The Thatchmyr

Wingbliss yawned, great claws held wide as she spread her wings to the warmth of the Morning Star. Her movements dislodged a bleef from its branch, which struck a supine Godwin square in the face, whose loud snoring turned into a sputtering SHNOK and then a, “Fuck!” He sat up and craned his neck, glaring as he held his trunk with thick fingers.

“Dou almost broke by dose!”, he shouted up at the griffinlobster.

Wingbliss clicked her mouth parts, eye-stalks rolling. “Hardly. Your rubbery noodle ain’t got any bones in it,”, she called down to the irate trollephant, “and you’ve already slept through three-since Star-Wake and it’ll beat again soon. You should be awake anyway, we need to get moving again.”

Godwin huffed through his bruised trunk. “Well, at least you were decent enough to get me breakfast.”, he rumbled, picking up the hefty bleef with one hand, biting into it and sucking on the meaty juices. “So what of the vinds, any change since Star-Shut?”

“The vinds have mostly cleared out since Star-Wake and flocks are currently jaunty. I haven’t seen any indication that they’ll break out again.” The winged creatures had gathered to critical numbers half-way into their trek and fallen into squabbling idiocy, filling the air with angry bodies and sharp beaks looking to take their aggression out on anything and everything unfortunate enough to be out in the open.

Godwin climbed to his thick feet, taking another bite of the hairy fruit as he scratched at a wrinkled armpit. “Good. One’s hide is only so thick and  club only so effective.” He wiped a bit of juice from his chin as he strode out from under the bleef tree’s sheltering branches, swatting away the fingervines, some still choked with vinds . The trollephant was, of course, far too large to be bothered by the vines or for the vines to be bothered with him. He just couldn’t stand feeling them.

As Godwin stood in the heat of the Morning Star, letting the warmth sink into his scarred, pebbly skin, the next beat occurred. The Morning Star dimmed for just the slightest moment before it slowly began contracting inward. Had Godwin the proper instrument to view it, he would have seen its surface wrinkle in a dull sense of anticipation. With an abrupt flash the Morning Star burst outwards again, returning to full size in almost an instant. Moments later, the beat reached the pair’s location; an echoing, low BOOM that stirred the vinds and caused the sky to ripple from its current dark blue color to a warm lavender.

Four-since. Wingbliss finished her preening and sprung from her perch, glided down to join Godwin. “Think we’ll reach the mountains before Star-Shut?”

“Maybe you will,” he grunted back, “just try not to go farther out than I can see you. I know I’ve been over the fact enough times with you that my eyes aren’t as good as my ears.”

Wingbliss tilted her head to the side and swiveled her eye-stalks, batting at him. “I didn’t know you cared.”

Godwin snorted through his trunk with a lopsided, tusked grin. “Up with you. We have work to do.” Wingbliss turned, curling her armored tail beneath her and launching into the sky as Godwin shouldered his club and lumbered off toward the peaks where the Shiny Thing had last been seen before disappearing.

Wingbliss and Godwin were Collectors, and something new had come to Thatchmyr.

This is an experimental writing project and introduction to Thatchmyr, a place that I just made up a name for about two hours ago. I then started putting down the obvious pieces of a typical adventure narrative using only what came into my head at the moment that I thought of it. Meet Wingbliss the griffinlobster and Godwin the trollephant. All I know about them right now is that one is a griffinlobster, the other is a trollephant, and that they are employed as Collectors. Oh, and they’re heading for something “new”. I know what it is and you don’t, ha-ha. Also the sun is weird and storms are made of angry flying things. Also there’s meat-fruit. Let’s see where this goes; I would sure like to know!

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