Through and Through
 
 
  Kalen had just finished stacking the small stones he’d found scattered about the cave in a neat circle when the telltale impact outside that denoted Cefyrn’s arrival shuddered through the ground around him. Kalen glanced up, watching the gryphon rustle those stark white feathers in the sharp light of the early morning sun. The gryphon tramped in from the rock outcropping, the darkness of the cave casting the powerful muscles of the beast in keen relief as they rippled, barely contained by his hide. Kalen felt a phantom claw rake his chest, a beak in his leg. A cold hand grasped his heart, if only for a second. He tore his gaze away. He was still staring at the floor when Cefyrn dropped the various sticks he’d been carrying in his beak. They clattered to the floor and scattered about, knocking the neat row of stones Kalen had arranged out of line. Kalen flinched as one of the sticks bounced off his hand.
 
 
“This is demeaning.” Cefyrn rumbled at Kalen, staring down at him with his thick amber eyes, seeming to glow with a light all their own in the shadows of the cave.
 
 
“I’d do it myself but I’m afraid I’m a little indisposed.” Kalen forced an upbeat note into his voice. Cefyrn’s gaze drifted to Kalen’s legs, lingering there for a long moment. “Anyway…” Kalen coughed in the intervening silence. “It’ll all be worth it in a little while. You’ll see - We’ll have a nice cooked meal.” There was another silence. “It’s serving a dual purpose, too, as I’ve only a few odds and ends left in the way of food in my pack.” More silence. “So, uhh… We just need some water and something to cook and we’ll be ready to go. Well, I say cook, but really it’ll be more of boiling than cooking. That’s not to say that boiling isn’t cooking, but rather -”
 
 
“Is there any point to all of this?” Cefyrn scratched the stone floor. “This long list of steps to ‘cook’ food, as you have put it, seems to me a waste of time.”
 
 
“I know, I know, just… humor me. Only time I’ll ask you to do this. Take this pot,” Kalen shuffled sideways, pulling himself by his arms, to his pack, from which he produced a small iron pot. “And fill it with some water. Then I’ll make some fire - very interesting process by the way - and we’ll be well on our way to a proper meal for once.” Cefyrn’s only response was a low rumble, as he leaned in to peer at Kalen.
 
 
“You seem more awake. That is good. You slept a long while when first I brought you here.” The gryphon drew his head back, towering over Kalen in the darkened cave. Those deep yellow eyes, as ever, fixed upon Kalen’s. “What of your legs?”
 
 
“You should be able to get water from Quiet Spring. Just dip the pot in the river and bring it back here. Don’t worry about getting too much, I can always pour some out if it’s overfilled.” Cefyrn stared at him for a few seconds before bending down to pick up the pot by the handle and trudging out of the cave. He got a running start and leapt off of the outcropping, slamming his wings down in a great cacophony, blasting the entire cave with a gust of wind. Kalen released his breath, pushing the stones back into a rough circle for the firepit. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the sight of that creature. It had been easier when he’d been light headed from blood loss and trauma; everything had seemed so surreal. He was still weak, but recovering - and everything now was so much more vivid. He pulled himself against the stone wall and leaned against it, eyes closed. Though his injuries appeared mostly healed, he was still weak. After such a small exertion he was exhausted. It was a while before his breathing steadied.
 
 
  Finally, Kalen opened his eyes and returned to setting up the firepit. A couple of the pieces Cefyrn had brought with him were excessively long - far too long to be fit cleanly in the circular enclosure Kalen had set up. He picked one up and was about to break it in half when he paused. It was fairly straight and a little over half the length of his body.
 
 
“Hmmm…” He murmured, standing it against the stone floor of the cave. He grabbed the stick with both hands and pulled, almost managing to haul himself upright with his arms alone. His feet slid roughly against the stone, pulled limply behind his body as it rose. He wobbled there for a second, entire body shaking from the exertion, before losing his balance and crashing back down to the cave floor. Kalen grunted as he landed heavily on his arm. It was a moment before he moved again, sitting up and tossing the stick over by his pack. He pulled a second stick of similar length from the pile and, after giving it a quick examination, tossed it too over by his pack. He busied himself breaking all the other oversized wood into pieces and using his knife to whittle some shavings from one particularly thick log so he’d have something to start the fire with. With that done Kalen returned himself to where his pack lay and leaned against the wall. His right arm ached from his fall. He winced, rotating the shoulder, and let his head fall back against the hard rock.
 
 
  Kalen started as Cefyrn landed back at the cave. He must have drifted off to sleep while awaiting the gryphon’s return. The avian padded inside, the iron pot held tightly in his beak. A splash of water leapt from the pot as Cefyrn stopped suddenly, glaring at Kalen.
 
“How did you manage to injure yourself again?” Kalen frowned, following the creature’s gaze. His frown deepened as he lit upon a discolored, splotchy bruise down his right arm.
 
 
“I, ah… fell.”
 
 
“You… fell.” Cefyrn snapped his beak shut. “Despite not being able to stand, despite not being able to walk, despite your previous injuries. You fell.”
 
 
“Well, uhh - there were some extenuating circumstances.” Cefyrn chose only to stare in response. “I’m fine though. Let me get that pot,” Kalen reached out with his right hand, gritting his teeth against the pain as he grabbed the handle from the gryphon. The gryphon released the handle and Kalen cried out, arm flaring up in agony. The pot, overfilled with water, crashed to the cave floor, freely dumping its contents across the stones. “Ow.” Kalen muttered quietly. Cefyrn took in a long breath, exhaling slowly through the nostrils.
 
 
“And now I have to go do that… All. Over. Again.” Cefyrn opened his eyes, glaring at Kalen. “You are not nearly as fine as you have pretended.”
 
 
“Alright, maybe I’m not. But, in my defense, it barely hurt until I tried to hold the pot full of water.”
 
 
“It only barely hurt.” Cefyrn didn’t seem convinced.
 
 
“Well, okay, maybe it hurt a lot.”
 
 
“I will go to the spring and collect water - again. This time, however,” Cefyrn moved with lightning speed, pinning Kalen underneath an outstretched claw. “You will be accompanying me.”
 
 
“I don’t suppose I get a say in this?” Kalen wheezed as Cefyrn pressed down on his chest.
 
 
“Mmm…” Cefyrn affected to consider the request. “No.” That smirk was back; an almost imperceptible twitch about the corners of the avian’s face. Kalen was sure he’d seen it. Cefyrn leaned in, his breath heavy against Kalen’s cheek, and ran his tongue from the base of Kalen’s chin to his hairline, slicking a portion of the dark mess straight up like a lop-sided mohawk. Kalen’s shoulders shot up as an involuntary shiver ran through his body. Cefyrn towered above Kalen, amber eyes boring holes through Kalen’s head to the stone below. He stood up there for what seemed like forever, though Kalen knew it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds at most. Finally, the claw on his chest lifted. The gryphon withdrew lower, beak skating the contours of Kalen’s chest, still exposed by his shredded jerkin, snagging for just an instant on the day shorts, ragged and poorly stitched, before finally coming to rest at Kalen’s feet, bare in the dim light of the cave. A second shiver ran through Kalen as the monster tapped his beak against Kalen’s foot. Kalen could feel his blood running thicker as the adrenaline poured into his veins; his heart hammering in his chest like a royal soldier’s drum. Up until now he hadn’t even been sure whether the creature eating him hadn’t just been an especially vivid fever dream conjured up by the combined pain and blood loss he’d experienced. Now, though, with a clear head, he knew. It was real. Far too real, in fact. Kalen understood an abject fear; every logical inch of his mind screaming at him that nothing but death awaited inside the monster, but he found himself unable to do more than stare.
 
 
  Then Cefyrn’s tongue slithered out. Surreptitious, like an eavesdropping serpent, it ran itself around Kalen’s feet, over and under, pulling them together; pulling them upward. Kalen was sure he would have kicked out, even involuntarily, at the treatment, but nary a twitch was produced from the lame appendages. Kalen instead could only clench his fists, adrenaline flying through him now as he watched this great creature slowly sucking him in. Cefyrn’s head bobbed forward, as a chicken’s would, each time enveloping more and more of Kalen’s beleaguered form. The tongue whipped about, in and out of Cefyrn’s mouth with a mind all its own, caressing here, tasting there. The beak, for its own part, made steady progress. One moment Kalen’s knees stuck out from the gullet, the next, only his waist, till Kalen’s chest and arms disappeared into the abyss. Cefyrn had been sure to press Kalen’s arms down, fitting it all neatly in that chimeric body. The heat poured off of Cefyrn, soaking into Kalen’s every inch. The gryphon paused, Kalen’s head just barely clear of the wide open beak, to give him one last lick, thick tongue running along the other side of Kalen’s head, before swallowing mightily.
 
 
  Kalen heard the distinct click of Cefyrn’s beak above him as the pitch black sauna welcomed him in its deep embrace, a second swallow pressing him downward, and further in. One last swallow, and Kalen’s feet met resistance. He slid further, meeting up with his knees in a haphazard fetal position. The chamber wasted no time, an echoing groan heralding an imminent fate. Kalen found his adrenaline, his fear, escaping him. Where only a moment before he had felt the bone numbing chill of death he felt now, in its place, nothing. Kalen didn’t get the chance to ponder it deeply, however, as his host took a flying leap, presumably out of the cave, jostling Kalen’s lightless world mightily. The heavy thumping of Cefyrn’s heartbeat, inescapable in these confines, ramped up, becoming faster, and louder as the gryphon flew. The thick flesh surrounding Kalen pressed in with a renewed vigor, clamping down on him tightly. And once more, Kalen was still. Were it not for the heartbeat and muted wingbeats from outside he would have sworn his predator was stationary.
 
 
  Time seemed to stretch and drip, sludging over Kalen’s consciousness and unravelling any coherent train of thought he attempted to construct. The only constants were the wet heat and the thick, ooze like fluid coating him. It soaked into his damaged clothing and his skin, deadening his senses. At some point he was aware of Cefyrn landing somewhere. The gryphon had mentioned having a task of some sort that needed completing. After some time they were off once more. Kalen’s mind wandered. He considered what he still needed to do somewhat dully. Needed to light the fire, boil the water, add meat and spices, the like. There was some greater meaning to it, though, that eluded him. There was a reason he was cooking this meal. Kalen frowned, concentrating. He needed something to eat. That was part of it. His frown deepened as he searched his muddied mind for a sole string of clear thought. He was trying to impress the gryphon… Cefyrn. That gryphon. The bird had stated his opinion of cooking and Kalen wanted to change his mind - have him singing praise to the great cooking of… For a moment, Kalen struggled to place his own name. A small spark of fear lit in his gut, muted and uncertain in the dark confines. Kalen. Kalen Veera. The spark blew out, extinguished by a combined wave of apathy and lethargy. Everything was fine.
 
 
  Some time later the uniformity of Kalen’s world was broken. His host slammed heavily into the ground, flight over. The gryphon treaded forward, shuffling Kalen’s world about with every step, before coming to a halt. There was a brief pause, seeming to lengthen and run like oil down a fresh canvas. Then Cefyrn coughed, heaving in a most unpredatory fashion. The flesh about Kalen convulsed violently, rippling along the fringes to force him forward and up. A second convulsion of similar intensity ripped through the beast, sucking Kalen’s head and body up, through that thickly cloying tunnel of avian innards Kalen had been pushed through in reverse some time ago. Or perhaps it had been just moments ago. Kalen couldn’t be sure, exactly. A third retch saw Kalen’s head and shoulders poking out of the beast, facing roughly toward the floor. Cefyrn reached up a claw and grasped the soaked-through shoulder of Kalen’s clothing and slowly pulled him free with a peculiar sucking sound. With a final wet pop, Kalen flopped limply on the cold stone floor. Kalen brought his hands up to his eyes sluggishly, scraping the gryphon fluids from his face. Cefyrn lowered his head to tap the side of the iron pot with his keen beak.
 
 
“A successful trip. And this time you did not befoul it.” Kalen blinked, working the words over in his mind. “In addition,” the gryphon continued, “your presence did not slow me nearly as much as I had predicted. Perhaps I could make a habit of this.” The first portion of Cefyrn’s words registered with Kalen. He rubbed his arm absent-mindedly. His brow creased lightly and he rubbed it again. Craning his neck, he saw that the irregular purple bruise had all but disappeared.
 
 
“Odd.” He murmured, wiping some excess ooze off of his arms. Then the rest of Cefyrn’s words filtered through his mind. He shot a look at that avian face. Was that a shadow of a smirk lurking about the corners of the beak? “Some sense of humor you have there.” He tried to stand, pushing his upper body up with his hands, only to flop weakly onto the ground as his legs failed to obey him. “Wha?” With that the memories came flooding back. Kalen recalled with some discomfort how he felt while inside the creature. Everything had seemed so… pleasant. He simply could not have brought himself to care about anything. Kalen pushed himself to sitting, forcing himself to look Cefyrn in the eyes.
 
 
“What did you do to me?” The question hung in the air.
 
 
“You did not appreciate it?” Cefyrn’s head tilted marginally to the left. “I eased your pain.” Kalen opened his mouth to reply, then shut it. All of the responses that came to mind were far too caustic to say aloud. Despite everything, he was still wary of antagonizing the gryphon. So instead, he chose to change the subject.
 
 
“How do you do that, anyway? ‘Ease my pain’, as you put it.”
 
 
“I simply will it. Do you not have such control over your body?” Kalen found himself opening his mouth only to shut it again. “I suppose I should not be surprised. My mother told me that royal gryphons like myself are special.” Cefyrn’s neck and shoulders puffed out, and the bird dragged a claw along the stone. Kalen chose not to pursue the subject. Instead, he did his best to put the entire experience out of his head. It would be better to confront the bird about it later. Kalen shook his head, shuffling himself over to his pack and to pull out his flint and steel. Sliding himself over to the fire pit, he noted the visibly deflated gryphon watching him.
 
 
“Come over here; I’ll show you how to cook.” With that he smacked the two pieces together, showering the kindling he’d manufactured earlier with sparks. The sparks eddied and pulsed against the wooden ribbons, then went out.
 
 
“Was something supposed to happen?” Cefyrn asked, over his shoulder.
 
 
“Just gimme a second. It can take a few tries.” Eventually the sparks took and a small fire quietly blossomed from the depths of the kindling. It spread, slowly at first, then faster, greedily lapping up the unburned wood. Kalen placed a crude iron grate on the fire and lowered the pot onto the grate. “This isn’t exactly an ideal setup, but sometimes you gotta make do with what you got.” He adjusted the grate slightly, hissing as he burned his finger. “Alright!” He sat back, watching the flames lick about the underside of the pot. “Now for the final step. I’ll ply you for one last thing, here. We need something to cook.” Cefyrn looked tired.
 
 
“This is the last errand you are sending me on for this ridiculous task?”
 
 
“Yep. Well, probably. No guarantees. But yeah, probably.” Cefyrn breathed heavily, eyes shut, before fixing them on Kalen. The avian face appeared more sinister in the uncertain light of the fire.
 
 
“Very well. I will take you with me.” The creature padded toward Kalen slowly. Kalen found his blood running colder than usual.
 
 
“Wait, let’s hold on there with that one!” Kalen scooted himself backward, away from that wickedly curved beak, though he found himself fearing not the beak, but rather what lay beyond it. “Let’s think reasonably about this.” Cefyrn stopped his advance. “I’d just slow you down, and hunting isn’t the same as fetching water. You’d actually need your speed, right?” Those amber eyes squinted at him. “And of course we need some to watch the fire, make sure it doesn’t go out or get out of control.” Kalen shuffled a little bit further away from the fur and feathers. “So really it just makes more sense to leave me here.” Kalen thought he saw the lightest bit of disappointment lurking about the corners of Cefyrn’s face.
 
 
“Very well. Understand, though, that should I return to find you have managed to hurt yourself again, there will be… consequences.” Kalen resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. He watched the feathers rustling and muscles rippling as that great beast turned about and launched himself out into the late afternoon sky. For just a moment, the gryphon lit a burning orange as the sun played across the feathers on his wings. Kalen stared at the fire, wondering how best to broach how he felt to Cefyrn. The bird had obviously not meant to do… Kalen frowned. What, exactly, had Cefyrn done to him? It was obvious he hadn’t meant it to be as unpleasant as it had ended up being. Kalen was glad he’d resisted the knee-jerk reaction that had sprung to his tongue earlier. He shook his head, scattering the thoughts for the moment. His eyes landed on the two sticks Cefyrn had brought back, laying next to Kalen’s pack, spared from the fire.
 
 
  Kalen grimaced as what was left of his jerkin caught momentarily on the cave wall. He had almost pushed himself up to standing, though. He couldn’t stop now. Leaning heavily on the cave wall, he had used the stick as a makeshift crutch, pushing himself nearly upright. With one last shove, he reached the end of the pole. To all appearances, he was simply leaning against the cave wall. Kalen smiled, arm shaking slightly as it held the stick rigidly against the floor.
 
 
“Took my legs, but I’m still standing.” He chuckled to himself. He glanced up just in time to see a figure hoisting itself up onto the small plateau outside. Of average height and build, the man wore poorly stitched leather accoutrements and a frayed hood that did little to conceal his brown hair and eyes. He was followed by another, wearing faded studded leather and with a larger than average bow slung across his back. Finally, a third clambered up, sweat running profusely down his balding head and soaking into his nice, frilled clothing.The first man dusted his pants off roughly, stepping out of the way so the others could find purchase on the stone outcropping.
 
 
“This’d better be worth it, Bev. Nearly lost me blasted life climbin’ up here.” The last man up was more portly than the others. His breathing was labored, and his cheeks bloomed a rosy red in the evening light. He’d obviously had a more difficult time of the climb.
 
 
“Of course it’ll be worth it, Jaf. I saw with me own eyes, a huge white bird nests here, spied it I did on the trail. Fetch a fine price at the market. Though the smoke is new.” Bev squinted, peering from behind his thick locks of light brown hair into the cave, but didn’t seem to notice Kalen hiding in the shadows. “I’ll be! A bird that lights fires, is it?”
 
 
“A fire lightin’ bird, now, eh? And I suppose yer eyes’ll tell us next that there’s a bloody unicorn tied to the ceiling.” The second man unslung his large bow, selecting a similarly impressive arrow to lay across the string.
 
 
“Oh, shaddup, Kleel. You know me eyes ain’t what they used to be - and I seen it from some distance I did, mebbe that smoke always been there. Think of that, did ye?” Kleel looked miffed, but didn’t say anything.
 
 
Kalen coughed quietly. The three men started, and all turned, searching for the source of the noise. It was only then they seemed to notice the inhabitant off to the side, nearly still in the dimly dancing light of the fire.
 
 
“Oh for gods’ sake, Jaf, you din’t even look to see if there were anything in the cave afore arguing wit’ me?”
 
 
“It weren’t an argument, Kleel. It were…” Jaf searched for the words. “A statement. About the state of things. And how I feel.”
 
 
“Well consider this a statement about how little I care about yer stupid feelings! A statement about the state of things. Do ya ever listen to the words that come out of that hole in yer head you call a mouth?” Kalen hadn’t been exactly sure what to expect when he had drawn attention to himself, but he certainly hadn’t expected the three men to continue bickering on as if he wasn’t present. He hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. During his indecision, Bev leaned toward him, shading his eyes from the fire. His eyes widened, and he slapped Jaf’s rounded belly with the back of his hand, producing a resounding slap even through the thick fabric of Jaf’s shirt.
 
 
“Stop yer bickering, lads! I recognize this apparition, I do! From the posters? Outside the brothel?” It was Kleel’s turn to squint at Kalen.
 
 
“Oh, yes, me thinks I do. It’s a striking likeness, it is.” Kleel set his bow to half draw. “The crimson phantom in the flesh. You’re a wanted man, Mister phantom.”
 
 
“What a stroke of luck, eh lads?” The portly man, Jaf, did a clumsy imitation of a bow. “Ain’t ye glad that ye listened to yer old pal Jaf?”
 
 
“If you don’t shut yer trap, Jaf, I swear you’ll find yerself with the same fate about to befall our phantom friend here.” Kleel shot Kalen a crooked grin. “You ain’t wanted alive, unfortunately for you.”
 
 
“Kleel, you know what they said about the crimson phantom. Cut one hundred men down in as many seconds!” Bev stared at Kalen with some fear. Kalen realized he had a part to play if he wanted to live through this. He groped at his waist with his free hand and - thank god - he had his hunting knife on him. The blade flew free from the leather scabbard with a dry shlick. It was scratched and dull, and of poor make, but it gleamed dully in the firelight and Kalen was banking on the them not examining it closely. He flicked his wrist, tossing the blade upward. It spun, catching the firelight and, for a brief moment, appearing as a flaming fan in the darkness. Kalen caught it as it came back down, biting his lip as he messed up the catch and nicked himself.
 
 
“Welcome to my abode, friends. It seems you already know who I am, so I’ll skip the pleasantries. I’ll do you the favor of overlooking that threat you directed at me and give you the chance to leave before things get… ugly.” Kalen forced as much bravado into his voice as he could muster. Truth be told, he was in a bad way. Already he could feel the shaking in the arm holding him up getting worse, the pain as the muscles cramped up. If he couldn’t get these men to leave now, he’d fall, and then it would really be over.
 
 
“Ugly for you, that is. You think we’re afeared of you?” Kleel sneered at Kalen, but the action was hollow. Kalen could see the fear lurking about the corners of Kleel’s face like an ocean storm yet to break.
 
 
“Yeah! Afeared of some fool hiding in a cave like a common bandit? Ha!” Jaf crossed his arms, a small feat getting them wrapped about his rotund form, and glared at Kalen. There was a cold, calculating light in those eyes that belied the rest of the man’s body.
 
 
“Hiding? Ha! I’m…” Kalen’s mind raced. “Hunting. Yes, I’m hunting the very bird that lives here!”
 
 
“Thought you said this were your ‘abode’.” Bev looked genuinely confused. The others looked suspiciously at Kalen.
 
 
“Uhh,” Kalen began, but was saved from having to answer by a resounding slam from outside. Kalen looked past the three men to see Cefyrn had returned, standing on top of what appeared to be an entire dead deer.
 
 
  For a moment, there was complete silence. Even the wind outside, which had blown a gentle tune outside up until now, seemed to hold its breath. Kalen saw an opportunity. To put the crimson phantom to rest, close that particular chapter of his life. Only… Kalen couldn’t believe what he was about to ask that beast to do. A week ago, had someone told him he’d not only willingly let himself be eaten by a great chimeric monster, but be asking said monster to eat him, he would have laughed in their face. A lot had happened in two short days, though. He knew the simplest solution to solving the riddle of faking his death here and now, but he couldn’t say that he liked it. Kalen took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do.
 
 
“Ah, and there he is.” Kalen waved the knife vaguely at the three men, standing sheet white between him and the gryphon. “I’d suggest you all step aside and let me get to work.” Kalen supposed they would have a laugh about his fictitious confidence before being eaten once they were safely several miles away from the gryphon. And in the confines of a warm inn. Kalen then switched his attention to Cefyrn. “Cefyrn… I absolutely cannot believe I’m asking this, but can you eat me? And then scare these idiots off?” Kalen spoke Scyvish to the bird. Cefyrn cocked his head. For a second, it seemed as if he was going to ask a question. Instead, a devilish smile fixed itself on his beak as he locked those intense eyes with Kalen’s. Kalen blanched, having second thoughts. Before he could voice them Cefyrn leaped at him, knocking Bev and Jaf aside like oversized chess pieces. Only Kleel managed to remain standing, flattened against the wall and clutching his bow with white knuckle force.
 
 
  And like that the beast was on him. Kalen heaved himself off the wall to meet the onrushing clouded mass of feathers and fur. Strong, taloned claws gripped his back, adding to the weight pulling him down. The rushing wind and noise cut off suddenly as his entire upper body was suddenly engulfed in soaked heat. Kalen realized how gentle Cefyrn had been with him the previous times as the creature roughly threw him in the air, bringing his beak down on Kalen’s skin just short of breaking through and spilling blood. The air in Kalen’s lungs absconded all at once in a huge rush as the iron grip of the avian’s throat clamped down on his body, holding him in place. The creature tilted back slightly further, getting ready to swallow mightily. It took only a single swallow to drag Kalen’s entire form painfully through the humid innards. Kalen barely had time to cough, dragging in a breath, before he was unceremoniously stuffed into the familiar stomach of his predator.
 
 
  The flesh about Kalen trembled with terrifying force as a deep rumbling growl ran through it, nearly deafening Kalen as it penetrated his entire body. Kalen couldn’t see, from where he was, but the mental image of the three men scrambling over one another to escape the terrifying challenge the gryphon had just directed at them made him smile. He shook his head, and then the full force of what had just happened to him really sunk in. A light glow set in on Kalen’s cheeks, burning hotter than the world surrounding him could justify. The heat spread through his entire body, coming to a rest deep inside of him. Kalen’s jaw locked. Any normal human would have felt abject terror in the face of such an experience. Instead, Kalen felt at peace. Safe. He had even… enjoyed how roughly the gryphon had handled him. The realization poisoned Kalen, placing a pit of sickness deep in his gut. He briefly entertained the idea that the bird had somehow done this to him, changed his mind so he would enjoy it. Kalen, in searching himself, though, knew deep down that his feeling was no result of another creature’s manipulation. He choked, suddenly incredibly aware of his surroundings. He pounded weakly on his prison, managing only a croak.
 
“Out. Out!” There was a pause of only a few seconds, which seemed to stretch onward and outward to Kalen, an unending eternity as toxic thoughts swirled about the base of his mind like cold water. What if the Cefyrn couldn’t hear or feel him? What if the beast just didn’t care? It would be a fitting way to be ended, after what he had done. What had he been thinking, asking that creature to eat him, like some sort of offal? His train of thought was interrupted by the world around him convulsing. His exit was much gentler than the entry. Perhaps the gryphon had sensed something wrong, or merely did not feel the need to continue being rough now that the excitement was over. Whatever the reasoning, in short order Kalen ended up laying on the cold stone once more covered in… covered in… Kalen forced himself to take a deep breath. He heard Cefyrn stretching behind him, feathers rustling as he moved.
 
 
“That language you spoke to those humans. I want to know it. You will teach it to me. I will also know why they were here. It seems I cannot leave you alone for even an evening without you managing to put yourself in danger.” The gryphon’s beak was suddenly very close to his ear. “Perhaps I should just always take you with me.” Kalen couldn’t take it. He shouldered Cefyrn’s beak roughly away from him, scrabbling away from that terrible creature, creating some distance, any distance. Cefyrn stood silent, eyes scrunched up in confusion. Their eyes met and for a just an instant Kalen’s breath caught in the back of his throat. The deep orange around the pupils, even hidden mostly as they were behind the avian’s expression, seemed to pull the ambient light around them, the soft light of the fire playing across them. With a supreme bout of effort, Kalen managed to wrenched his eyes from the visage. His back slammed up against the far wall of the cave.
 
 
There was a long silence, save the crackling of the fire. Kalen stared at it, hoping it would rob him of his thoughts.
 
 
“Have I done something wrong?” It was Cefyrn who spoke, finally.
 
 
“Yes! You -” The words died on Kalen’s lips. He’d looked at those eyes again. Filled not with confusion, nor anger, but rather a deep sadness. The bird saw him looking and fixed upon the ground some distance to Kalen’s left. In that moment Kalen felt something in him tear, an awful coldness spreading across his body, washing out his emotions and leaving him hollow. Kalen sucked down a breath, hands tightly balled.
 
 
Another silence stretched between them.
 
 
“No. You haven’t.” Kalen let out the tension pent up in his body with a long sigh. The fire tried weakly to fill the space between them. Kalen wordlessly dragged himself across the cave, leaving a thin trail of wet as he went, to the deer, which he began disassembling.
 
 
  The sun had long since kissed the horizon and slipped away, leaving only the dim stars and now smouldering fire to fight the darkness, when the two of them finally ate. Kalen sat, facing toward the night sky with the fire to his back, sullenly staring at the cubes of meat in the rough wooden bowl in his hands. Normally he enjoyed cooking, but he hadn’t been able to focus long enough to appreciate it this time. His thoughts were tangled, pulling apart any coherent string he tried to create. He couldn’t stop turning over what had happened, his feelings.
 
 
“This is… Actually good.” Cefyrn sounded surprised. “Cooked food. Interesting. I will have to have more in future.” Kalen shook himself out of his stupor and tried to smile. It was a wan imitation.
 
 
“I’m glad you liked it.” Kalen knew he was doing a poor job of sounding enthused. “I think I’m going to retire, now. See you in the morning.” Cefyrn watched him, but said nothing. Kalen pulled the completely inadequate blanket he carried in his day pack about himself, curling up as close to the dying remains of the fire as he dared. The cold night wind chittered about the space for a time. “Were you serious when you said that?” Kalen broke the silence suddenly.
 
 
“Said what?”
 
 
“You wanted to learn common. I’m not sure I’d be the best teacher.”
 
 
“A bad teacher is better than no teacher.” Kalen pondered that as he tugged the blanket, trying to trap some vestige of warmth before the cold night whisked it away. Eventually, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.