A Moment of Respite: Chapter 1

Oblique settled in by the crackling fire. The warmth washed over her, wrapping its arms around her in a hug. But it did little to soothe her aching body. She had never been much of a flier. Her muscles radiated a dull pain: her wings, her legs, her tail, and even her jaw from clenching it so hard mid-flight. The chiro’s heart yet pounded in her chest, certain that their safety was but an illusion. Oblique didn’t have the energy to hide her shivering.

Three, her rider, sat at approximately twenty paces from Oblique. In a rare moment her silver goggles were flipped upwards, resting on the cloth wrapped over her forehead. The human’s back was against the trunk of an old tree, strong but cracked with age. Roots crept out in every direction. Three sat with her knees tucked against her chest, her arms wrapped around them and keeping them tight against her. She didn’t hide her shivering either. 

Lastly, a tiny songbird was perched on a stump usually reserved for humans to sit on. The little bird didn’t care. She was as much a part of this adventuring party as the human and the stryx. The flames of the fire made the little honeydew songbird’s brilliant yellow, orange, and green feathers shimmer. Even Pipling was displeased about their situation. She sat in an angry bristle that looked like her best impression of a pinecone.

They had made it out. They escaped.

So why didn’t it feel that way?

Across the camp, Morgan peeled off his coat, the fabric of it coming away in tatters across his right arm where it had been singed straight through during the frantic flight through the volcanic ash. A shallow, blistering burn swept down the length of his arm. The flesh was tender and weeping. With a low, irate noise that Oblique had come to expect from him, he dropped his coat and leaned back against Icefang.

The small lycan raised her head slightly, blinking sleepily at him. She yawned, her odd, razor sharp glacier teeth glinting in the firelight. The heat had been a terrible strain on the poor girl, but her freezerburn blood had melted the worst of the hot ash that had rained down on her exposed wings and flesh. Her coat had fared worse, patches of it thinned and brittle from burns. Her freezing breath had caught plumes of heated air during their escape, clearing the way as much as possible. Icefang seemed to be taking the stress in stride, but she looked as tired as Oblique felt.

The smell of roasting vegetables wafted from an enormous pot on the fire. It gurgled and hissed happily, thick broth bubbling up to the top. Oblique turned and looked at her rider. It was cooked - but Three hadn’t made a move to remove it from the heat yet. The stryx walked timidly towards the fire, leaning cautiously over the stew. She felt her stomach growl. Leeks, potatoes, carrots, peas, and some sort of shoot floated in the pot. The broth was made from bones, cooked until it completely dissolved.

Oblique shot a pleading look at Three, putting on her most pathetic, hungriest face.

But Three wasn’t looking at her stryx companion. Her eyes were locked on the fire, her demeanor distant. Her body may have been here but her mind was somewhere else. Oblique could imagine where. The only thing that stopped her from closing herself off from the world was the gnawing pain in her gut.

Oblique thought for a moment, running calculations in her head. Could she pour the soup herself? Would it burn her mouth if she simply took a slurp of the soup while it remained over the fire? She’s seen other stryx breathe fire but that was never something she could do. Could they eat hot soup? Could she? Thoughts swirled as she stared with unbridled intensity at the vegetables suspended in the thick broth jiggling from the heat.

A dark shape moved in her peripheral vision, and Oblique startled, jerking around. Icefang had managed to make her way across the camp to Oblique’s side nearly soundlessly. Her glittering blue eyes sparkled with mirth-- but also a touch of apology. Oblique sat back in momentary embarrassment. The lycan glanced between Oblique and the soup, tilting her head questioningly. Perfectly on cue, Icefang’s stomach growled. 

Oblique could take a hint. She ultimately decided they didn’t want to risk throwing their food on the ground or scalding her tongue and walked over to Three. Three didn’t bother looking up, her gaze still fixed on the flames. Oblique carefully set her chin atop the human’s head. Three jolted, dropping her knees. It took a moment for her to come back to the present.

“Oh!” Three chuckled and reached a hand over her head. She patted the chiro on the cheek soothingly. “I’m here, girl. What’s up? Are you hungry?”

To emphasize the answer, Pipling fluttered over and landed on Oblique’s head. A single green feather drifted down and landed on Three’s lap. The songbird immediately took the form of a loaf. Three laughed a loud, hearty laugh, interspersed with snorts. It was Oblique’s favorite song.

“Alright. Let’s go get us some soup.”

It was much easier for the human, with her thumbs and not being an enormous bat, to get the boiling hot soup into bowls than it would have been for Oblique. There was more than enough there to sate all of their appetites. Morgan joined them towards the end of the meal, offering odd, lumpy sweet treats to Oblique, Pipling, and Icefang as dessert.

It was easier to rest with full stomachs, even after all they had been through. It was a thick and savory soup, with a fair bit of saltiness. It was heavy in the stomach despite being mostly liquid. A common traveling meal-- easy to find ingredients for and easy to cook.

After filling themselves with soup the night actually felt like a respite; rather than a brief interlude between sprints to save their lives.