Annabelle
Growing up, our village never had parades, and the only vendors were our hunters, men and women who spent all day bringing in meat for food and collecting water, and our craftspeople, who sewed and carved to give us simple furniture and clothes. The excessive talent found in the vast population of humans was rare in our small village, so no items had ever been to the quality of a king, but we had managed to get by. It was all we needed. Things like parades and markets were out of the question. There simply wasn't enough time or resources.
And that had been my childhood. But looking down on the array of calling vendors and parents reigning in laughing children in my bird form, I can easily see why they held these festivals.
The population of the island seems so happy, eating a rainbow array of foods and meats, blinding colours being swapped and a joyful, upbeat tune playing throughout, jumping dancers and villagers doing jigs and spinning with ever-changing partners in the square, around a simple but beautiful fountain.
In a way, it reminds me of the masquerade ball Quina had held, back on the ship. But here, there are no masks. Everyone is who they are, the truth laid bare, no overwhelming amounts of money being flashed, or uncomfortable outfits. No trying to impress people who wouldn't care anyway with tiny waists and long lashes.
Carefree, relaxed, fun.
It makes me pity the nobility, who must live lives as they do, and never experience this. Sure, they get fed and pampered every day, but what's the fun in that?
There is something satisfying in earning each and every penny, working hard into the night to provide for yourself. No cheats.
With so many people milling about, I continue my steady flight southwards, Rhem once again sleeping. I need to locate somewhere more isolate, preferably with a mirror, to shift into a human. I dare not try without one, in case I come off as some crazy bat with one eye bigger than the other. I don't want anyone chucking me into a circus.
Of course, homes would have mirrors, but most estates appear to be in the facility of people, and either windows were locked shut for the day, or people were home. And changing from bird to bug to get inside a vacant home would leave Rhem victim to prowling cats and playful dogs, and there would be too many complications if a person saw.
I sigh through my beak, the sound coming out like a clipped whistle.
I'll have to go to a vacant farmhouse, or some household more isolated, and take Rhem inside somehow, to protect her from strays. Or farm pets.
And as much as I wanted to dace in the fray, I couldn't do that as a bird. And I need to find my sisters, see if I'm even in the right place. The thought of making the exhausting trek over the seas once more... No. I'd get there after the damn boat, and all this would have been for absolutely nothing.
Hell, I'd arrive after the dammed boat, unless the island was only a mile away.
I narrow my thoughts and look for a vacant lot of land, a small house nearby. My bird vision had initially been daunting and confusing, but as I grew used to it, it had become easier to see by and is extremely efficient. Spaced apart on either side of my small head, my eyes spam a much larger expanse of land, and I can even see both my flapping wings as I fly, moving up and down, and the sun slowly creeping up behind me.
And a dark shadow in the corner of my vision, larger than even my unusually big bird body, gaining on me quickly and as I twist my head to stare, my stomach flips.
Idiot! Stupid, stupid Annabelle.
A Gaylen bird, one of the natural coastal birds of the water, chasing me.
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Winged
FantasyThe nameless girl lost her history mid-morning on a lovely golden day of autumn in a field of smoke and ash. She had the wings of an angel and the tattered hair of an orphan. Wind blew cries of battle and pain towards her, and she ran like hell int...