“I don’t know, it seemed appropriate,” I reply on another whisper, unable to help myself as I look around. The forest is eerily quiet, and there’s a dense fog clinging to the trees in the distance. Addthe puddle of happinessthat Treno was just playing with, and I still have no fucking clue what’s going on.
“Why are you taking off your clothes?” I demand when I look over and he’s started in on the ties of his pants.
He chuckles. “So I have clothes to change into when we’re done,” he states as if it’s obvious.
“Done doing what?” I demand again, exasperation now coloring my tone.
“Defending…them,” he states evenly and then points to something over my shoulder.
I have the sinking suspicion that I don’t want to turn around and see what the fuck he’s talking about. With my luck, it will be a T. rex or something.
Surprise, you’re a gryphon...oh, and you also live in Jurassic Park now! Watch out for the lizards whose necks grow!
Like some dumb kid in a horror movie, I slowly turn around and search in the direction that he’s pointing. I don’t see anything other than trees. I chuckle and shake my head. I can’t believe I just fell for thequick, look over theretrick. I’d bet money Treno will be all naked and tempting when I turn around. I’m about to tell himha ha good onewhen movement in the distance makes me pause.
Four things I had mistaken as tree trunks move one at a time in the distance. I follow them up and up and up until my head is tilted all the way back, and I have the sinking suspicion I might shit myself.
“What in the moose fucking unicorn is that?” I ask, taking several steps back, even though whatever the hell it is isn’t even close...yet.
Treno laughs and moves closer to me.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down,I start to chant because I’m ninety percent sure he’s naked now.
“That is a Cynas,” he announces casually, like the giraffe on stilts, with the long hairy boar’s head and antlers, is no big deal.
“And we’re going to kill it?” I question, an unsure squeak in my tone.
“Of course not,” he chuckles as though I’ve just said something he finds adorable.
The Cynas ambles closer, moving like one of those big weird walking machines straight out of aStar Warsmovie.
“An infestation of Mogus has been reported in the area. They like to nest in dens that Cynas have already established, and that drives the Cynas out. So we’re going to stop that from happening,” he tells me, his tone all heroic and proud.
“The Cynas can’t just find a new place to live, or fight back?” I query as I spot more of them moving in the distance. They look like they’re grazing on the tops of trees.
“No, they’re very passive creatures. Cynas are useful to us for a lot of different things. Mogus are not. So today we’ll chase off the Mogus so the Cynas stay here where we want them to be,” he explains.
“And a Mogus is what exactly?” I ask and then follow Treno’s outstretched arm again when he points to something to the side of the grazing Cynas.
I have to squint to focus on what he’s showing me, and just when I make one out, the flying thing darts so fast I can’t keep track of it. The Cynas bellows a sound that’s somewhere between amooand ableat,and I cover my ears from the overwhelming volume of it. Several little creatures dive bomb the animal’s head, and I realize that the Mogus Treno is talking about don’t just hand an eviction notice to the Cynas whose homes they steal, they attack the Cynas and chase them off.
Well, that’s just fucking rude.
“I’m going to clear the Mogus from the Cynas Prime; you clear the Mogus from his mate, which is that one…” I scan to the left until I find another Cynas trampling the forest in an effort to escape the pestering Mogus.
“And exactly how do I do that?” I query, taking another step back just to find that I’ve now pressed myself against Treno’s warm body.
Yep, he’s definitely naked.
“Well, you did say you wanted to punch things…” he answers, trailing off.
Shit. I did say that. Stupid mouth saying stupid things!
“True, but I meant a certain Archivist...not overgrown Tinkerbelle-mosquito hybrids!”I defend.
“Mogus are annoying to Cynas, but they’re no threat to us, flower. If you don’t want to kill them, then just do to them what they’re doing to the Cynas, annoy them enough that they move on and leave our herd alone. Let your gryphon take the reins. I think you’ll be surprised by how much fun you both will have.”
Treno steps away from me, and the next thing I know, his gryphon is leaping into the air and flying right for the Cynas in front of me. Treno’s gryphon is all white except his forelegs and beak, which are a tan-yellow. I’m mesmerized as he moves through the sky like some predatory cloud. The sun blinds me for a moment as it reflects off his feathers like it does the snow, and I swear the heavens sing down their approval as he moves through the sky. Or maybe that’s just Pigeon.
