Stop Being Dramatic

One moment he was begging for death and the next moment the ground was moving. It made Kite feel rather nauseous, so he squeezed his eyes shut tight. Squeezing his eyes shut made little stars dance behind his eyelids and the little man couldn't help but giggle. He felt so floaty. The bumps in the ground didn't bother him as he was tugged and pulled around because he was a feather. Feathers didn't bruise. They were light as air. He was definitely a feather right now. Did the angel know that he was a feather? It must know. It moved him so easily. Kite got so lost in his inner musings that he didn't even see Noko. He did see some weird tree skipping along beside him, little puffs of green leaves in its branch-like arms. That was a strange thing, but if an angel was dragging him away, how could he not believe that trees had legs? Kite also didn't realize where he was headed until the den blocked out the light.

Blinking, Kite groaned a bit, but ended up making little happy sounds when Octave curled up around him. Was this death? Was the angel going to smother him here? Murmuring and rolling, Kite ended up on his back, little paws drawn up to his chest. He looked up with big aqua eyes that still blurred and swam with spots. Hey, the angel looked a little like... "You look like a nice boy that I met once." Reaching up with both paws, he patted the pale wolf's cheeks twice, very lightly. "Very handsome." Then his herb addled mind took over. "Haaaaaaandsome. Haaaaaaaaaand..." And he proceeded to wiggle his paws in front of his eyes.

A loud growl startled Kite and he dropped his paws, eyes going wide momentarily. It happened again and at first he thought that it was the angel, but then he realized that it was his own stomach. "My stomach hurts," he admitted with a frown. "I shouldn't have eaten those herbs." Again, the little wolf curled into a ball, wrapping his arms across his sore stomach.

Words