The wind rushed by in cool gusts, rustling my fur and whiskers. I wasn't used to going so fast—a mouse's top speed was a whopping eight miles per hour—so I kept squinting against the air blasting in my face. Some of it was shielded by Cloud's hand, and the talons he kept precariously curled around me. I made a conscious effort not to look at them. Those huge, gleaming knives of death were a sobering reminder of the danger I was in.
Then there was the fact that I couldn't be one hundred percent sure of Cloud's intentions. He could act as nice and dependable as he wanted but it didn't changewhathe was, my natural nemesis in every way.
Although, I had to grudgingly admit that it was nice to fly. Without Cloud, I never would've had this opportunity.
But it was no time for fun and games. This was a serious mission with real consequences.
"Do you have any idea where Mistral went?" I asked, raising my voice over the gusting wind.
"Sorry, no clue. As spirits go, he's pretty much the flakiest."
I wrinkled my nose in annoyance. I wished I hadn't wasted so much time down in the forest with Cloud. If I'd accepted his help right away, we would've been one step closer to Mistral.
I couldn't blame myself too much. This was a precarious situation, one I couldn't easily jump into. I had to place a speck of trust in Cloud first, which is why I'd asked to pluck one of his feathers.
But I still couldn't believe he’d actually agreed. What was he thinking? I knew it must be as painful as getting my fur ripped out; I'd only asked if it hurt to see his reaction. I'd never met anyone so eager to agree to bodily harm.
Maybe he was a masochist or something.
No, there was more to it than that. The honest glint in Cloud's eyes as he offered his body to me was difficult to fake. He really did expect me to pluck one of his feathers.
Why? Why go to such lengths for me? He didn't need to get involved at all. He could've flown away the second I snapped at him. Instead he genuinely tried to earn my trust.
Unless it was all one big lie. And if that was the case, I was falling for it.
There was no use dwelling on it. Once we caught up with Mistral, this temporary partnership would end. I never had to see Cloud again.
That thought was accompanied by an unsettled feeling in my gut. It must've been the heights.
"When you say Mistral's the flakiest spirit, what does that mean?" I asked in an attempt to curb my racing thoughts.
Cloud grinned. "Well, since you asked... Not to brag or anything, but I'm actually descended from a spirit myself."
I couldn't help snorting. "Sure."
Our flight stuttered as Cloud's wings faltered for a split second. "What? You don't believe me?"
"No."
The aghast frown on Cloud's face made me smirk. He was quite expressive.
"Why not?" Cloud demanded, pumping his wings to make up for the way he'd been startled a second ago.
"Why should I believe you? It's easy to say you're descended from a spirit, but where's the proof?" I asked.
He stammered. "I'm literally aharpy!"
"So what?"
"When was the last time you saw a harpy?"
I raised a brow. "When one stole my sword."
"Okay, fine. When was the last time you saw one before Mistral?"
I paused. "Never."
"See?"
