T is for Tale: the second tale - Part 7

 Pock spent the rest of the day, weaving in between the rocks and fighting against the oceans pull with Read on his back. Reads legs were all at work: searching for feathers, collecting them, drying them by hanging the feathers off of Pock's dorsal fin, and all the while deciding on what would be the best way to tie them to his tentacles.

 The gulls and other birds squawked and screamed and laughed at the two swimmers. No one could fly without being a flyer, no one.  

 At the end of the day Pock dove down deep in to the water and brought up some heavy rocks to keep the feathers from flying away on their own. Read thanked him for the hundredth time that day. What would he do without his friend? He worried about how he would be able to see him when he was flying.

 "That's silly. You'll just come and visit me." Pock said when he voiced his fears, "We're friends, aren't we?"

 Read spent that night with all of his arms wrapped around Pock as he swam in his lazy circles. Even though he had never slept outside of a cave or jar, he was safe with his friend, and he fell asleep instantly.

 

 A loud bang woke the two up with a start. Pock dashed behind a rock when he saw the large dark shape above them.

 "What's that?!" Read whispered loudly to his friend.

 "I have no idea." 

 They swam slowly put of their hiding place and up towards the surface. But Read couldn't help but notice the trail of feathers that followed the falling object. That hadn't been a bird had it?

 When they broke the surface a cloud of smoke greeted them. Read coughed in surprise and plunged back into the water.

 "What was that?"

 "Smoke." Pock said, "Something is burning."

 "Burning?" Read asked.

 "It's when something becomes nothing. When you burn something it becomes dust."

 Read broke the surface once again and called up at the birds, "What's going on? Is everyone still something?"

 "Get away, swimmer!" A bird called, "Get away!"

 "Nowhere to go, swimmer!" Another screamed, "Its all your fault!"

 "What are you talking about?"

 "You brought the fire because we took the wings. You're a swimmer! Not allowed to fly!"

 Read looked at them confused and then gasped, swimming over the rocks that held his makeshift wings. There was nothing there. They had been stolen.

 "How could you!" Read yelled at the birds.

 "Not a swimmer!" One yelled.

 Read dove back into the water. His tears melting away into the salty warmth. Pock, however, could not be fooled.

 "What happened?" He asked.

 "They took the wings. And they say I brought fire." Read said.

 "Well if you did shouldn't they give them back?" Pock offered.

 "They've probably destroyed them. Those rotten creatures." Read said.

 "They're not rotten, Read. They just don't understand and they're scared right now." Pock said, "You have to give them time to accept that you want to do this. You have to show them that you can."

 "But I can't do that without the feathers." Read cried.

 "We shall collect more feathers." Pock offered. 

 There was a splash above them.

 The bird squeaked around in the water and hurriedly tried to swim back up to the surface. Pock glided his way towards the wriggling bird.

 "Spiky! Spiky!" The bird flapped its wings and wrapped itself tight int he seaweed that was floating nearby. 

 Read dashed forward this time, flyers didn't seem to know how to swim very well at all and he wasn't going to be rotten like they were to him. He grabbed the bird and pulled the seaweed off and popped its head out of the water all in one fell swoop.

 The bird didn't move.

 "Aren't you going to fly?" Read asked.

 "Must not move. The spiky will get me." It said, barely opening its beak.

 "Were you one of them who took the wings?" Pock asked, baring his several rows of teeth.

 "No!" The bird squealed. 

 "Then I've got no problem with you." Pock shrugged and swam off.

 The gull sighed and folded its wings properly. Read watched the sky with it for several seconds before he summoned the courage to speak to the flyer. He wanted to ask about his wings and about flying and about the air, but he knew what he should do and knew how he could do it.

 "I have a plan to help your friends in the sky."

T is for Tale: the second tale - Part 6

Back to the blog! Sigh. Getting wrapped up in life is fun but can also be very tiring when you've got nowhere to unwind. Writing, when it isn't the novel, is such a relaxing thing for me so I'm back to Read and Pock. Sadly their adventure is soon coming to an end. 
But! I have a surprise when the story finishes.  

--"Why don't you get on my back and we can talk to them together. I don't want you to get hurt." Pock said.
Read smiled. He was lucky to have such a good friend and he knew it. Pock and him were a team. He swam over and wrapped his tentacles around the large dorsal fin and braced himself for impact as Pock rose up towards the rippling end of the ocean.--

  It was like being struck in the face by the most powerful current out there. Read gasped and wrapped every single one of his tentacle around the large shark beneath him. His eyes screwed shut and he was armed and ready to shoot ink at any creature that might have the indecency to attack such a terrified little octopus.
  He waited like that, squished down against his friend, unwilling to let for even a second.
  "Read," Pock said softly, "You're going to want to see this."
  Did he? Read didn't relax for a minute, but for his friend he opened just one eye. He relaxed every single muscle instantly.
  There were thousands of birds in every direction. Swooping and screaming and flapping their wings back and forth; building up speed and dropping down into the water before shooting out once again. Read watched wide-eyed and raised up two of his long arms as the bird swooshed by. The sweet new tingle of the air blowing past him shoot up his arms and made him laugh with anticipation.

 "I want to do that! I want to fly!" Read called out to the birds and Pock.

 "Fly?" Cried one of the birds, "Swimmers aren't flyers."

 "Yes, you can't fly without feathers." Squawked a seagull.

 "Swimmers will never fly, we're different." Another bird declared.

 Pock growled, "If we're so different, how come you can swim too?" 

 "We can float." A gull said, "You sink."

 "See?" The first bird declared, "Completely different."

 "But we've come all the way from the bottom of the ocean." Read said, dropping his arms. He looked at the long squishy members and then at the birds fluffy wings. That's what he saw in his dreams as well. The birds shook their heads at him, repeating their disbelief and flew off. The giant cloud of birds landed on the face if the rock, as soft and elegant in landing as they were in flight.

 "How do I get those arms?" Read asked.

 "Wings?" Pock asked, "If you ask me, you're better off without them. Those feather brains don't know their heads from their tails, that's what happens when you've got hollow bones. Hollow minds."

 "They have hollow bones?" Read gasped.

 "To fly. They need to be light." Pock explained.

 "I don't have bones at all! I must be able to!" Read exclaimed, "All we need to do is get me some feathers."

 "What are you going to do with feathers?" Pock asked.

 "We're going to make me some wings." Read declared.