Trickery #5
What else can you do? You lift your wings to provide a little shade for your head and begin the long, weary plod towards the distant foliage. The sand burns your paws, though those paws are large enough that the shifting, loose sand does not constantly dislodge you, something that you are subtly grateful for. You are too hot in your fur coat, regardless of how thin and fine you might have originally thought the tawny fur, moving over taut muscles in the repetitive action of your ground-covering stride. Relaxing into the motion, you try to forget the growing hunger in your belly and the insistent thirst; you did not think that being a 'pet' of sorts in a collection or zoo would be so tiring or taxing on the body, though you had never been exposed to extreme conditions before, having lived in the city for your entire life. You had never been the adventurous sort. But, you reason, this is not any ordinary zoo, so you will have to do the best you can and get out of the desert as quickly as your paws can carry you.
The air shimmers to your right with the alluring glitter of a shady oasis - how could you have missed this? Eagerly, you trot closer, longing for a drink of cool water to soothe the burning thirst, just a little drink of water. But, as you approach, the longed for water seems to grow increasingly distant, drifting further and further away until you stumble to a halt, growling furiously: the desert plays cruel tricks.
Turning away from what you now know is nothing more than a wistful illusion, you alter your course, heading back to the crooked trees. They are a bit closer, but still shimmer in the heat, appearing and disappearing like a magician's trick; now you see it and now you don't. "Just like magic," the magician would say after making your watch disappear. But that was only an illusion, a trick of the eyes and a slight of the hand; you hope that the trees are not an illusion too and that you will find the harpies there. It's the only lead that you have.
Thankfully, the trees become very solid and real when you finally walk beneath the scant, patchy shade that they offer. The landscape around them is more rugged and less barren than the desert - enough for some vegetation to survive, barely - although it is still excruciatingly hot, so that every step seems to require a great effort. Exhaling slowly, you flop on to your side; you wince at the thought that you are behaving like a lion, or lioness, in the heat, but continue your panting as you realize that it is cooling you down more than any drink of water. Although water would be wonderful right now...
Something glints above you and you glance up, bothered by the red twinkle, which seems determined to disturb your rest. Irritated, you stand up and shake yourself vigorously to rid your fur of the dust and twigs, which had clung on when you rested. You rear back on to your hind legs and place your front paws against the spindly trunk of the tree, which shakes dangerously, a couple of dry leaves landing upon your face. Sneezing, you dislodge them and crane your neck, squinting into the glare of the sun. There is a tangled mess of twigs tucked into the crook of two branches, something white and feathery caught along the perimeter... Is it a nest?
Written by Amethyst Mare on 03 July 2012
