On day two, we spent most of the day jumping off an outcropping of rock on the side of the waterfall. I would jump off as me and then mid fall, we would shift into Pidge. We acquired an audience around noon, or at least that’s when Dri and Sice started cheering and rating my form, as my naked ass leapt flying squirrel style out over the edge of the water.
Turns out, they’d been following me and Pidge around the whole time, laughing their asses off. I look around the clearing now. I know they’re here, and yet I couldn’t tell you where if my life depended on it. Pidge had a conniption fit when I asked them for help though. She went all flashy and angry and then made me promise to trust her.
That’s when she took things to a whole other level. Here Pigeon and I were, riding high on our perfect execution of a bunch of death-defying shit, when she flashed me the next lesson. She insisted that it was vitally important to clean my wings each time I partially shifted...with my tongue. I, being the dumbass that I am, trusted her. I was about four feather licks in when she finally admitted she was fucking with me.
“It took me the rest of the day to get the feather fuzz out of my mouth!”I shout at her when the image my thoughts conjure up sends her into another fit of gryphon purr-chuff giggles.
“Just for that, I’m going to put a stop to the explicit fantasies I’ve been allowing to play out in our head for the last three nights. You know, the ones about us with Treno...and Ryn. I was on board with your dirty little daydreams because I knew it made your kinky ass happy, but tonight...tonight I’m going to replay every detail ofDownton Abbeythat I can remember. How do you like them apples?”I threaten.
I get the distinct impression—from Pigeon’s new fit of gryphon giggles—that she might be calling me out on my insinuation thatshewas the only one enjoying those fantasies. I say nothing, and she gives me a condescending mental“mmm-hhmmmmm.”
“Anyway, that’s not the point,”I defend.“I want you to swear on all of your dirty gryphon porn hopes that this next challenge is serious,”I demand.
Pigeon sends me an image of her crossing over her heart with her talons and then raising them to the side like she’s being sworn in as a witness or something. I exhale a resigned breath and pinch my temples.
Fuck, this is going to hurt.
Pigeon takes over, and we rise easily into the sky. She circles the clearing we’ve been working in and then drops. As we dive, she replays the sequence that we’re trying to accomplish, and I concentrate on each step. Our wings shoot out at our sides, and we activate our feathered flaps and slow. I shove forward until I own our body again. My feet hit the ground, and a cheer roars inside of me when I don’t immediately biff it.
I get exactly three strides in...and then biff it. I smash into the ground hard, but my feet don’t get theawww fuckmemo, because they keep going. The next thing I know, I’ve folded myself ass over head, and I’m pretty sure I need to get very comfortable with this position, because I’ll never be able to move again. I grunt, stuck, as the dirt and debris settle around me.
“Sandra Bullock made this bobcat-pretzel thing look a hell of a lot sexier inTwo Weeks Notice,”I observe as Pigeon proceeds to lose her shit.
She just keeps showing me images of a two-by-four flipping end over end across the ground, as if that’s supposed to mean something to me.
Fucking chirpy little parakeet.
Just when I’m on the verge of shoutingI’ve fallen and I can’t get upand assume things can’t get any worse, a round of clapping starts up inside the trees to my right.
Just kill me now.
12
The clapping starts to sound louder, and I roll my eyes. Pigeon and I are giving Sice and Dri enough material for them to start a long and prosperous career in standup comedy. They’re the life of the tavern now, or so they say, regaling the patrons with stories of my epic fails and all the dumb shit Pigeon makes me do. I stay firmly planted in the pool of mortification I’m currently lounging in and wait for one of them to come help me up.
“Just when I think you can’t get any more interesting, Falon, you do something that proves just how wrong I was,” Ryn states, humor and amusement leaking out of his tone in spite of his obvious efforts to stem them.
I freeze, shocked that he’s here, and try to keep my cool despite my current predicament.
“That’ll teach you to underestimate me,” I chirp, rolling my eyes at him and at myself, because fucking hell, I really can’t move. My legs are wedged somehow in front of me, and I’m stuck in a fucked up backbend from hell.
I spit to clear my mouth of some of the dirt that’s invaded and try to think through how the fuck to get out of this.
“A little help here, Pidge?”I order.
She ignores me, focused fully on Ryn as he slowly moves closer to us.
“What are you doing here?” I ask on a grunt as I attempt to get my arms underneath me so I can de-pretzel myself. “Aren’t you supposed to be off fighting a war? Remind me which side you’re on though, because I still can’t tell,” I snark.
Ryn snorts out a laugh, and his leather boots come into my line of sight. He doesn’t immediately move to help me, and I growl.
This fucker is going to make me beg, I just know it.
“So what are you up to out here, unprotected and alone?” Ryn asks, and there’s a hint of something I can’t quite put my finger on in his tone.
Concern? Incredulity? Relief?
“Oh you know, just falling for my gryphon’s bullshit,” I answer casually and spit a little more dirt out of my mouth.
