Not That Far

Chapter 8-Soaring

 

  Early the next morning, I watch the thin crescent moon sink toward the west horizon. The stars were fading out slowly on the edge of the eastern horizon. But the sun was still a few hours away yet. 

  We had scaled the bluff the day before and camped out on top of the cliff. We hoped to see if Zurii would come back. I was really worried about her. We waited for as long as we dared, but she didn't show. Not so much as a sound floated up to us all that night.

  I gazed down at the trees far below us. A few days ago, I would've been delighted to jump off this cliff and into the open sky, strange as that may sound. I truly loved flying with all my heart, but after my near death experience and my current weak state, I didn't fully trust myself at the moment.

  As far as I could tell, the poison was slowly wearing off. Or at least I hoped it was. I'd heard of sicknesses that would weaken you severely, pull back for a little while, like you were on your way to recovery, then swoop in and finish you off. I didn't really know what to think of the symptoms of the poisonous fumes.

  But either way, I was feeling significantly better. My headache was barely registering and my stomach had settled considerably. My lungs didn't trouble me much either.

  I noticed Shay also looked out at the strange, dark, needle-covered trees that braved the cold so near to the White. Mist curled loosely around the slightly stunted trees and gave the morning an unearthly feel. Like me and Shay were the only things alive for clicks.

  I carefully watched the expressions flicker over his features with something akin to sympathy. They came in an endless cycle, fear, uncertainty, dread, hope, and longing. But every now and then he would glance towards the clearing where I'd left Zurii and the Thing. Though he feverently denied it, I knew he also worried about the big fur ball we'd come to love.

  But something else was troubling him, more than concern for Zurii. I assumed that it had to do with his wings. I didn't know for sure, but I couldn't think of anything else that would make him so upset.

  All of those feelings I was well acquainted with. Because after all this time, I hadn't forgotten the my own struggle to teach myself to fly by simply watching birds. That right there had been next to impossible.

  "D-do you think I'll ever fly like you?" he asked me, almost thoughtfully, casting a distraught look at the ground. I was taken aback by the question.

  "What do you mean by that?" I asked him sincerely, my brows coming together. Not understanding where this was coming from. Sure, in his condition he wouldn't be flying for a while yet, but he wasn't down forever.

  He knew that he wasn't that badly injured. I had assured myself of that last night. The supplies left over in the first aid kit had been enough to cover him. He would be completely recovered in a few weeks. Three at the very most.

  "I want to be able to fly like you! You're amazing, way better than all those stupid instructors at the Sanctuary, and you even taught yourself! ...Right?" he looked to me questioningly and I nodded.

  "But I'm ten and I can't fly at all-"

  "That's not true-" I interrupted, only to be cut off myself.

  "Yes it is! I couldn't even fly long or fast enough to get away from the Thing! Now I-I might be crippled." he protested, turning a painful look from his wings to me and back again.

  "Shay," I chided him. "That Thing only scratched you. You'll be just fine. But things like this take time. I've been practicing since I was seven, it'll be eleven years next week, but you just started a year ago. I'm sure you'll get better if you keep at it."