That Don’t Impress Me Much : Part 42

  • Post category:Writing

Wordcount: 626 words
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Summary: Omen yells at Baron for a bit. He sort of has a point.

NOTE: This is the first draft of a story, so it will most likely contain plot holes, retcons, and other inconsistencies. I’ll come back and fix things once the story (or arc) is complete!

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After The Storm

Baron realizes the shield that protects them is dying when he starts to feel the rain again. The storm has passed, mostly, the terrifying winds are over and all around them the forest has been levels. The forest is leveled where they are, but all of the debris has fallen around them, forming a circular nest that helped protect them from the winds.

The golden drops the gestalt, and staggers a bit, Baron would help it but he’s feeling light on his feet himself and May is looking downright horrid, so he helps her first.

Winter and Dog are looking at the golden, terrified, and all of the other humans are sound asleep.

“What the hell was that?” May asked, leaning against baron and touching her head. She has a pounding headache but the desperate sense of purpose is gone. She looks over at the hatchling. “What the hell did you do to us?”

“You can’t die, you are too important to die.” The golden snapped, tired and hurt and sounding very very young. “I made you safe, because you are mine and you can’t die.”

Dog turned to look at Baron. “What?”

Baron hissed at him tiredly and refused to answer.

Winter just gaped.

“You did WHAT?” Dog stepped forward, snarling, but too tired to fight. At least not fight very long.

“She was going to die!” Baron snapped, “I will not let her die.”

“But you did.” The golden bitched, “I saw it, I saw you and I saw her die and she’s mine and she can’t die.” It tried to preen it’s left wing and yelped as the broken feathers grated against each other. “They would not let me go.” It keened. “They would not let me go and I had to HURT.”

Baron sighed, hatchlings. “Don’t try and preen, we need to get them sealed first. You will bleed to death if you keep that up.”

“HURTS.”The golden objected.

“You took someone else’s rider.” Dog was zoned in on that point. “You took the golden’s rider.”

“She was not the rider until it chose her, it can choose someone else!” Baron snapped.

“You can’t choose your rider.” Winter objected. “You can’t.”

“I did, he did,” Baron pointed out.

“No you did not” the golden objected, “your rider DIED. You just forgot to die too.”

“Wait, what?” May looked up at Baron who looked away.

“And so you broke the laws.” Dog snarled, “you broke the laws and the compact and you took someone else’s rider.”

“It was not his rider!” Baron poofed his very wet very unthreatening feathers and snarled. “Ask him! Ask him if he was born for a rider.”

Dog looked over at the golden waiting for it to deny the charges.

It just ignored him.

“So, so you did not have a rider? Then who were you born for?” Winter seemed incapable of following the logic.

“I was born for the war.” The golden turned to look at him. “I was born to do the things that you can’t do, with the people you can’t choose.”

“But I did choose.” Baron snapped. “And you can’t have her.” But the future trees were gone and he did not know what that meant anymore. The golden foxhawks future trees were gone too, so were his own, he figured from the way the other foxhawks were looking at him.

“I know! And you can’t do that and my feathers hurt and I don’t like any of this!” And he sounded small and pathetic and May sighed.

“I don’t like it either little dude, but we’ll have to all not like it together. Now do you think you can wake them up again?” She nodded at the other humans and the golden sighed.


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Martha Bechtel

My name is Martha Bechtel and I write fantasy and science fiction stories, paint small model horses silly colors, cast resin and plaster magnets, code random code (and Wordpress plugins)... Come on in and join in the fun!