Of Dust and Devils

Grass and wildflowers filled Ari’s nostrils, accompanied by an embrace of warmth. For once, there was an easy rhythm within her chest.

Light was clear and bright against her eyelids, filtering in with a pink haze. Opening them, she saw fluffy clouds coasting through endless blue. Trees covered in a mess of malachite, dotted with growing insects, dead flowers, shiny patches of jade. Framing it all, she saw feathers. Massive coverts, alabaster with umber bars. Elegant, softer than what any cotton could muster.

With a groan, Ari lifted her head. Despite the disorientation, she felt good. Light. As if she had taken a nap upon one of those cumulus puffs, blanketed by sunshine, cradled in mist .

“Napped well?”

A yawn took over Ari before she could answer. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, one slipping out as she opened them again. A thumb wiped her cheek. Ari smiled, lifting her own hand to hold that touch close.

Embracing her wasn’t the sun, but something even warmer. Gentler. Maryanne

“Yes. I rarely sleep this well.” Ari answered, averting her eyes. Focusing away, towards dense white feathers.

“Yeah?” the other woman laughed. Her voice was sweet, rich caramel. “I don’t doubt that.”

Always closing the distance between them, always the one building the bridge. Maryanne lifted Ari’s chin, and gave her a brushing kiss. Barely a caress of lips. Ari exhaled there, staying still, devouring her presence. The sound of her pulse, the gorgeous onyx of her dark skin. Ari kissed her deeper, still feeling the flavours of their earlier ecstasy. A flutter upon her heart, an act devoid of masks, of layers of thinking. With Maryanne, she could just be.

So close together, their breaths turning into a single warm haze. Maryanne only had to exhale to be heard. “D’you wanna go again?”

Ari chuckled, inching some distance apart. Their hands remained tangled together, wings one over the other but with just enough space to take in the cold, crisp air of the world.

“No.” She answered easily, comfortable with just the shared presence. However, she also realised it was only polite to ask, “unless you do?”

Maryanne exhaled with familiar comfort, hugging her into a loving cuddle. Calloused fingers played with Ari’s hair, curling the locks between deft digits. What she would give to exist in that moment forever. The highest bliss existed between white feathers, shrouded in comfort, encased in that sweet scent of ink and wild trails.

But Ari's joy lasted right until a passing thought. Her shift was imminent; she had to be back at base soon. With the first breaths of summer upon the world, days turned longer. Made it harder to keep proper track of time.

They were located in a clearing, at one of the dozens of forest-covered hills that surrounded Evorden. The geography was one of the reasons why the Empire had picked the former agricultural-centre into its capital city. Easy to defend, filled with alluvial resources, and the Vankya river brought trading opportunities.

But while the Kar mountains and the rivers provided wealth, the smaller hills were insignificant. Uncatalogued, forgettable, and devoid of urbanisation; Warden patrols rarely bothered to put their eyes on it. A good spot to get lost in, to put a pause to life. The early season granted a thriving green to the landscape, from the moss covered stones at their back, to the breathtaking sights before them. Tree trunks parted way to a precipice, a vantage point to the sprawling city below.

“Maybe we should get dressed.” Ari sighed.

She tried to picture how a human would have seen the city: an abstract clutter of glass and buildings. A peaceful mess, a mosaic of pretty colours to enjoy. With her sharp sight, however, she could spot the Twelfth District of Evorden. Every single window in their skyscrapers. The hundreds of advertising screens. Humans and Artes going on their business, millions of ants working the system.

Maryanne let go of Ari’s hair, instead opting to embrace her even closer. Wings and arms, clinging to the robust figure of the larger Whirlwind. Curly hair tickled her chest as Maryanne snuggled under her chin. A rumbling giggle reverberated through them both.

“Ma—Maryanne!” Ari laughed, any attempt to move away trumped by the smaller woman’s nimble arms.

“How odd, this pillow is talking!” Maryanne exclaimed, burying her cackling face in Ari’s shoulder feathers. Her face took on a lazy smile as she tugged on the white wing before her.

“Let me get up, at least!”

Maryanne sat back, tail against Ari’s legs. She placed hands over the keel below, dark oak against wet clay, chipped jasmine polish at her fingertips.

“Work for it, Queen.”

Ari raised an eyebrow, her smile fading into an untroubled placid look. In a fluid movement, she grabbed Maryanne’s shoulders and dragged her down, wrapping her easily. She carried the momentum to a side roll, ultimately reversing their positions.

Maryanne laid stunned, soft lips agape in awe. Then, like a tap opened, she cackled loudly.

“Shit. You learnt a thing or two in the military, eh?”

“A lot of things. Would have been a waste if I didn’t,” Ari mentioned with a gnawing tension, a rattlesnake settling in her chest.

The Whirlwind was sprawled below, framed by wildflowers, clover, and grass. A masterwork of human ingenuity. Her playful expression, the flickering translucid eyelid, her untamed hair. A quartz-white softness to her shoulders, feathers struck with matte black bars. She could admire the features of the woman forever; study her, mark every relief, a cartographer carefully assessing its home. The curve of her jaw, the spot where black skin faded to feather. The round chin, the bow to her two-toned lips. Her levelled nose; she could easily imagine when Maryanne nuzzled it near her neck.

And her eyes. Exquisite gold, sunflower petals crowning pupils. Bright, so bright, she couldn’t stand looking at them for long. The sun, so comfortable, so difficult to look at.

Ari’s gaze strayed away, seeking her clothes. Neatly folded on top of a flat stone. A small beacon for the objects hidden below in the grass: the bundle of half-eaten food that the pair hadn’t finished, and the wrinkled ball that made up Maryanne’s clothing.

Under the heat of summer temperatures, they weren’t all that chilly. But the state of undress was starting to get grating; grass against her legs itching incessantly. Surely her wings would be full of blades, seed pods, and caught weeds. She dreaded grooming them.

Ari started to lift her weight up, but Maryanne intercepted her: catching the Whirlwind’s freckled arm, dragging her back down. Fingers went to the terracotta and cream feathers on Ari’s shoulder. Cleaning the barbs of dust, aligning them into position. Slowly threading her way to the base of Ari’s wings. Gently grazing the perimeter of the bald patch, a rosy blotch against the ivory white of underwing feathers.

“Hey, Ari?” Maryanne asked, her voice somewhat distant.

Had she done something wrong? Suddenly, Ari couldn’t stand to look at her, any of her. Not in distaste, not even in shame after the clarity of what they had been up to. But the closeness was searing. An uncomfortable pressure to perform was being set between them.

“What?” Ari answered plainly.

“Wouldn’t you want to stay like this forever?”

Fingers trailed towards lower feathers. The ventral secondary coverts, tipped in orange barring. Ari didn’t have to ponder long about Maryanne’s words.

“That’s a foolish question.”

Maryanne exhaled with amusement. “Because it’s an obvious yes?”

“No,” Ari retorted, leaning back just enough to place her wings out of Maryanne’s range. The movement ended up being extended, turned into a stretch. The ligaments of her spine popped, and she felt the grinding of bones. Stratos had extra projections to their vertebrae; she remembered that from her first-aid lessons. Gave them a stiffer base for the wings to attach.

“It's foolish because it's an impossible hypothetical,” Ari continued. “We can't stay here forever. Eventually we will have to go eat, work, excrete—”

Maryanne interrupted with a half-hearted laugh. “Lovely, what I mean is to be…free. Wouldn't you like that?”

“Free from what?”

“From this system!” The woman exploded, a stampede overflowing over a shoddy railing. “The one the government imposes on us, always tracking us, forcing us to serve humans.”

Ari stood up then, patience spent out from the sticky dew against her skin. Maryanne followed too. Standing, she was a head shorter than Ari, but that didn't stop her from being heard. One hand went to Ari’s bicep, caressing the freckles that covered her arm.

“They gave us wings, love. Wings! How amazing is that? And yet we can't even use them to fly freely. We can't fly anywhere we want, can't work on whatever we want. Can't even create for ourselves. It all has to be for the humans’ benefit.”

With a non-commital huff, Ari stepped away from Maryanne and towards her clothes. The layers made it easier to think, her head clearer as the weight of her uniform enveloped her once again. She took her time, straightening the lapels of the flight suit, tidying the sleeve where her wings extended out, feeling the pressure on her shoelaces. Maryanne waited, pulling out blades of grass with her feet.

At last, Ari sat on the stone, folding the tail guard into her pants.She wouldn't be putting it on yet, not when she knew she’d have to fly soon.

“I don't see what's wrong with that.” Ari concluded, brushing her hair with her fingers. “Humans created us, after all. They give us a home, food, purpose. And it’s not like we can’t make our own decisions. I’ve made my own decisions. I could go work in any other Warden station if I wanted to.”

“But what if you didn’t want to be a Warden?” Maryanne moved towards her own clothes, rummaging inside her pants. Instead of getting dressed, she approached Ari. She pushed away the hands, replacing them with a comb.

The Whirlwind leaned into the regular motion of Maryanne’s brushing. She was always so gentle, gingerly threading through knots. Closing her eyes, Ari sighed, “I didn’t want to be a Warden, not for a while. Which is why I was military—’

“Yes, yes,” Maryanne acknowledged, impatient. She already knew that story. “But what if you didn’t want to be either. What if you wanted to be… I don’t know. A chef at Foven, working with those fancy glacier algae? Or a tailor in Coti, making exclusive designs?”

“Why would I want to do those things? I hate having to cook or sew.”

“They are examples, Ari.”

Maryanne was annoyed. She had called her by name.

“They were bad examples,” Ari insisted. “I don’t know where you’re going with this, but I like what I’ve got.”

“Well, you're a teal. You've got a wide range of choice when you're on top of the ranks. An orange doesn't have that privilege.” Maryanne murmured, putting the comb down and braiding Ari’s thick hair.

“Why ask me this stuff, then? If you have us teals so pegged down, then you knew what my answer would be.”

Maryanne finished the braid in silence and walked away. Sitting on the grass, at the base of the stone. How could she stand the plants on her bare skin? Ari grew itchy looking at the Whirlwind below her.

“Girl, you clearly need a break. You fell asleep so fast, I thought you dropped dead. During the day you’re always yawning, it’s impossible to schedule anything with you—”

“We did schedule this little outing.”

“After how long!? Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to do this just…whenever?”

“No,” Ari said flatly. “I won’t entertain the thought, because what you suggest is foolish. If you truly want freedom, just climb up the ranks. It’s doable. Hundreds have done it. I have done it.”

“Do you think you still would be a teal if you didn't put makeup on these?” Maryanne asked, grabbing Ari's wrist. Tan and freckled, the layer of concealer that had been applied at sunrise was already fading. Stark horizontal lines were traced in even, deliberate paths. Pale raked markings, slightly raised against the rest of her brown skin.

Even if Maryanne’s grip strength was remarkable, she couldn’t have anticipated the kick to her chest. She let go of the wrist with a choked gasp. Winded from the attack, she used the now free hand to rub her side.

“That was way out of line.” Ari growled.

“I could have you suspended for assault, y’know,” Maryanne exhaled between gritted teeth.

“No. You could not. A report so minor would be lost in the database, especially since it’d be an interprovincial offense. Plus, you wouldn’t even report it.”

A moment passed, their silence filled by the sound of Ari beginning to preen her massive wings.

Maryanne agreed with the hint of a smile. “I wouldn’t.”

Hands and mind concentrated on the task of grooming. Wings brought the privilege of flight, but oftentimes they proved to be much more of a burden than a boon. Thousands, thousands of feathers required a lot of upkeep. Straightening the barbs into tidy rows. Spreading oil over the surface, allowing the feather to remain even for longer. Removing debris, dust, and loose feathers accumulated between the down.

At least she had brought her preening comb. A small tool, the top and bottom not too different from a bird’s beak. Connected by a hinge, and small, dull rakes at the borders of each ‘beak’. Ari fell into a comfortable cadence. The noise of the comb clicking open and closed, the gentle pulling of the feathers. Starting at the massive flight feathers, then continuing with major coverts, alulas, tertiaries…

The Cyclone’s voice broke through her rhythm.

“Ari, can I tell you something? But you’ve gotta promise not to tell anyone.”

There was a quietness to her voice, as if trying to keep her tone private to just the two. Strange.

Even stranger was that Maryanne had to ask at all.

Long ago, back when they were fledglings, they had made an oath together. Under the Raven’s house, shielded by their sword wings, they had exchanged their pledge. And as long as Ari breathed, as long as Ravens took upon the sky to continue braiding threads of memories, neither would divulge the inner thoughts of the other. It had provided a shield for when Ari was a child; under a different name, a different body. And while in the present she didn’t need the armour anymore, she’d forever carry that promise. No matter what.

“Tell me.” Ari stored the preening comb and straightened the fabric of her pants, pristine as it was.

Maryanne leaned back, resting against Ari’s legs. White back feathers rustled against grass and cloth. Ari’s fingers went to Maryanne’s hair, playing with the coarse curls, massaging her scalp.

Ari was still upset about the earlier dig, of course she was. But space with Maryanne was rare. She would have time to fume later.

“So! Ari... I'm just gonna lay it bare. I was at a reeducation centre not too long ago.”

“As an officer?”

“No, as a convalescent.”

“Shit.” Ari murmured, her eyes jumping to the Keeper necklace on Maryanne's neck. Glowing chartreuse. A pretty colour, a safe one. “How did you go up the ranks so fast?”

Maryanne chuckled, throwing her head back. Ari forced herself to look at her golden eyes. Beautiful. Searing. Like the molten ore that befell the slaughtering of sickly emperors. She looked away, concentrating her gaze towards the grass flattened by white wings.

“That's what you focus on? How did I go from full red to green?”

Ari shrugged.

While it was evidence of the efficacy of the system, it was still an outright impressive climb. You only went to reeducation if you somehow sunk down to the lowest of the low ranks. And while chartreuse wasn't as high as Ari's own teal, it still would have taken months—if not years—to achieve.

Maryanne straightened her neck, looking towards the trees covering the base of the Kar mountains. Her shoulder feathers swayed with the wind, each twitch of her wings cascading down the plumage.

“I didn't finish the program. A group of us were discontent with the centre, so… we just walked out.”

“What?” Ari exclaimed, a low, burning whisper. Shoulders stiffened, she curled her hands away from Maryanne. “You can't just ‘walk out’ from a reeducation centre, Maryanne! It's—this is a fucking joke, isn't it? You're abusing—”

“Ari.” Maryanne turned around, switching her weight and kneeling down. She was staring into her eyes, she could tell, but Ari refused to meet her there. “Maybe walking out was an understatement. Maybe… there was an explosion involved.”

Ari's eyes went wide, enough to sting. She grabbed the cloth above her knees, latching on it like holding onto a cliff edge.

“No. No fucking way. You're joking.”

The Ozrin Centre disaster. The biggest attack on an Artes building since the Purge. One of her legs bounced, but she paid no mind.

Maryanne stood up, sighing, an impossible weight upon her.

“You’re joking. It’s not funny, for the record, but there’s just no way…” Ari trailed off, unsure of how to even word it. It was unfathomable. The incident had been perpetuated by Menet terrorists, and all convalescents were retrieved or declared dead. All the media had reported it as such. One or two couldn’t be trusted, perhaps, but all media had, even the government outlets.

“Do you have a bodycam on you?” Maryanne asked, looking down.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Ari groaned. “ That’s checked gear, it stays at base when I’m not working.”

The woman before her fiddled with the Keeper. It blinked to white. White. A light Ari had never seen in its glowing strip. And then, it unceremoniously fell from Maryanne’s neck.

It might as well had been a nest of wasps, with how Ari recoiled. She exploded with movement. Jumping back. Wings unfurling with a commotion of flaps. Setting down distance between her and the Whirlwind. Eyes set on target. She found her gun already in her hand, a reassuring weight. Safety still engaged, for now.

This person had never been a delivery flier, had she?

“Ari—” The other stammered, something wild in her eyes.

“Stay back.”

“Ari, please, just listen to me.” She kept walking forward. For every step, Ari took two back.

By protocol, she should have been bolting out of there and then report the incident to the Hunters. Dealing with a Stray was dangerous. They were unpredictable, often aggressive. Castaways, so uncharted that not even the Swallows could have laid down a path for them.

However, she was under oath. No reports would be sent out. But nothing stopped her from leaving; it was the safest route.

The question was a blasting alarm in her mind: Why? Why? They had both grown up together, trained at the same nesting grounds. They had taken their FLEDGE together. What rotten spectre could have pulled Maryanne so far from the path?

She had to get out of there.

The Stratos’ mouth moved, but Ari wasn’t listening. She couldn’t take off easily from level ground. Hence her retreat path. Slowly, she had been inching her way to the precipice.

If she sprinted, she could get airborne. Get to the safety of the city, the perimeter of the patrol areas. And if she was followed… Well, it wouldn’t be Ari herself divulging anything. A Stray flying into a major city would be reported by thousands.

Right. Step back, kick up some dirt, and then sprint.

Step back. Her boots dug into grass, crunching down on wet leaves. She lowered her gun; not holstered. Yet.

The couple detonated. A mad dash. A tempo of four—six. Weight fell upon Ari, faster, much faster than she could have anticipated. What was she expecting? She was big, slow, and dum—

Both fell, rolled, grass staining feathers, hair, mud enveloped. Limbs collided against the smaller body, Ari wouldn’t go down without a fight. Her gun was gone, lying somewhere in the grass. But her limbs had a big range and the strength to back it up. In the proximity, she couldn’t aim for anywhere. Wing wrists clubbed the body that pressed her down.

Growls and strikes were exchanged. Ari rolled on her side, forcing the Whirlwind to let go or be crushed. It provided an opportunity to get on her feet, but twisted heavens—she was so fast. An agile climber, even without the build of an ape. She was at her chest, her back. Two pairs of wings spread out, fighting for balance. Nails could have swiped at her eyes then, a bite to her pulse would be a fast end. Her neck was uncovered. Why hadn’t death come?

Ari dropped back, letting gravity pull at her. Again, forcing the target to move. A cheap move, one that wouldn’t work twice. The other Stratos grabbed her wrist, pulled it painfully at her back. Muddy toes forced her face against the grass, disgusting plant matter smearing on her cheek.

Moving, rolling, any twitch of movement sent pain howling through her shoulder.

“Just listen to me, you oversized, stubborn buzzard!”

Muscles uncoiled, a deep breath cooled down Ari’s body. She relaxed. Hearing her out would be the best way to get out. With the Whirlwind on her back, pressing her head down, her arm back, she didn’t have much slack to free herself.

‘I’m listening’, Ari would have liked to say. But the digits at the back of her head, pushing into the dirt, the grass, forced the words into an impossible mess. Out of reach. A sigh of defeat, then.

“Look, Ari. I—I don’t want to—agh, why can’t we just talk? Nothing’s changed, you know.”

Nothing? Nothing’s changed? How could she have the gall to say such a thing, to use that cheerful voice, to weaken her grasp. Not enough to free her, never softening that far. Ari dug her face into the ground, growling. It was unseemly for a Whirlwind, a teal, to utter such noises, but the frustration was overwhelming.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to talk,” Maryanne conceded. “I promise you, I never would have wanted to lie to you if this wasn’t important enough to warrant it.”

And thus began her sermon. Maryanne had always been good with words, painting a clear image of every step that had led her to Evorden after so many years.

How she had landed at the reeducation centre wasn't surprising, but it didn't make it easier to swallow. Maryanne had always been an ambitious person, perhaps even more than Ari herself. Goals too big, flagposts too high for the government to allow.

Ari didn't know if she believed the tales of the reeducation centre itself. What was worse is that it all sounded plausible. No, not only plausible. Familiar. She knew what people with a powertrip were able to do. Not only with her experience as a Whirlwind, but as a woman. She remembered an article from decades ago, back before the world knew Artes or even genetic modification. Humans taking control over other humans. The same species, brandishing a power over their own. And why? For the same reason as always. For the same reason her army commander would lock her indoors, the same reason human soldiers would order her to fold their clothes.

Because they could.

Ari's breath caught, as the tale reached the explosion of Ozrin. Menet subjects had been involved, alright. That was undeniable.

But it had also been orchestrated by Maryanne herself.

A sudden bolt of movement, Ari tried to escape the hold. Dealing with a Stray was one thing. But a heaven-twisted terrorist? The pale-feathered Stratos was taken by surprise, momentarily. A lapse too short for Ari to abuse. She was immobilized once again, her shoulder radiating with shocks of pain.

“Hey. Hey! I'm not fucking proud of it, okay? We—We were all desperate. It was miserable. No one had dignity there. You think a Whirlwind upbringing is bad? Try being denied basic hygiene products ‘cause you were deemed to be ‘looking too happy’.”

Ari could only stare at the ground before her. An ant passed through blades of grass. So many ants were crushed every day, and no one paid any mind. And yet, there was comfort to be found in their life, wasn’t there? To belong in a system, to belong anywhere at all. How could anyone want to throw that away?

Maryanne had to take some time in silence. She remained firm on her spot above Ari. However, her ragged breaths and the cascading motions of her quiet sobs were ample tell. That whole confession wasn't any easier for Maryanne, either. Holding empathy for Strays went against protocol, against basic logic. But, this was Maryanne. Her best friend. The one person Ari could admit to have ever loved.

Slowly, the Whirlwind shifted positions. Keeping Ari immobile still, but exchanging hands, shifting weight.

Carefully, she began sketching the scene again. The aftermath of the explosion, the chaos that claimed dozens of lives. Not only razing through foundation and educators, but her accomplices. Her friends. A large-scale escape operation turned into a slaughter. Only a handful made it through the disaster.

There was ample tragedy to be found there. But Maryanne, always the optimist, found the bricks to build something. Amidst so much ruin, a clear goal was the only thing that kept the group together. It reunited them within the reeducation centre, and it’d kept them together once out, too. A group, turned into a settlement, turned into a whole project.

When once she had sounded morose, Maryanne now beamed with pride. “At a fracture in the ground, hidden by redwood trees, that’s where we established ourselves. Began as just a spot to, well, survive. Going back to the system was out of the question. It’d either be death, or being placed in another centre. And after some time we learned we weren’t the only ones hiding from Tarrukar.”

“In months, we had grown from half a dozen to almost a hundred. We are just people, people that have been abandoned by the system. Rural Wardens, like I was. Rehomed Zephyrs, Lazulis. Rejected prototypes. Lots of Whirlwinds… deemed unfit to ‘serve’. Serve. What a word, huh?” Maryanne chuckled with an unseen joke.

“Having a group so big, it was safer to split into smaller settlements. Harder to get spotted. And, of course, less snitches. We’d often meet up during clear nights, when Warden patrols would be thin. And from there, we gained the name for our little group. ‘Stargazers’.”

Ari had gone limp under Maryanne’s grasp, uncertain with what to do. What to even think. It couldn’t have been real. She had never heard of Strays building groups together, even less achieving the organization needed for whole settlements. Ari had travelled through most of Tarrukar’s territory, chatting with Hunter teams and rural Wardens. How the hell could these Stargazers be keeping such a low profile?

Maryanne must have deemed her too yielding, as she slackened her grip and stepped away. Ari’s arm fell, colliding with the grass. Pins and needles prickled through the entire limb. She struggled to move her fingers. But the discomfort of it grounded her. She focused on her arm, on forcing small movements. Sensation trickled back, painfully but steadily.

Escaping could have been possible then. Not easy, but the opening was there. The precipice was scant steps away. She could roll her way to the edge, let herself drop.

But no. Escape wasn’t an option anymore, was it? There was nothing to escape from. Only her hesitance to face Maryanne, the refusal to believe any of her words. Ari still rolled to her side, pulling her wings around her. Enveloped into a cocoon, shielded from the sun, the world. For once, her gigantic wingspan could be of use instead of a malady.

How pathetic. A teal-rank Warden, assigned to the capital of the country. Moping on the dirt. If her commander saw her, she’d be expelled immediately. She dreaded imagining what would happen if they caught wind of her interacting with a Stray.

“Ari, c’mon. Talk to me.” Maryanne muttered. By the sound and nearby warmth, Ari imagined her sitting before her. Always so gentle. Even when she was the reason for their turmoil.

Words were unattainable. Ari didn’t even bother to lift her voice. It would have been too grating. The fake contralto, forcing thoughts into comprehensible words, manipulating the air through her vocal system. It was too much. The world was too much.

Why couldn’t it have been a simple outing with a friend? Friend, Ari's mind reiterated with some amusement. Their actions that morning had been the actions of beloveds, of Swans.

Light seeped between feathers, a searing white that forced Ari’s eyes shut. Maryanne had lifted the robust limb, and pulled herself within the cradle of vulturine wings.

A mutual embrace, wings enveloped the couple. Hidden into pooled warmth. Maryanne’s arms folded around Ari. She proved to be an anchor to the world, a weight upon her chest. Taloned hands held her own, pulling them away from the burning bald patches at her ventral sides.

The Whirlwind’s grasp was strong. Solid. It held Ari together. Collected all the pieces in disarray. How she wished she could go further. Break her bones, collapse her into something precious.

“I’m sorry.” Ari gasped in a thin trickle of a voice. She didn’t even know what she was apologising for.

Maryanne nuzzled her. Whiskers tickled her chin.

“I promise, I lied for a reason. It was the only way I could have reconnected with you. You wouldn’t have given a Stray any opportunity.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“Why?” Ari exhaled, deflated. “Your… life. It isn’t here anymore.”

“No. That’s why I wanted you to join me.”

The words dug like broken glass, twisting between her ribs. Joining her was beyond foolish. Madness. Death would have been a kinder fate.

Ari only made a drowned sound, something that belonged to an agonizing animal.

“I still want you to join me,” Maryanne insisted. Her breath tickled Ari’s neck, a most lovely sensation. “You aren’t happy here, Ari. You run yourself to the ground, and for what? No one is ever going to thank you for the damage you’re doing to yourself.”

The broken glass would have been a mercy compared to those words. Ari sighed, tense. She was barely aware of her hands sliding away from Maryanne’s. Relief came swift. Feathers upon feathers, each a scorching blaze of pain, each a second of elation. A rustling noise came when they were plucked out from their follicles.

“Stop that.” Maryanne had grabbed her hands, more forceful this time.

“I—I can’t. I can’t be a vessel for your good intentions.”

“This has nothing to do with my intentions.” Maryanne sighed, something dangerous in her voice. But the adrenaline of pain had granted Ari with momentary clarity.

“Yes, it does.” Ari hissed. “I don’t—I’m happy! I’m happy with my achievements! I am a teal, I will not be throwing that away!”

“Ari—”

She didn’t want to listen anymore. Ari folded upon herself, hiding her face in her hands. In just the gap between her palms, Maryanne sneaked in a kiss.

“You don’t need to decide anything yet, lovely. But think about it, okay? This will be better for us. For you. We’ll get the future we deserve.”

What future was there in hiding? Only getting to live under the shadows? Ari knew Maryanne had to mean well. She always did. Always taking the fall for her, going the extra mile to assure her comfort. Or at least, that’s what she did so many years ago.

She couldn’t be certain if this Stray was the same Maryanne she had cherished once.