They crossed through the trees into a small glade. Ursa's shoulders were hunched up with her snout pulled into a terrible snarl. The witch looked excitedly around. But there was nothing. She could feel the magic around her like a miasma, but no one was there. She turned around in a complete circle, looking for the source of the magic. She looked at Ursa and shrugged her shoulders.
She saw Ursa's eyes widen seconds before the creature attacked from the sky. All she saw was black as it flew at her. A strong wind tossed her through the air. The breath was knocked out of her as she hit the ground hard. She lay gasping. A roar ripped through the silence. She couldn't control how her body trembled, begging her to run, run, RUN, but the fear froze her. A startled rabbit caught in the sight of a wolf, quivering and still at the same time, in the face of danger. Tears stung her eyes. She was starting to think this was a bad idea.
She heard Ursa roar. She couldn't leave Ursa alone. She rolled over on her stomach. The pain was intense. Her vision was blurred, and red dripped down into the dirt below her. Was she bleeding?
She vomited. The fighting continued around her while she tried to get herself together. She slowly stood up, and almost immediately her legs gave out. She dropped down to her knees and dry heaved. Blood splattered all over the ground.
The witch stood up on shaking legs as blood poured from her nose. Dazed, she watched as Ursa swiped her claws at something. What was that?
She rubbed the knot on the back of her head. How hard did she hit the ground? She didn't understand what she was seeing.
The creature in the glade was large and mostly human-shaped, if she ignored the enormous, black wings arching from its back. Its face - no, his face- was set in a feral snarl. His long and sharp teeth were bared. His arm was raised, ready to strike out at Ursa. Each of the creature's fingers ended in long talons. The scene before her could have come straight out of a horror movie. She felt fear build up in her stomach and spread through her body like a sickness. Instead of freezing up again, she did the opposite. In a rush, she ran over to the two predators as they charged at each other. Her vision blurred violently as she shoved her body in front of Ursa.
At that moment, she felt like a speck—a small, insignificant thing standing between two forces of nature. Ursa reared back on her hind legs and towered over her. Her resounding roar was so thunderous that hot spittle rained down on the witch. The beast in front of her eclipsed the sun with its massive wings. She had never felt so short in her life; her head barely reached the creature's shoulders. Her body tightened up in anticipation. Her adrenaline kicked in, her vision cleared, and she focused on his face.
She saw blue.
Not blue like the sky on a peaceful sunny day.
Not the soft blue a parent would paint a child's room.
Not the pretty blue cornflowers growing in the spring.
This was the terrifying blue of a storm at sea.
This was the all-encompassing blue of raging waters.
This blue was filled with the furious anger of a funnel cloud touching down.
She couldn't look away. It was like time stopped. She couldn't hear their snarls; her thoughts quieted as she reached up a bloodied hand to touch the face in front of her.
The winged man flinched back with shock evident on his face.
What a lovely face it was without the fearful snarl. Ursa made an undignified choking noise behind her.
She had enough self-awareness to be embarrassed. She dropped her hand. It was silent in the glade. The world continued to spin. Her nose continued to drip with blood. And she continued to stare up intently at the face before her.
She vaguely wondered if the silence was uncomfortable.
Her hand stretched out. "Hello, I'm Mallow."
He didn't reach out to shake her hand, but she didn't drop it. He looked disgusted. "What the fuck is a Mallow?" He spat the words at her in a growl.
She kept her hand raised between them. "I'm a Mallow." She flashed him her biggest smile. The one she gives to baby ducks waddling after their mother. She tried to ignore the blood trailing into her mouth.
He did not look impressed by it. His nose wrinkled up further.
She prided herself on not being a quitter. Her hand shook, but she kept it up. She gestured back at Ursa. "This is my familiar-"
"That's a fucking grizzly bear," he interrupted.
She finally dropped her hand and looked over her shoulder at Ursa. They made eye contact. She nodded a bit too eagerly and had a brief flash of pain. "Yes, she is in fact a grizzly bear. Ursa is my familiar."
"You're a witch-"
"Yup!"
"Named hallow-"
"It's actually Mallow."
"And your familiar is a freakin' grizzly bear?" He asked, looking appalled.
She remembered not to nod. "That's right."
He started snarling again. "So you're the witch who's been hunting me down."
It was Mallow's turn to be shocked. "I'm not hunting you!"
"You've been hunting me with your magic," he scoffed, lips curled back.
"I was checking on you!" She can't believe he thought she was hunting him. She would never.
He hissed at her. He literally bared his teeth and hissed at her, like a giant cat. That was over 6 feet, with wings, and talons—a very large, muscular cat.
"Oh yes, I'm sure a witch was only checking on me with her magic."
"Yes! That's exactly what I was doing!" Finally, he understood her.
"Lies!" He roared out, extending to his full height. "Witches all want the same thing. They will use anyone and anything to get power. They don't care who they hurt or kill."
Mallow shrank back. She was flushed against Ursa. "I've never hurt anyone," she insisted.
He puffed himself up. "Witches are bloodthirsty, evil hunters! I will kill you before I let a witch capture me again."
"Witches aren't evil," she said weakly. Deep down, she knew that wasn't true. Her parents were pretty close to evil. "Not all witches are evil, " she said with a little more strength.
He wasn't listening. He continued to rage. "You've been watching me since I entered this forest. You want to use me for your magic."
She was leaning all her body weight on Ursa. Mallow could feel her grumbling.
"What did you want to take first ?" He yelled at her, his face turning red. "My blood?" He shoved up his sleeves, revealing thick, raised scars extending up from his wrist.
She gasped in shock. His forearm was covered in a lattice of scars.
"Or how about some feathers?" He shot his wings out and bared them for her to see. She hadn't noticed the fine black feathers that covered his wings. He had whole sections of his wings plucked clean. She could see the shine of scar tissue in the bare spots. She felt sick to her stomach when she saw the holes in his wings. He had holes through his wings. Some of the holes were small, like a hole punch; others were the size of her fist. The worst ones were the viscous vertical tears in both wings. Mallow slapped a hand over her mouth. She didn't have it in her to throw up again. Ursa whined low in her throat behind her.
Mallow has never hurt a living creature for her gain, which is one of the reasons she has such a tumultuous relationship with her family. She comes from a long line of old and powerful witches, but Mallow has never been powerful or overly ambitious. Her family wanted and wanted until greed burned inside them—they even let it burn their own children. Mallow and her brother ran from that life.
She felt unbelievable sorrow for the creature in front of her. She felt ashamed to be a witch. He was red in the face and breathing heavily. He was snarling at her; he looked absolutely vicious. His fangs could rip her apart. But it was his eyes that she focused on. She saw the anger, but she also saw the fear. He was terrified of her. She was a 5'2 barefooted witch who talked to flowers in her spare time, and he was afraid of her. She wiped away some of the tears that escaped her eyes. Mallow wiped away the blood on her face, and she fell to her knees. Ursa followed her. She scrunched her giant body down and lay her head on her paws.
He stood over her in all his glory. His chest was heaving. His dark hair and feathers bristled softly from the breeze. She placed her bloodied hand on the ground in front of her and the other over her heart.
"I swear to you that I mean you no harm," she promised earnestly.
He scoffed at her and rolled his shoulders back, coiled and ready to strike.
"I swear that you, or any magical creature or being, are safe from me and my magic," she tried again, her voice a little stronger.
His body was wrought with tension, but his growls tapered off. He stared down at her with suspicion written all over his face.
She had to try harder. She had to make him see that she wasn't a threat to him or anybody, for that matter. "I swear that my forest is a safe place for all magical beings with good intent. I swear to heal and protect those seeking refuge. " She declared loudly and clearly in the glade. She held his intense eye contact.
"I promise that you're safe with me." She took a shaky breath. "I promise I won't hurt you." She begged him. Mallow was absolutely not above begging.
The Earth beneath her rumbled a bit, but she ignored it. She didn't want to break eye contact with him as he tried to figure out her intentions. Neither he nor Ursa seemed bothered by the little ground rattle, so she was sure it was okay. Probably. You never knew with magic.
He was studying her. His face was set in stone as he stared down at her. She took the opportunity to study him back. He was pretty handsome in an ethereal way. His long black hair curled over his forehead. She noticed textured patches across his forehead. She didn't notice them with the intense scowling he had his face set in. She saw more of the texture pattern across his high cheekbones and down his long neck. She squinted at them.
Scales. He had scales across his forehead, hiding under his wisps of hair. She could see the ones across his cheeks more clearly. She tried to keep the absolute glee off her face when she saw them shimmer an irradiance black. She hadn't known him for very long, but she didn't think he would appreciate her admiring his sparkly scales.
His body relaxed in increments. First, his dark wings folded against his back gracefully. His brow dropped as he released his tension. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Wren."
She looked around the glade and didn't see a wren. "Where?"
He sighed with his whole body. "I'm Wren."
She side-eyed Ursa. They were both a little shocked. "You're a bird?"
He clenched his teeth together. His jaw jumped from the force. "No, you idiot. I'm a dragon."
Ursa flinched next to her. Mallow excitedly stood up, only swaying slightly. "You're a dragon?" She had never met a dragon before. They were exceedingly rare.
"What the hell did you think I was?" He demanded, angrily flipping his hands in the air.
She shrugged. "A bird?"
He growled, but it wasn't like before, where it shot through the glade with force. This was more of an unhappy rumbling coming from his throat. "My name is Wren."
Mallow brought her hand up to hide her smile. She was absolutely delighted that this massive dragon was named after such a little bird.
She smiled brightly at him. "It's nice to meet you, Wren."