ORIGIN

"Ah." Definitely an unfamiliar phrase, but it fit the bill.

Wings spread out and tail feathers swished to counter the shift of movement below him. Although her hand was remarkably steady, only so much stability could be accomplished with a perch built on a living foundation. His head bobbed with the imbalance, looking more like a waterfowl snapping up a fish than a respectable hawk.

He dug talons harder into that giant's palm and regained solid ground. "A bit of tracking. The study of Lesser anatomy. Sometimes I fail to carry a tune when I think no one's looking." All this was said with a voice flatter than a deer hide.

"I assume this"—East nodded at the skin—"isn't a hobby for you."

What did he search for? It was the sort of question that floated to mind before drifting off to sleep. The type of thought that hung like an old pal beside examinations of one's own worth in a place that cared little of personal aspirations. A dream that loomed above your head and out of reach. There were plenty of answers to such a thing.

Truth, pure and unobscured. A flow of information free from any agenda, undistorted by each individual's reality. There'd be no need for deception then, no reason to pry out knowledge with cautious words and careful steps. All intentions would be clear; no more peering behind closed doors to see fangs glinting and ready for the kill.

Goodness, impervious to the tarnishing effects of life. He'd seen the Lessers, how rats tore and devoured their own, causing pain beyond what was necessary to thrive. Despite what kindness might exist among Greaters, he had no sign to doubt they held the same capacity inside their very stones. Everyone had the capacity for cruelty, whether they succumbed to it in times of stress or chose to embrace it with open arms. What kind acts occurred lasted only as long as the receiver bothered to care about the giver.

Purpose, something beyond his own survival in a world that had lies baked into its very existence.

But none of these East said, staring down at those eyes large enough to be lakes. He saw his reflection judging him, bathed yellow as his convictions, and fell partially to that lying nature: "I don't know. Guess it hasn't found me yet."

No one needed to be weighed down by crises he'd rather futilely solve alone.

"So this here would be sort of practice then," he mused. "If your mother's crafting skill is as tall as you are, that's probably a lot to live up to. Sounds like you've got a good start though."

"Really?"

Shielded from the raging winds, he was still as the center of a storm. Behind that mask he wore for a face, though, the perpetual grind of gears came to a screeching halt. A firm iron bar of fact was wedged between them, and it happened to be the miniscule space hovering between a gargantuan finger and thumb. Something familiar presented itself in the little details given, and a sneaking suspicion explained why that might be. He drew in a slow breath and dragged a memory out on his exhale.

"Well, I'm sure she manages to cast a large shadow anyway if she's that accomplished."

Interest in things that glinted and glittered. Crafts and sells. Located in a certain place known as Pegasus.

The serpent before him was the calm night to the lizard's boisterous day, but the information added up. However, that couldn't be a guarantee—the exchange of goods wasn't unique to small, energetic reptiles. Head taking on an inquisitive tilt, he contemplated aloud. Though it could've been mistaken for a wandering of thought, it was a deliberate verbal prod.

"Got to be a lot of work, especially when you're small. Can't imagine flying to someplace like Polaris with those long distances."

If minds could broadcast their inner workings, his would've been heard loud and clear as a busy but contented hum, the tiny strands of knowledge processed bit by bit until they were finally filed away for future reference. He took her words, that recurring smile, and held them close like the scraps those scavengers would eventually come to brawl over. It wasn't that he was unfeeling, simply that nothing tossed away could go to waste. In more dangerous circumstances, missing a piece of the puzzle meant great harm on the way.

"Rather handy of her," he observed. "But that does go with the trade."

Could he push for a few morsels more? Perhaps. But did he want to? No. Being hard-beaked didn't mean East would drill into another's time.

"And business has you too." Though incapable of the expression itself, understanding and close-lipped amusement permeated his voice. The bird nodded. "Thanks for the, uh, enlightening talk."

Prepared to brave the winds again, his grip began to loosen, wings unfolding slowly from his sides.

Conversation at a close, feet on solid earth, his gaze lifted skyward. An admission was lodged like a bone in his throat. Distance between them now a gulf, to declare anything was to shout above the wind's howl. He cleared away the reluctance and replaced it with unyielding steel.

"Likewise." The parting word rang clear, not as vibrant as a songbird's but good enough for him. It lingered for moments before the sound was swiftly chased away.

Her departure he watched in silence, waiting until even her tail end whisked away from view. And then there was only him, his thoughts, and the scrabbles of some Lessers hidden within fissures of rock. If not for what could still be seen of the corpse or the disturbance left by large footsteps, the encounter might as well have been the entertainment of a lonely imagination.

Hearing her fond talk of family, itself, could have been the dispersing wisps of a daydream. Mind daring to ponder, if only for this instance, his wings caught the next updraft. In a whirl of dark feathers, he rose and grasped for what could never be.