The first leg of Loman’s journey meant figuring out where to go. He figured out the directions of the compass, but had little idea where he was relative to his colony’s cave. He remembered Artie mentioning that the healers’ camp was settled north of the Faiti camp, which was solidly in the middle of what used to be their territory. Loman’s best hope was to head southeast and pray that he would run into something familiar on the way. Very early on he was introduced to something that terrorised him mercilessly: walking. His short legs were not meant for carrying his body such long distances. They burned and ached fiercely after hardly a few hours of walking. His recent recovery exacerbated the issue. His legs were designed for hanging, not standing up.

Gods, if I could just fly. I’d be there in less than a night. But he couldn’t. He had to rely on his pathetic legs to get home, and would have to for the rest of his life. When day broke, he found the nearest hollow of a tree and stuffed himself inside, his lower back and legs feeling like their muscles had been dipped in acid.

He grew hungry. He hated to admit it, but he thirsted for Tildie’s milk. He’d suckle it straight out of her tit if he had the chance. His gut rumbled, and he became weak. He stumbled on a stream by chance. He bolted for the whispering current, waddling into it up to his knees. Please let there be fish. There was, but in no way was he capable of catching them, at least not as easily as he used to. Several times he stabbed his arm into the water, grabbing for the nearest fish. He came up fruitless every time. He lost his patience, roaring everytime a potential meal got away, mockingly wiggling their scaly tails at him. 

He gave up after several hours. His arm burned and ached at the shoulder. His still healing wounds felt ready to tear again. He was using way too much energy. If I could just dive from the damn trees. He looked at the branches of the canopy, hanging over the edge of the stream. One quick swoop from those and he could crash into the water, snapping his feet claws around a tasty morsel. He came to a tree and weighed his options. Could he climb it? It wasn’t too tall. It had a few light branches jutting randomly from its trunk. He took hold of a branch and tried to lift himself. He was far too weak. He dangled from the limb, panting and sweating. This isn’t going to work. Dammit. If only I could fly. He gave it one more try. The branch rewarded his efforts by snapping off at the hilt, sending him tumbling to the ground. He stumbled on his feet and plopped down on his butt, still holding the discarded limb.

“Fuck!” he hollered, and flung the branch into the dirt. It bounced and rolled away, it’s leaves fluttering off. He watched as the dust settled around it. He was so pissed, he felt like picking the thing up and thrashing it against the tree until it was nothing but a nub. Or better yet, I would beat up some damn fish with it.

His anger faded. He got a hold of his breath. Would that work? He gave the branch a closer inspection. It was knobbly at points, jutting abruptly at an angle and then straightening out. It wasn’t quite the perfect weapon, but it was something. He got up and picked it back up. It wasn’t too heavy. He whipped around. It was mobile enough. Why not? He broke off the small twigs coming off of it. He stepped on it and bent it until it snapped at the middle, making it more wieldable. He looked at the tip. It was not one but two nubby ends that he doubted would hurt a fish very much, no matter how hard he hit it. He snapped the tip off, leaving a jagged end sprouting strings of wood. Better, but I need it sharper.

He whittled at it with his thumb claw. The wood was just dry enough to peel away without snapping. He sat cross legged and got to work fashioning a genuine spear. With his tongue blepped in concentration, he slid his thumb claw along the wood, peeling the tip into a sharp point. He blew it off and gave it one last look. It’ll have to do. He got up and got back into the water. The fish were back, deciding that the danger was over. We’ll see about that. He held the spear above his head and aimed it down. The fish hovered about lazily, minding their business and distance. The water sloshed on the back of Loman’s calves, chilling him and bristling his fur. He’d been shivering ever since he got into the water. His brittle physique did little to keep him warm. Still, he did not lose focus. He kept his eye locked on the fish, waiting with a patience he’d earned years ago.

One fish swam by, just an arm’s length away from his shin. There we go. Come on you bastard. The oblivious fish came closer, and Loman struck. He flung his whole arm and shoulder into a vicious stab, puncturing the water with a sharp splish!  The spear struck the riverbed. Bubbles fizzed up the spear’s shaft and popped away. Down at the bottom where the spear was lodged between two stones in a cloud of silt, there was no fish.

“Damn,” Loman muttered. He didn’t lose faith. He pulled the spear out and moved to a different spot to wait some more. He repeated this process again and again, swearing each time that it would be the one to succeed. Eventually he nailed one, pinning it to the river bed as it thrashed wildly.

“YES!” he screamed. Thrill buzzed through him as he quickly reached down for his squirming prize. His spear shifted, and the little fish slipped out from the spear and darted away. “No!” He reached after it, hopelessly far off. He dove straight into the water. He came up empty. He stood up from the water, a dripping, shivering, swearing mess. “Goddammit! Fucking son of a-! Shit! Fuck!”

He got back to work, undeterred. He stabbed at every fish that came near, getting closer and closer, vowing not to fuck up his next catch. Finally, he nailed one dead center, again pinning it to the river bed. He squished it as hard as he could, not daring to celebrate just yet. He twisted and pushed the spear until he felt the fish’s bones crunch beneath it. He slowly squatted and held the spear down. The next part was risky. He had to grab the fish with his paw and yank it out before it got away. He didn’t think it would go anywhere after such a thorough crunching, but by the gods he wasn’t taking any chances. With his paw gripped on the spear and underwater, he let go and snagged at the fish. His fist closed, and he felt the familiar wriggle of scales in his grip. He yanked his arm from the water. Droplets of water sprinkled from his clenched fist and created an angelic rainbow. He held his prize over his head and cheered.

“YES! WHOOOOO!” He quickly made his way out of the water, hopping his legs like a giddy cowboy until he made it to the shore. There was no way he was letting it slip from his grasp and back into the water. He fell to his knees and immediately chowed down. The nasty grit of scales and fish bone crunched between his jaws. The taste was awful. Fishy intestines squirted in his mouth and slipped down his throat. Scales and fragments of bones lodged between his teeth. It was all of him not to gag. But he didn’t. He kept chewing, whimpering with joy as a single grateful tear seeped down his cheek. He swallowed and sighed like a man experiencing a heavy orgasm. The presence of something finally being in his rumbling stomach was incredible.

He wiped his lips with his forearm and checked the water. His spear was settled at the bottom, patiently waiting for its master’s return. He picked it up, and looked at it proudly. It wasn’t perfect, but it got the job done. He remembered what Leonard had told him about escaping his niche, about finding out new ways to hunt. Thanks, Leonard. I owe you more than either of us could imagine. Loman dried himself off and continued on his journey, staying close to the stream as he continued southeast.

The stream ran out eventually, but not before Loman fed himself from it two more times. With no water source, he had to resort to new food sources. He found a beehive and jabbed it down from a tree branch with his spear. He kept his distance from the angry occupants as best he could. He stabbed the spear into the cracked orb, globbing it in honey. Several bees clung to the smothered tip, and he gobbled them up. Damn, why the hell doesn’t everyone do this? The few resulting stings on his lips and tongue told him why. Even after he left few welts on his face and other places, he decided it was worth it.

After getting as much as he could from that hive, he continued his journey. He began recognizing landmarks, taller trees, hills, and open fields. He encountered other beasts, deer, goats, pigs, cattle. He kept his distance. He was constantly on the lookout for Rothor. If any of them saw him and his battle scars, there was no doubt they would know he fought for the Faiti.

His wounds were healing. He found a small pond and looked at himself for the first time. His face was nasty, but he was prepared for that. Most appalling was his deep, black eyehole. Nobody wants to see that. He reminded himself to get some cloth for a cover. As far as he could tell, the wounds on his face had scarred over. So had his side, which was half grown over with fur. Time to go. He started with his face, gently snipping each stitch with his index claw. They came off easily enough; when he pulled them out there was no pain. It was pretty satisfying. He cleared his face, then the claw marks across his chest, and finally the vertical scar up his side and his stump. He let the discarded threads fall into the pond. He watched as they lackadaisically floated on the surface. One by one they sank into the water, leaving nothing but his solemn reflection and the sky above him. Every remnant of his stay at the healers’ camp was officially gone. He took a deep breath, collected his spear, and continued his journey.

He finally got a firm idea of where he was relative to his colony's cave. He estimated how many nights of walking he had left. Excitement as well as apprehension grew. He visualized his family celebrating his return. They had to have thought he was dead. One of his pals had probably witnessed his mauling. Anyone who saw that would’ve written him off as a goner for sure. I’ll be a hell of a pleasant surprise.

But there were his wounds to consider. Any joy to see him alive would be accompanied by the sorrow over his horrible disfigurement and handicap. They probably wouldn’t recognize him at first. What bat comes walking into a cave on their two feet? Not Loman, who prized his flying skills. And what about his flying skills? He couldn’t anymore. That’s what tugged at his anxiety the hardest. Would they accept him? A bat that couldn’t fly couldn’t hunt, at least not in the traditional sense. Loman had proven it wasn’t impossible; maybe he could convince them he wasn’t totally useless.

His hopes and doubts battled another in his mind as he got closer and closer to home. Finally, after walking into a clearing, he spotted the hill that held his colony’s cave. It was an innocuous looking lump in the middle of an uneven field, but sitting at the long end of that hill was the small opening to which hundreds of his colony-mates flew in and out of every night. It was close to dawn. Everyone would be getting ready to sleep, hanging off the moist limestone ceiling or walls with their loved ones latched to their bellies.

Loman gripped his spear. He took a deep breath through his crooked nose. Here we go. Please gods, let them be happy to see me. He made his way to the cave, resisting the urge to break into a full sprint. He didn’t want to greet everyone out of breath. He did walk at a brisk pace, however, undeniably eager.

He watched the side of the hill where the entrance of the cave was hidden, wondering if he would see anyone returning home. There was nobody that he could see. It was late, after all. Everyone would be inside by now. He got closer and closer, already visualizing the entrance of the cave filled with so many faces turning to see him, then filling with surprise. The mouth of the cave was situated under an overhang where the hill abruptly fell off into a limestone quarry. The entrance wasn’t big; no more than three bats would be able to fly through it at a time.

He rounded the hill and spotted the quarry. The pit in his stomach grew and twisted. This is it. He stumbled his way down a small drop leading into the quarry and finally, after so, so long, faced the mouth of the cave. Loman got closer, and looked directly into the cavern he called home.

There was nothing. It was empty. Nobody to greet him, nobody to see him, nobody to show joy at his return. His anxiety subsided into a bone-chilling dread. No. No no nonononono. He threw his spear to the ground and ran for the cave. He hobbled past the small boulders sitting at the entrance and came inside. His feet felt the moist limestone floor. His nose crinkled at the familiar odor of guano. His eyes adjusted and saw not a living soul on the ceilings or walls. In desperation, he echo-located.

“Keeeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeet.” The pulse of his voice bounded off of the walls and created an image. From the mouth all the way into the deepest corner, he could hear the shape of every curve and bend, down to the faintest pebble. There was nothing, nobody.

He squeaked again. “Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeet. Keeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.” The image came back at him with an even fiercer clarity. There wasn’t a soul to be found. He stepped deeper into the cave. He hardly minded the nasty squelch of dung between his toes. A part of him noticed that it was old and dry, over a week old. He looked around, hoping to see some trickster bat hiding behind a rock to surprise him. Surprise! We knew you were coming! That didn’t happen. There was only silence made even more mocking by the lonesome drip of water.

He squeaked some more, hoping to hear some forgotten or missed crevice where someone could be hidden. He heard the same thing everytime, all the way up to being forced to stop at the end of the cave. He stared at the wall of rock, tessellated with scales of rock glossed over with moisture. He felt as empty as the cave he stood in, noiseless and inconsequential.

He went back to the mouth of the cave and stared up the side leading out of the quarry. He could just see the top fringe of the forest trees where the sun was lifting over the horizon, dousing the sky in red. He heard no thrum of approaching wings. As he watched the shadows lengthen, he started to truly feel just how exhausted he was. His heart was heavy, and the soles of his feet ached. Acknowledging that nobody was coming, he trudged back into the cave. He found a foothold close to the bottom of the wall where he could hang from. He just had to reach it.
Climbing up the slippery wall was something he’d never done, nor anyone else he knew for that matter. There was no need. He tried for several minutes to scratch his way up, using every minute finger hold as a grip. He couldn’t get close. The moist wall and his lone arm forbade it. He gave up and huddled into a corner behind a boulder. He wrapped his wing around himself and nuzzled into it. He expected himself to cry, but he was too tired. He was too tired to do anything. With no one to wish him a good day, he drifted to sleep.

*	*	*

He woke up to a cave just as hollow as he had found it. He suspected as much. The sun was already down. His exhaustion had him sleep well into the night. He willed himself to get up. What mow? What am I supposed to do? Around this time he and his pals would be preparing to hunt or fish. With hardly a choice, he gathered his spear and walked his way to his usual fishing spot. 

Travelling at night on foot was dangerous thanks to the owls. Flying gave him a chance to outmaneuver any ambush, but on the ground he was vulnerable. If he wanted to be safe from owls, he was better off operating at day. Of course, that didn’t remove the danger from predators entirely, but owls were bats’ biggest threat. Being at the healers’ camp and the travel home had fucked with his sleep cycle so badly that he decided he may as well make the switch.

He spent his first night spearfishing. He tried not looking up at the overhanging tree branches, where he’d normally hang and wait for fish. No point in reminiscing. He successfully caught four fish, all in a timeframe shorter than if he’d been waiting from the branches. Damn. How did we not think of this sooner? He ate two of the fish at the river and carried the other two back to the cave. When he got back he realized he had done so out of habit. There was nobody to share with. Eat half, take half, that was the motto. With no other bat politely asking for a share, he sat down and bitterly munched on his remaining meal.

Nights passed where he woke up later and later, until finally he started waking up at dawn. He found his sleep cycle, and stuck with it. Every day he practiced scaling the wall to reach the ceiling. He got better and better, successfully latching on to finger holds leading up to the place where his feet could hang one by one. His arm got stronger. It started feeling less fatigued by the end of each day. His feet got better at latching onto holds. The day came where he finally could hang off the walls and enjoy the almost forgotten sensation of hanging upside down. Finally he did cry, tears of joy as they were.

He tried climbing the trees next to his river so he could attempt to dive on fish. That proved more difficult, however. When he got a foothold on an overhanging branch, he fell towards the water. To call the attempt a dive would be charitable. One wing proved inadequate for a controlled descent. He crashed into the water and came up a sputtering, swearing mess. Spearfishing it is then.

Even after his embarrassing failure, he was thrilled with hanging fully from a branch, something he couldn’t do in the cave thanks to the lack of feasible routes to the ceiling. He practiced climbing the same tree, and then others, purely to enjoy hanging. He moved on to other, more difficult ones. It was all to keep himself entertained. It was a rough challenge, one that often found him flat on his back in a plume of dust. The challenge, however, was what kept him going. He started spending nights in the trees, until finally he turned his back on the cave, never to even wander by it again.

One day, in the middle of fishing, he spotted a trio of deer sipping from the river. They spotted him and kept a wary eye on him at first. Soon they regarded him as a mere oddity. A one-winged bat in the water hardly posed a threat, spear or not. They could easily outrun him.

Maybe they know something. Loman wondered. It was doubtful, but it was worth a shot. He trudged his way to the bank they were on and tossed his spear aside, not wanting to be threatening. They saw him coming and stood upright. They were all female, sporting impressively lithe frames of sinewy muscle that could launch them into a run in an instant.

Loman lifted his hand and showed his palm. “I mean no harm!” he shouted. “I just want to talk”

One of them whispered something urgent to the others. Loman heard another hiss “no!”

“Go away!” barked one of them. They sounded afraid. One sharp move and they would flee.

Loman came to a halt. “I only have a question. Answer me and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Ask some other beast. We have no time for the likes of you.” snapped another.

“Then spare me a little, please. That’s all I ask. I am alone and hobbled. I pose no threat.” The oldest trick in the book was distracting a potential victim with someone who was bait. Their cohorts would surround the unsuspecting prey and launch an ambush. Loman had to convince them that wasn’t the case. “I was fishing earlier. I ditched my spear. If I intended harm you would not have seen me.”

They murmured to each other. Loman thought he heard the word “rabies”. “What’s a bat doing here in the day? Why do you fish like that?”

Loman gestured to his missing wing. “I am crippled. I cannot fly. I am a victim of the Faiti-Rothor feud. I fought for the Faiti. I am unable to hunt the way I was created to.”

That got a reaction from them. The deer had suffered dearly since the Rothor took power. While they certainly didn’t like the Faiti, they were far more impartial to them than the clan that replaced them. Loman’s wounds sure looked like the work of a wolf’s. 

The three deer shared some words. One of them hissed sharply, “Are you serious? You can’t!”

She was hushed by another, who looked at Loman. Her eyes were narrowed mistrustfully, but she appeared ready to listen. “Ask your question. Let it be the only one.”

Loman sighed with relief. “Thank you. I’m incredibly grateful. My respect to you and your clan.”

“Ask your question.”

“Yes. I belonged to a colony of bats who lived here before the conflict. I was wounded and taken care of by a band of healers. I returned a few weeks ago and they’re not here. Have you any idea what might have happened to them?” He expected a sharp ‘no’. Instead he got a threesome of blank stares.

One doe looked at her comrades and muttered a question. The other two shrugged. She sighed and looked back at Loman. Her expression was grave. “The Rothor brought with them many other species who wished to lay claim to this territory. Any of the same kind who were around were forced to leave. That’s likely what happened to your colony. You won’t find any of them in what was Faiti land,” she said bluntly. “I’m sorry.”

Loman’s arm slowly slumped down back to his side. “Thank you,” he said, and then turned around to grab his spear. He considered fishing some more, but couldn’t muster the desire to. He climbed his tree and hung from a branch. All he could think about was if his colony got away in time. That’s all he did think about for the days to come.

That was Loman’s time after returning home. Fishing, climbing, sleeping, and surviving. He was alone, avoiding predators and any form of company. He became an adept fisher, even more so than when he could fly. He grew strong, being able to climb more and more difficult trees. He stayed on the move, trekking up and down the banks of rivers and around ponds. He became a ghost, nicknamed ‘one-wing’ by the beasts who rumored about him. Nobody knew his name, nobody asked. It was better that way. He fashioned a green cloth he used to cover his wounds and became even more recognizable. He had few run-ins with predators. His proficiency with a spear made him an ill-advised target.

The seasons passed and so did the memories through his mind. He thought about the colony, the Faiti, the wolf who mauled him, Leonard, Artie, Tildie, and Tetha. He tried pushing it away. When he realized he couldn't, he climbed and fished. He did whatever it took to distract him from the past and from the loneliness.

Another dispute arose when an influx of predators began immigrating. The Rothor were thinly spread ever since the acquisition of their new territory. They had hardly the manpower to enforce their borders or their authority. Deer and other herbivores emigrated, leaving a drastic imbalance. Disputes were rampant between predator clans of all species. Several wolves of the Rothor broke off to form their own clans elsewhere, further reducing their manpower.

Loman was caught in the middle of the anarchy, in spite of his best efforts to remain isolated. He fended off wolves, lynxes, bears, eagles, and lizards alike, all on his own. He survived, but wouldn’t last long in such a chaotic zone full of beasts wanting him dead.

Word got around about the lake in the Seemandas forest, far north of the Suul territory. That’s where everyone was headed, or at least as far away from the badlands, as they were now being labeled, as they could. Loman hardly had a choice. It was as good a place as any, much better than this one. There was nothing left. There was no colony, just bad memories that would continue to haunt him like the phantom pain still did on occasion.

	With no ceremony, Loman began his trek north, forever leaving behind the place he once called home.

*	*	*

That was eight weeks ago. He had made it through the Suul territory without incident and soon passed into the heavily forested Seemandas, where the trees reached into the sky, nearly knifing into the crisp blue above. Signs of animal life whittled away, and Loman grew to appreciate the relative silence.

He climbed the tree where he now sat, looking back on the events that robbed his flight and led him here. The sun was gone now, slowly pulling back the lit blanket covering the stars. His feet weren’t as sore. He flexed them and determined that he could hold himself up with them now. 

With a stretch of his arm, he yawned and stood up. He wrapped his toes tightly around the branch, gave a few hops to determine if it was sturdy enough, then casually fell to the side and swung down beneath the limb, his feet holding firm. He wrapped himself in his wing and closed his eye. Tomorrow’s another day. Maybe another week or two and I’ll be there. Hopefully. He yawned again, and let himself relax. It was time to sleep.

fwip fwip fwip fwip

Loman’s eye shot open. His ears slung upright and twitched.

Fwip fwip fwip fwip

Wings. Bat wings. They were fluttering fast and coming right at him. He bent at the waist and grabbed the branch. He pulled himself up as fast as he could and wriggled back on top of it. Balancing on all three of his limbs, he darted his head around and squeaked. “keeeeeeeeeeet . keeeeee-eeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeet.” The surrounding treetops formed in his mind as he swung his face left and right, twitching his ears around to hear where every branch and leaf was.

fwip fwip fwip fwip

He snapped his head to his upper right. The newcomer was above the trees, flying at a cruising speed directly for him. The beat of their wings gave him an accurate, if erratic, estimate of their size. They were smaller than him, in weight and wingspan. That did not mean they weren’t a threat. Coming straight at him wasn’t a coincidence either. They knew he was there.

“Keeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeeet.” he squeaked directly at them. He let them know he knew they were coming. Any closer and he would let loose a threat call, a much sharper, louder shriek.

“keeeeeeeet,” was their response. A flat, unwavering tone. I see you, it said. I am not a threat. The approaching bat reached Loman’s tree and began to circle above. He kept his eye on them, finally able to see what they looked like. It was too dark to make out precise details, but he made out two enormous ears. A long-eared bat, for sure.

He squeaked at them. “Keeeeeee-eeeet.” What do you want?

“Keeee-eee-eeet.” To talk.

Loman pondered what to do. If this was a real threat, they wouldn’t have made themselves so apparent. Loman heard them coming from a good distance away. Any bat could’ve flown much closer without being noticed if they wanted to. No bat, however, would approach some random individual just to talk, especially of a different species. Loman stood up. If the bat pulled any funny business, or if he heard anyone else approach, they were dead.

“Keeeeeeeet.” Approach.

The long-eared bat tightened their circle around the tree and banked into a spiral. They got closer and closer until they started buffering their wings to slow down. Loman got a closer look, and saw for the first time their sheet white fur and wings. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a white coat like that. His heart jumped in his chest. There’s no damn way.

The newcomer fluttered down to the branch hanging just above Loman’s head, latched onto it with their feet, and dangled in front of him. They gave a mighty stretch with their pale wings and then wrapped themselves up.

Tetha smiled. “Hello, stranger.”

Loman tried to hide his complete shock, and with it his bubbling joy. “Hello Tetha. This is a surprise.”

She giggled. “You’re telling me. I heard someone echoing earlier and decided to check it out. Never in a million years did I think it would be you.”

“You heard me from that far away?”

“Uhhh, hello?” She wiggled her enormous listeners.

“Oh, yeah.”

“So, what brings you out to these parts on your lonesome?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“You know why I’m out here. Travelling to see who needs help.”

“You’re still with those guys?”

She shrugged. “Haven’t found a reason to leave yet.”

“Leonard and the others are still there?”

“Them and some new ones too. A bonafide band of helpers, we are. Not much out here, though. Real sparse in the mountains.”

“I noticed.”

“So tell me, Loman. What are you out here for?”

“Travelling, like you.”

“Why?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I haven’t seen you in years and I want to know. Come on, don’t be such a sour snout about it. I wanna know how you’ve been. Don’t you wanna know how I’ve been?”

Of course I do. I’ve wondered that many nights. “Sure, I guess. I’m headed for a lake I’ve heard about, near the mountains. You know about it?” Please say yes. Please tell me coming up here was worth it.

“Yeah. I’ve been there, if it’s the same one you’re thinking about.”

Oh sweet spirits, thank you. “Well, the territory I lived in went to shit. Predators from all over flocked in and things got messy. Wasn’t safe for a crippled bat to be on his own.” She flinched at the word crippled. She clearly found it harsh. It was almost all Loman described himself as.

“What happened to your colony?”

“Vanished. Up and left when the Rothor took over. Bats from their territory came and claimed things as their own, so my guys made a fly for it. I got there and there was nobody. Been living on my own these past two years.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Loman shrugged. “I’ve been alright. I learned to fish real good. Climbing too.” What he didn’t tell her was that she was the first bat he’d talked to since, well, he last talked to her. Becoming a day bat removed all contact with his brethren.

“Well, you look great, real strong. Your wing has definitely made up for your losses.”

“It has, hasn't it?” He flexed his bicep, showing off his chiseled, venous arm.

Tetha’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, it sure has. Can I touch it?”

Loman lifted an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Cause it looks cool. I wanna touch it. Please?”

It was an odd request. Bats didn’t ask others if they could feel their arms. Maybe it was a  long-eared thing. “Sure.”

He scooted closer and held his bent arm out. She reached for it and felt around his dense knot of muscle. Her palms were so soft; the brush of her claws tickled. A nauseating wave of goose prickles bloomed through Loman’s body as she caressed his arm, enjoying every edge and bulge. This was the first time he’d been touched this way in so long. He flashed back to clinging to his mother’s belly, hanging from the ceiling in his old cave.

Face hot and stomach roiling, he backed away. Tetha didn’t protest. She noticed his queer reaction, and left him alone about it.

“You’ve done really well,” she said, wrapping herself back up in her wings. “How were you able to get up here?”

He tried to speak, but found his throat was painfully tight. He cleared it. “Erhm… I climbed.”

“Up the side?”

“Yeah.” How else would I do it?

She looked down at the almost sheer drop of the tree trunk. “Wow, that must’ve been hard.”

“It was.” he said, gesturing at his scraped up chest and belly.

“That’s how you were able to get this strong. You do this every day?”

“Every day, before nightfall.”

“Nightfall?”

“Yeah. I sleep at night now.”

“Why?”

“Easier this way when you can’t fly. No owls in the day, or at least not as many. Fishing’s easier. Quieter at night.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Why don’t you hang?”

“I do. I got down when you showed up. I couldn’t exactly fly away to defend myself.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.”

“Do you wanna hang from there? I’ll come down.”

“No. I’ll come up there.” Before she could protest, he stood up and grabbed onto the branch above him and pulled himself up so he could latch his feet on. He swung down and turned to face her. He could look at her normally now, face to face. He was reminded how gorgeous her nose was. He could see his reflection in the obsidian pools of her eyes.

She smiled, brightening up in a way that made Loman feel queasy. “Better?” she asked.

“Much better.” Now that I can really see your face. 

He kicked himself on the inside. Stop! She’s just another bat. Calm down.

“You can take off those cloths,” she said.

“The what?”

“That cloth. On your face and your body.”

He looked at himself, wondering what the hell she was talking about. Then he remembered the green cloth he had fashioned to hide his wounds. It had been there so long that he had regarded it as a part of him as natural as his leg.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I leave these on all the time, unless they need cleaning.”

“You can take them off though, I wanna see how well you’ve healed.”

He bulked.“No. I’ve healed fine.”

“I bet you have, now let me see.”

“Why?”

“‘Why?’ Why why why why? Always ‘why’ with you. Just let me see it.”

“They’re fine, I promise.”

Her soft face darkened into a scowl. Suddenly her pretty black eyes became coals of evil. “Take the damn thing off. Loman, I’ve seen way worse. Hell, I’ve seen this when it was way worse. I saw you right after you had been chewed up by that wolf. There’s nothing that will shock me any worse than I have been. Show me.”

Loman frowned bitterly. “I don’t want to.”

“Why?” It was her turn to ask.

His lips quivered as anger bubbled in his belly. He snarled as the words formed in his throat, no longer held back by their emotional burden. His fists clenched.

“Because I’m ugly.” he spat finally.

Tetha’s scowl immediately crumpled into a look of pure hurt. “W-what?”

“You heard what the fuck I said.” He was angry now, angry at her, angry at the world, angry at the Rothor, angry at being alive, angry at himself. He was just so angry. “I’m an ugly cripple. I can’t fly or do anything. What kinda bat can’t fly?” The first tear seeped from his one eye and crept up his forehead where it dropped off of his hairline and fell to the forest floor. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, not being able to do the thing you loved? My whole life I was the pride of my colony because of how I flew. It was all I had. Then I volunteered for the Faiti, and I lost my wing, and you had to go and fucking save my life when you knew I was better off dead.”

“Loman, I didn’t…” She stammered for words. “We saved you because we wanted to help. We never thought you were better off dead.”

“You fucking should have.” The tears were free flowing now. His throat was a vice and the roof of his mouth grew rigid. “I came home and my whole colony was gone. I didn’t have a damn soul to talk to for so long. I had nowhere else to go. I couldn’t find another colony, not if I couldn’t fucking fly. And even if I did, what colony would take a, ugly, crippled freak like me?” He spat the word ‘freak’ with such venomous derision that he sounded on the verge of retching it. “Gods, why didn’t you let me die? Why didn’t you let me die?”

Tetha had no answer, only an agonised look of guilt contorting her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but she was too afraid. No amount of “I’m sorry” would’ve helped.

Loman grunted angrily and reached for the branch he was on to lower himself down. He wanted so badly to just leap away to another tree entirely so he could hide his shame. Better yet, he could just dive headfirst to the ground and be done with everything, just end it all. No, you can’t even do that, you coward. You’d fuck it up anyway. Then Tetha would save you and keep you alive as an even more worthless cripple. So instead he just straddled the branch and rested his forehead against the trunk, his back to her. He sat there and thumped his head against the tree, cringing as he wept away his shame. So pathetic. So fucking pathetic. I just wanna be dead. Why did she have to save him? Why did she have to show up, here of all places? Why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

He waited for her to leave, but she didn’t. He felt her presence behind him the whole time, staring knives into his back. “Just leave me alone,” he growled. 

She didn’t. She just hung there, totally silent and unmoving. Eventually she came off the branch, but instead of flying away she got on top of the one Loman was sitting on. He felt the branch wobble as she tried to maintain her balance; bats weren’t used to sitting on branches this way. She steadied, then scooted her way up to him.

He gritted his teeth. He was about ready to snap at her to leave, but didn’t want to spare her any more of his grief. He’d shamed himself enough. He felt the soft touch of her claws on his back fur as she reached to comfort him. He angrily whipped his shoulder back, and she stopped. They sat in silence for several more moments.

Finally Tetha spoke. “I’m sorry, Loman. Truly I am. I know you probably don’t care what I have to say. You probably hate me, and you have every reason to. I think I would too.” Loman didn’t respond. He tried stabilising his breathing so he wouldn’t shake as much. “I just wanted to tell you that, when we saved you, we did it because we wanted you to live. That’s it. We didn’t do it because we needed you for anything, and we didn’t think we would ruin your life in any way. We never think of those things. We just help people because we think it’s the right thing. That’s what Leonard told me when I met him. I believed him, and I still do. We try not to think about who it is we’re saving or what they’ve done. We don’t contemplate the lives they live or anything like that. We help them because we want to, because we think we have to. You might think it’s stupid, I did at one point, but we’ll always do it because we think we’re saving people.

“That doesn’t change what happened to you, I know. I just wanted to tell you that we kept you alive because we cared for you. When I saw you at that den all torn up, it broke my heart to see another bat dead because he got caught up in that pointless mess. Then Artie said you were alive, and you won’t believe how relieved I was. We worked so hard keeping you alive, and I can’t tell you the joy I felt when we succeeded.

“I got really invested in you. I knew that if you died, I would’ve been devastated. I guess it was because you were a bat too, I don’t know. It was so amazing watching you heal up and get better. I was so proud, both of you and myself. I felt like I really saved you. 

“But I had no idea what turmoil you must’ve been going through. I didn’t consider what painful life you would’ve had to live after that because we helped you. I’ve taken flying for granted so much that I never thought about what it was like to not be able to. Gods, if only I had a clue. I swear I would’ve been alongside you the whole way. I would’ve helped you anyway I could’ve. I wouldn’t have let you be alone for so long. When you left without saying goodbye, I was angry at you for being inconsiderate. I didn’t even think that…” She paused. “I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry.”

Loman hung his head in silence. Now it was his turn to be wracked with guilt. He had acted so childishly. Blaming Tetha was pointless. Blaming anyone for that matter, himself included, was just as foolish. It was just an awful awful situation that had embittered him for so long. Tetha was just unlucky enough to be the one it spilled over on to.

Loman gulped and wiped his face of tears. He took a deep breath and sat astride the branch so that he could see her. Her face was reddened with tears. Her beautiful eyes shimmered in a brilliant gloss. He felt like he had ruined them.

“I’m sorry,” he said nasally.

“Don’t apologize,” she insisted, her own nose clogging up. She sniffled. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I snapped at you.”

“It’s OK. I’m not mad at you. I shouldn’t have told you to take off the cloths.”

“You’re fine, I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.”

“No, I should’ve respected your modesty.”

They’d started an endless loop of apologies. Loman tried to stop it.

“I just... I get really upset about looking like this. I don’t like people seeing my scars. I get self-conscious.”

“I know. That’s OK. Loman?” She rested her paw on his thigh. “You’re not ugly. You’re not a freak. You didn’t do this. It’s not your fault.”
A single moment passed, and Loman’s face crumpled. His vision of Tetha warped as the tears returned in full. There was no anger, just sadness and regret. He wept, releasing the floodgate of emotion he’d dammed up into a lake. Tetha reached out and pulled him into her bosom. He latched onto her, clutching at her back as he buried his face into her miraculously soft belly fur. He cried and he cried, soaking her fur in his long bridled misery. 

She rocked him, cooing softly as she petted his head. “I know, I know. I’m here. It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry... Ohhh I’m so sorry...”

“I know, I know. You don’t have to be anymore. It’s OK.”

“I’m sorry…..”

“Shhhh,”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

He sat cradled in her chest for sometime, weeping away until he was mercifully released of his guilt. He sat up and sniffled crudely, wiping the tears and snot away. He steadied his breath and saw the face-sized wet spot on her fur.
	“Ugh, I’m sorry.” he groaned.

“I know, you don’t have to be.”

“No, no, no,” he said, chuckling a bit. “I mean about that.” He pointed to the wet spot.

She looked down at it. “Oh! Don’t worry about that. You’re fine. Do you feel better now?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He downplayed how much lighter he felt now, like an anvil had been lifted from his chest. Of course, the pain still lingered. It would never go away completely, not for the rest of his life. But now he could let go. He had someone to confess to. Two years. That was a dreadfully long time to be so alone. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome. I bet that’s been hiding inside of you for a long time.”

“You have no idea.” He sniffled one last time. “You know, I can take off this stuff if you really want me to.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, but I kinda want to, now. I’ve got nothing to hide. Hell, I just cried like a baby. I don’t think there’s anything I can do worse than that.”

Tetha giggled. “There’s an infinite amount of things worse than crying. Stop being a stupid man.”

Loman chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Here we go.”  He kicked his leg over the branch and straddled it to face her. She did the same. He grabbed the lace wrapped around his forehead holding the cloth to his face. He pulled it up, and freed his twisted visage. Tetha betrayed no reaction. Like she said, she had seen it when it was far worse. His eye hole was an ominous black cavern surrounded with pale, grisly scar tissue ranging from his brutalized cheek to his temple. His nose was crooked, and through the hole in his cheek Tetha could see some of his teeth missing.

He moved to the cape draped over his shoulder. It was tied to him by a string looped over his right collar and down to beneath his left armpit. He lifted it up and over his head, totally freeing himself of any cover. The immediate highlight of his torso wound was the pinkish crater of flesh where his arm had been. It was strung underneath by a thin scar running all the way down to his waist. It was mostly overgrown by his soft gray hair.

He felt naked, terribly exposed. He worried that he would start to regret showing her this. She saw how uncomfortable he looked. She scooted closer and gingerly lifted his chin with her knuckle, as if examining it.

“Well, you’ve healed nicely, although what can I say? We knew what we were doing. I can hardly even see your membrane scar. Can you eat Ok?”

“Yeah.”

“Great! Then everything’s as good as it should be. You’re fine.”

He managed a smile. “Thanks.”

She didn’t say anything. With no warning or even thought, she leaned over and kissed him. His ears snapped back against his head and his face went red. A vibrant wave of light seemed to erupt in his belly, shivering his flesh and bristling his fur. In spite of himself, he grinned like an idiot.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I did it anyway.”

“Heh, thanks.” He recalled the time she booped his nose when he was rehabilitating. “You know, the reason I left without saying goodbye that time wasn’t because I was having a rough time over my arm.”

“Oh?” she said, surprised. “What was it?”

“Heh,” Shit. Stop blushing. “Well, to tell you the truth. I was kinda… jealous. Jealous of you helping other patients after you had helped me. I guess I got this stupid idea in my head that you were mine, and seeing you help that lynx fellow kinda irked me. I told myself it was nothing, so I left before it could get me any more worked up. Sorry, I know that’s stupid, but I just thought I had to get out of there before I got too attached.”

Tetha stared at him for a moment, then burst out into a snorted laughter. That wasn’t the reaction Loman had anticipated. He started blushing even harder.

 “That’s funny?” he demanded.

She nodded and composed herself. “Oh, gods! That’s so cute. You have no idea.”

“Cute?” He was almost offended.

“Yeah, adorable.”

“You think jealousy is cute?”

“Well, no. I just think it’s cute how a big rough and tumble guy like you can have a crush on me and get jealous.”

Crush? Rough and tumble? Those were terms Loman’s brain could not fathom being used in the same sentence, least of all when regarding him. 

He pouted and looked away. “Whatever.”

“Whatever.” she mocked, and blepped at him.

He scoffed and folded his wing. “I’m not cute.”

“Whatever you say, mister man. Do you still have a crush on me?”

His heart sank. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Do you still have a crush on me?” Her amiable mien was gone. Her eyebrow was cocked inquisitively.

“I mean, I guess.” 

“You guess? Yes or no, Loman.”

Fuck. Why are you doing this? You already made me cry, dammit. “I mean… I don’t know. That was so long ago. I thought about you a lot.”

“You thought about me?”

“Yeah,” he confessed. “You were on my mind almost everyday. You helped me the most out of everyone, at least from what I saw. You were the last bat I ever got to talk to. Really, you’re the only beast I’ve had a conversation with these past few years. I figured I would never see you again, so I tried not to think about you, but I couldn’t. Just before you showed up now, I looked back on how everything played out for me. I thought about you.” He chuckled. “Didn’t think that would actually make you show up.”

“Oh.” She thought about it for a moment. He couldn’t tell if she was flattered or disturbed. Maybe both. “Ya know, I thought about you too.”

Loman scoffed. “Please.”

“No, really, I did. Like I told you, you were the first bat I had ever treated. I felt so bad for you. In the days after you left I couldn’t stop thinking about you, hoping you were Ok. Just like you, I tried to forget, but I couldn’t, not all of the time. I’d pray to the spirits that you’d be OK. You have no idea how happy I am to see that you are.”

Loman smiled. Even after all of the countless times Tetha infiltrated his thoughts, he hardly ever considered that she would be thinking of him. “Yes,” he said finally.

“Yes what?” she asked.

“Yes, I guess I still have a crush on you.” It sounded so silly saying it out loud, but he didn’t care anymore.

It was her turn to blush. “Oh, good. That… makes me happy.”

Loman scooted up to her. He took her paw and kissed her. Her eyes fluttered shut and she wrapped him in her wings. His whole body was electrified. Her lips were impossibly soft. He slid his paw up her arm to her shoulder where he descended down her furry torso. The velveteen coat of fur whispered under his delicate touch. 

Goose prickles erupted across her, stiffening her nipples. She explored his body in turn, grabbing onto his steely arm where she could feel every single individual sinew twitch and bulge as he caressed her. Their tongues met, sparring within each others’ mouths. She hummed into him, desperate for more of his touch. She pulled his paw to the fragile swell of her breast. He cupped it with loving grace, tingling his palm against her rosy pink button. She broke from his lips, only to gasp as his touch.

“Loman…” she whispered.

He kissed along her cheek and down to her jaw. She swooned to the side, exposing the delicacy of her soft neck. He kissed and suckled there, aware of the steady thrum of her artery. He felt his own heart pound away in his chest. The blood rushing through his ears was almost deafening. His body reacted appropriately, and his manhood sprouted out from his loins.

He looked down at the pink pillar jutting from his furry sheath, sitting atop his masculine fruit. His penis was a blinding pink, tapered in shape with a tiny blood red slit sitting at the apex. She looked down and saw it too. He blushed fiercely. 

“I’m sorry,” he huffed
.
“Shhh.” She gently pushed him down by the shoulders, laying him down on the branch.

“Tetha?” he stuttered. His eyes widened and his heart truly began to pound.

“It’s OK. I want this.” She massaged her paw up and down the base of his abdomen around where his manhood laid flat on his belly. “Do you?”

He gulped. He felt ready to choke. “Y-yeah.”

“Good.” She straddled his legs. She took his penis between her fingers and delicately stroked it. He gasped at her touch, feeling the tiniest zap of pleasure jolt up his spine. His face was on fire.

She looked so beautiful, like a goddess. The newly risen moon behind her gave her already shimmering white coat a ghostly aura. Her obsidian eyes glistened majestically. She lifted herself up. He saw her wiry thatch of fur and her chalice just beneath. It was opened partly, exhaling a steady breath of her womanly heat. It emulated her desire for him to be inside her. He felt himself throb. The feeling was mutual.

She pointed his penis up and hovered her cunt over it. “Are you ready?”

“I-I think so.” What am I supposed to do? Just lay here? Can I touch her? He kept his arm idly bent at his side, completely unsure what to do with it. He just laid back and watched.

She lowered her hips, and their intimates touched. His dense flesh met hers, quivering and wet. She gasped and went lower, firmly placing his tip inside of her burning folds. She rested both paws on his tummy and came down slowly, enveloping his manly column bit by heavenly bit.

Loman squinted his eye shut and bit his lip. She was so incredibly tight, so soft. She gripped his length with loving firmness. She moaned all the way down, sighing as her vulva finally coddled his hilt.
That was it for Loman. “Huuuuhhhhh~~~!!!” He arched his back as his orgasm struck him. He bounced underneath her and curled his toes. He pumped hot seed inside of her, deep into her womb. Every throb of his manhood brought another round of jerks and gasps. He had no control.

Tetha’s face scrunched and blushed as he filled her. She was caught off guard as well as he was, but she took no offense. Her whole body trembled as he blessed her with his warm nectar. It felt not just encased in her womanhood, but across her whole body, blooming through her flesh like a ripple across a pond. She hummed contently. Her paws rubbed up and down the rough belly of the bat who bounced and writhed beneath her.

His climax faded and his voice left him. He struggled to form words as his brain was steamrolled under a heavy overload of emotion and physical pleasure. He came close to hyperventilating A tear welled in the corner of his eye.

“Tetha… Tetha… Uhhh… Tetha. I’m sorry. I-”

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh~.” she hushed, pacifying him with a single finger on his lips. He immediately calmed down. “You didn’t do anything wrong. That was so sweet. It felt amazing.” She moved her finger. His lips still quivered.

“That… huhhh… That felt really good. Did I… Did I do OK?”

“Oh baby,” she said with a laugh. “You did everything you were supposed to and then some.” She rolled her hips on him, savoring the slosh of his seed inside of her. She felt it gloosh out of her cunt from in between her and his penis. “It was absolutely amazing. That was your first time?”

He nodded.

Pride surged in her chest. She took a deep breath and smiled, not without a hint of triumph. “Good. You did perfectly.”

He smiled in a way that made him look precious. “I did?”

She leaned down so that they were eye to eye. “Yes you did,” she said, then kissed him. He locked his arm over her and pulled her in tight. She wrapped her wings around him and the branch. Neither of them wanted to let go. He wanted to be in her embrace for the rest of his days, never to be alone again. She wanted to hold him to her bosom, so he’d never be hurt or think such awful thoughts. They gripped each other tightly, kissing with an equal furor that told the other there would be no more loneliness.

Their passionate kissing slowed and they eventually broke. “Do you wanna hang?” she asked.

“Yeah.” She climbed up off of him and carefully brought herself beneath the branch where she hung from her feet. Loman simply grabbed on and swung down, appearing in front of her so suddenly that she jumped.

“Oh!” she gasped, and started giggling. “Is that how you do that?”

“Heh, yeah. It’s fun.”

“I might try doing that.”
“You should.” 

They shared a laugh and resumed their embrace. They wallowed in their heat, nuzzling at each other's necks and nibbling softly. They kissed, swimming their paws up and down their svelte bodies. Loman’s manhood regained stature, and they made love once again. There was more time now to share their pleasures. He thrusted into her deep and slow, drawing out each plunge as best he could. He moaned her name, and she his. It melded together as one seamless moment of time, one they both wished could never stop. It ended on their mutual climax, a billowing flash of joy that had the two singing aloud their approval. Loman pulled out, and his penis retracted back into him. Tetha shuttered with delight. His seed settled deep inside of her. She felt like a woman.

“I’m so glad I found you,” she murmured into his neck.

“Me too. Oh gods, me too.”

“What will you do now?”

He hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know. Keep going north to that lake like I was, I suppose. You said you’ve been there, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You know how to get there?”

“Mmhmm. I could show you.”

“Would you?”

“Of course,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks. That means a lot.” He kissed her on the nose.

“So, you’re leaving?”

“Well, not this moment. I’m a day bat, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“That might make things hard for us, if you’re going to show me the way. Remember, I can’t fly. You’ll have to stick with me as I walk. Are you sure you want to guide me?”

She pondered for a moment. “No.” she said flatly.

A bolt of pain stabbed his gut. Damn. “That’s Ok. You can point me in the right direction and I’ll be fine. I’ve gotten-”

“No. That’s not what I meant. I mean I don’t want you to go that way.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t go there.”

“Why? Is it dangerous?”

“No, the place is fine.”

“Then why shouldn’t I go?”

She was silent for several seconds.

“Well?” he demanded.

“Do you wanna come work with us?” she asked finally.

Loman’s face went blank. She wants me to do what? “Work with… you?”

“Yes, with me Leonard, Artie and the others. Come work with us and help people. We can be your new colony.”

“I-I don’t know. How…? I’ve never healed anybody.”

“Neither had I when I joined! Leonard taught me. He taught all of us. It isn’t just me, him, Artie and Tildie anymore. We have a whole bunch of people who travel with us. People you’d love to meet. People who could teach you things.”

“Ok, but... what if I mess up?”

“You think none of us have? We fuck up sometimes, sure, but that never stopped us.”

“I only have one wing.”

“Oh please, not this nonsense again. You’ve turned into a climbing and fishing machine with only one arm. Do you really think you can’t help people if you can learn to do those things?”

“I still don’t know.”

“Loman,” she said, her tone growing stern. “You don’t have to heal people physically to help them. We always tell our patients that we don’t know what it’s like to be in their situations. You do. You’ve gone through the pain and the trauma. You broke through those barriers and survived. You can show all of those who’ve been hurt that it’s possible to succeed. Think about what you would’ve said to yourself if you could go back in time and talk to the Loman who woke up in our camp. You can do that for so many people. That’s a luxury so few beasts have had, and finally we’d be able to give it to them, but only if you joined us.”

Loman wondered. What would he say to himself back then? You’re going to survive. I know what it’s like. It’s not your fault. This doesn’t change who you are. Your colony misses you. Flying isn’t everything you are. You can still be loved. You don’t have to be alone.

How many beasts out there needed to be told the same thing?

“OK,” he said.

“OK?” she asked, hope brightening her magnificently dark eyes.

“OK. I’ll help. I want to learn.”

Tetha squealed with delight and hugged him tight. “Ohhhhh thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyooooooouuuuu!”

“Whoa! You’re welcome!” He chuckled. He didn’t think it was that serious. But still, it felt good making her so happy. It was though he actually accomplished something. He was finally going to belong.

“You won’t regret it, I promise. There are so many people to meet. Tildie and Artie are gonna lose their minds.”

“Artie?”

“Of course. You’re all he talked about when you left. He thought you were bad ass.”

“Huh.” That was especially complimenting coming from a wolf like him.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready? To go?”

“Yeah! They’re gonna be so surprised!”

“Well, I don’t know if I can go right now. It’s night time and I’m pretty tired.”

“Oh, right. I keep forgetting you wake up at day. I just woke up.”

“Plus, walking there’s gonna be tough for me.”

“I know, you’re right. You should get some sleep. It’s not too far from here. You can get there in less than a night, er… day.”

“Good. Are you going anywhere?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, it’s nighttime. You just woke up.”

“I’m alright.” She nuzzled her cheek into the valley of his pecs. “I’ll stay here with you.”

“Really?”

“Really. Get some sleep. I won’t bother you.”

He smiled and pecked her forehead. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Loman yawned and swaddled into their shared hug. He borrowed his nose into her gossamer hair and closed his eye. Soon he was asleep, dreaming about his time with Tetha and the day he would have ahead.

Tetha was wide awake, buzzing with excitement. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was. She was so proud, both of herself and of Loman. Maybe now he could heal the way he never had, the way he deserved. She felt like doing somersaults in the air, she was so elated. But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to wake him up. Instead she rested her face against his chest, content to listen to him snore softly.

THE END