets down on her knees and dips her paws into the water, admiring the ripples as they travel in concentric rings to the edges of the pool. The Nemarin puts her face to the surface and takes a careful drink.

This water is a stark contrast to the algae filled seawater. It is pure and tasteless, and Hyrna gulps it down. It soothes her scratchy throat like balm on open wounds. She drinks as much as she can before needing to take a breath. When she does, she understands just how much she's taken water for granted.

The next issue presents itself as Hyrna's stomach grumbles again. Now, she decides to implement her strategy of watching the wildlife. She hides among some of the trees, thanking her mother for her dappled coat.

After a few minutes, she has practically deconstructed the landscape with her eyes. Many of the trees there bear fruit, and she watches some of the species pluck them from the branches and dig in. She settles on a teardrop shaped, reddish purple fruit dangling from the branches of the trees she used to make last night's nest and walks over. Animals scatter around her ankles, but she pays them no mind as she picks a fruit which feels squishy beneath her paw. She guesses that means it's ripe. With a sharp tug, she pulls the fruit from its branch. She checks it for boreholes, finds none, brushes off some dust, and takes a bite.