Moving has eaten my life, but I’m still making time for writing, this time another avian/serpent fluff piece. Setting is concurrent with Kortan’s, so about… 1000 years before Asylum. Enter our main protagonist, an adorably dorky avian guard named Hadrian.
This was it. He was going to do it. Today. Right now. No turning back.
As soon as he could convince his feet to move.
He’d tried his speech out a hundred times, on unsuspecting rosebushes, apple and olive trees alike. He was ready. He could do this.
Just … feet.
He’d steeled himself so thoroughly against running away that he couldn’t seem to take the first step. Move, move damn you! He stared at his useless feet, but they wouldn’t budge.
“Alright then,” he said aloud, hoping the sound would spur him to something. “If we aren’t going downstairs, then we’d better go find some way to make ourselves useful, hadn’t we?”
His feet continued to do nothing.
Disgusted, Hadrian threw himself back onto his bunk with a sigh. He half expected his boots to remain planted. But no. Now that he’d given up, his body was all-too-willing to lie there, staring uselessly at the ceiling.
He was never going to work up the courage to ask Lyria to go walking.