Chapter Text
"That's…" Egg trailed off. His hair stuck to the sweat on Wemmbu's nape as he looked over his shoulder, trying to see past the foliage.
Wemmbu pushed him away with a grunt. "You're so clingy!" he said, more harshly than he meant to. The humid heat was starting to get to him, and it didn't help that he was already annoyed by the trek they made to get up the hill.
Egg protested as he moved away, but Wemmbu's attention remained on the pile of feathers hiding inside the sprawling undergrowth beneath them. It was a vivid blend of green and blue, with yellow highlighting the tips. The parrot was curled up under a plant larger than its entire body, shivering and small, tugging at the pull within Wemmbu's heart—the pull that urged him to venture deep into the jungle at the crack of dawn.
Wemmbu looked within himself. There was a light that smoldered, brighter than the cosmos the world lived under. It craved a need he couldn't provide, something that clawed at his chest, bursting through his ribs and invading his lungs, bestowing him with the power to run through treacherous terrains to reclaim—
A whistle struck his ears, sharp and deafening. The parrot cried in his arms, feathers bent under his claws. All it saw was a curtain of purple, its eyes cloudy, griped with fear and boiling from the intense need to dig into its own skin, to dig into the skin of the being that held it, to dig into the earth and demand the roots to point it home—
The parrot cried again. It cried and cried until a tail grazed its back, curling and coiling until it was brought closer to the light, to the thing that mirrored the burn within it.
The last of the parrot's tears trickled down the side of Wemmbu's arm. It sniffled before prodding at him curiously, cooing at the beating of his heart, pushing at his chest to urge it to move faster. To beat louder. The parrot pressed its cheek against him and stayed there, its wings drooping as the drowsiness took over.
"…Yo."
"I'll defeather you."
Egg backed off, unsure if he would actually do it. Just in case, he tucked his wings away. "Are you keeping that?" he asked skeptically.
Wemmbu thought it over. They were children, hardly able to reach shelves and countertops. Their meals consisted of nothing but the scraps of a wolf's prey, barely cooked from the campfire that always took too long to set up. Egg's clothes had holes that exceeded the usual amount, and that wasn't counting the ones Wemmbu cut for his wings.
Despite every rational thought, Wemmbu held the parrot close. He imagined letting go of its tiny body, leaving it tucked under leaves that would wither in the winter. No other would hear its cries. No starving predator would ever consider mercy.
Wemmbu crooned, low and mournful. He curled into himself, drawing the parrot even closer. It chirped as it felt itself move, its feathers puffing momentarily.
Egg was by his side in seconds. "Guess we'll be babysitting for a bit," he said. He had always been too eager to please. Sometimes, Wemmbu wished he would be comfortable enough to throw a fit when things don't go his way, or demand things from him with an entitled pout.
"You think it eats seeds like a normal bird?" Egg asked. He doesn't wait for Wemmbu to answer. The grass by his feet were plentiful enough for Egg to easily gather, and he ripped it off the soil with a quick grunt. A handful of seeds flew up from the sudden pull, catching the parrot's attention.
CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP
The parrot chirped excitedly, its wings flapping like an ocelot's legs, rapid and frantic, uncaring as it kept hitting Wemmbu square in the face.
"Egg!" Wemmbu shouted. The parrot escaped his grasp and bolted towards the scattered seeds, hands already outstretched and ready to grab its meal from the dirt.
Egg caught it on time, holding it high up in the air. "I got it, I got it!" he shouted frantically.
The parrot squawked, stunned from the situation it got itself into. It remained still and pliant until its stomach began twisting unpleasantly from the hunger. For days now, it had been starving. It was too weak to look for food and too young to know how. The seeds were the only thing that sustained it while it wandered, and it didn't know why the two children were preventing it from eating. The parrot kicked and thrashed, chirping so loud it echoed throughout the entire forest. Tears began to gather in the corner of its eyes, and it sobbed, inconsolable.
Egg went pale and dropped the parrot almost instantly.
"Crap!" Wemmbu yelled as he lunged forward, catching the parrot by the head right before it could collide with a nearby rock.
"Sorry!" Egg said in a panic, crouching beside Wemmbu's heaving body. Egg surveyed the situation, only relaxing once he spotted the still-sobbing parrot inside the protective curl of Wemmbu's arms.
Wemmbu shook his head. His heart was beating too fast for comfort, but the parrot seemed to like the way it drummed against its body. It warbled at him, tiny hands patting his chest in tune with the frantic organ, nuzzling into it with another pitiful sob.
"You okay?" Wemmbu asked his guilty-looking friend, despite the bruises that began to form on his tough skin. Despite him being the one who was hurt.
Egg was only a day younger than Wemmbu, but the way his eyes rounded out at the question made him seem as young as the parrot.
"…I'll help you up," Egg said instead of answering. Wemmbu always looked out for him even at the cost of his own well-being. It was something Egg never really expected their relationship to develop into, back when they first met. He could only ever be grateful that the universe aligned so perfectly in his favor.
Wemmbu doesn't comment on Egg's deflection. He accepted the hand offered to him, lightening his body so that Egg got the impression that he pulled him up with his own strength, and sat up with the parrot still secure in his arms.
"It's so thin," Wemmbu observed. Not that they were any better, but at least Egg had some fat on his cheeks. At the reminder, Wemmbu impulsively decided to pull on it.
"That hurts!" Egg slapped his hand away, his wings raising high in warning.
The pristine, white feathers caught the parrot's eye, and it chirped in surprise. It had been so long since its seen another with feathered wings!
Wemmbu laughed when he noticed the parrot's interest. "Yo, this kid thinks you're its mother!"
"Dude." Egg flushed in embarrassment. He tried to wrangle his wings back into place, but he was too young to control it properly. It didn't help that he no longer had an adult to help him with its growth. Frustrated, Egg settled for crossing his arms and glaring at his friend, ignoring the way the parrot reached out for him with its wings flapping in tune with its emotions, trying to copy the arch of Egg's wings.
"Aw," Wemmbu cooed. Even as the parrot tried its best to get ahold of Egg, it never let go of the tight grip it had on his tattered shirt. If anything, it kept pulling on him and pointing at Egg with the insistence of a spoiled prince who always got his way.
Any other child his age would feel at least a little bit miffed at being ordered around. But Wemmbu? Well, there was only one thought in his mind. If Egg suddenly started to act as presumptuous as this parrot—crying at every inconvenience, climbing on his back without asking just because his feet hurt a tiny bit—then Wemmbu would know right then that his life's goal had been completed.
The parrot slapped its hand on Wemmbu's bony collarbone, growing more aggressive the longer Wemmbu didn’t respond.
Pay attention to me, the parrot chirped out. It did not yet realize that its new companions couldn't comprehend its language, so the perceived disregard to its calls made its heart sink in deep sorrow. Surely, the two children were not so cruel as to let it die from starvation?
"I think it's hungry," Egg speculated, finally noticing the way the parrot had been trying to catch Wemmbu's attention.
Wemmbu snapped out of his trance immediately, and the parrot once again chirped, though the exact tone teetered on the edge of offense. Not that Wemmbu nor Egg could tell.
"Right," Wemmbu agreed. He adjusted his hold on the parrot, reaching into his satchel for something it could eat. They didn't have much, since the trip hadn't been planned, but Wemmbu always packed the one snack they could rely on.
"Hey birdie," Wemmbu called with a repeated click of his tongue. The parrot twittered at the attention it finally got, eager to see what scraps Wemmbu had to offer, only to shriek as it was presented with the most horrible stench it has ever smelled in its entire life.
"Bro!" Egg yelled, slapping the rotten flesh away from the gagging parrot. "It's a bird hybrid! It eats seeds!"
"Those seeds are covered in dirt, I'm not feeding it that!"
"But rotten flesh is okay?!"
The parrot sobbed again as frustration began to take over. Suddenly, the pleasant warmth of the shining sun turned into harsh rays, causing sweat to squeeze out of its pores and leave it a sticky mess. It hated the way its feathers stuck to it, the way it felt on its back, its wings, crooked and dirty, growing in all the wrong directions. The parrot tugged at Wemmbu's shirt, begging him to fix what was bothering it.
There was nothing Wemmbu could do, however. How could he provide the needs of a child when he was nothing but a child himself? He couldn't understand what it was asking for. The only thing he knew was that it was starving, and that he had to feed it or else death would come for the soul it housed inside its tiny body.
"How far away are we from the nearest village?" Wemmbu asked Egg. He soothed the parrot by patting its back, unknowingly cooling it with his icy skin. The tearful parrot burrowed deeper into his neck, still sobbing.
Egg thought for a moment. When nothing came to mind, he dug into Wemmbu's satchel and pulled out his book, skimming through his admittedly horrid handwriting with a concentrated frown. "It's about a hundred blocks from here," Egg said loudly, over the parrot's cries.
Wemmbu started walking. "Which direction?"
Egg reached for Wemmbu's tail before suddenly hesitating. He wasn't sure if he was welcome to just grab onto such a sensitive appendage. If someone he didn't particularly like held onto his wings, he'd throw a fit. So far, only Wemmbu was allowed close to it.
Not once did Egg consider that he, too, might be the only person Wemmbu considered trustworthy enough to handle his precious tail.
"North," Egg said instead of manhandling Wemmbu. When Wemmbu continued walking in the wrong direction, Egg sighed. "You're hopeless."
They walked.
The parrot had calmed now that Wemmbu kept it cool, but it still let out heartbreaking little whimpers as its stomach resumed feasting on itself.
Wemmbu hardly remembered his childhood. The start of his memories began with Egg's fearful eyes. He had never known a life without him. He did not exist in the days that led up to their meeting. His stomach only ever growled when he sacrificed the day's meal to Egg's gluttonous appetite, but even then he felt full.
What must the parrot's tiny body be experiencing? If he were to stand it up, it would barely reach Egg's knee. And Egg was the shortest person he knew.
In the near future, Wemmbu would regret mocking Egg's nonexistent height. Spite was a powerful motivator, and Egg was exactly the type of person who would hold all his wins—and hand—over Wemmbu's head.
For now though, Egg only reached past his chin, and Wemmbu remained oblivious to his fate.
"Are we there yet?" Wemmbu asked again. He should be relieved that the parrot stopped its noisy cries, but starvation along with silence never mixed well.
Egg shook his head. "We're near, though."
"How much further?" Wemmbu insisted, pulling the unconscious parrot closer.
Egg doesn't reply. Wemmbu needed an outlet for his worry, but Egg had to focus on navigating the jungle. The maze of towering trees didn't make his job easy. If he lost focus, he would second-guess every turn, and their timely arrival to the nearest medic was crucial. He wasn't sure where they'd get the money for such services, but Wemmbu would figure it out. He always does. Worst comes to worst, they'll run and leave the parrot somewhere that always had extra food in the pantry.
"I see it!" Wemmbu announced.
Egg saw it too. Compact little houses peeked over the hill, making up most of the structures in the village. It was one of their favorite places to visit, since many things were built for people closer to their size; it made it easier to steal if they didn't have to stack up just to see where the bread was.
"Yo, is it even still breathing?" Egg asked as they made their way to the village doctor. The parrot lay still against Wemmbu's chest, its wings limp and tears dry. Many were eyeing them in concern, some in suspicion. But they let them be. Such a tiny community wouldn't be used to confrontation, especially with strangers.
"It's alive," Wemmbu said firmly, pointedly ignoring any other outcome. He lifted the parrot further into his neck when it started to slip, his hold clumsy. Never has he carried a child younger than Egg, it was to be expected that he didn't know that his arms needed to be in a certain position to properly support such a small body.
Egg said nothing further.
Finally, they stood in front of a house that bore an old sign. Etched on the painted wood was a potion, red like apples and glowing with tentative hope. Egg glanced at Wemmbu, waiting for his permission.
Wemmbu just stared. Egg needed to learn how to make his own decisions. Someday, Wemmbu won't be there to look out for him, and that possibility wasn't mere speculation, but an unequivocal fact. A world where Wemmbu outlived Egg was a world that couldn't possibly exist.
"Do— do you want me to knock?" Egg asked hesitantly. At Wemmbu's unimpressed look, he grimaced and nodded to himself.
Egg knocked. The sound was loud in his ears, louder than the beating of his heart. What if this was the wrong move? What if he endangered Wemmbu just by coming here? What if they got the wrong house—
"I'll be just a moment!" a voice shouted, though slightly muffled from their distance from the door. Wemmbu pushed Egg back with his tail, covering his body with his own. If it came to it, he'll bite through skin and bone and shove the tiny parrot in Egg's tiny arms and force them to run.
Like he sensed Wemmbu's thoughts, Egg shifted closer to him. The tail that formed a circular barrier around him followed his subtle movements, shrinking until it touched Egg's back as he clung onto Wemmbu's shirt. There was no dislodging him now.
The door creaked open.
Feathers. Yellow in color, once again the first thing that caught Wemmbu's eye. The shock was obvious on the man's face as he looked down at the three of them.
"Dear god," he said faintly, his eyes locked onto the parrot in Wemmbu's arms. "Come in, quick, quick!" He opened the door wide and ushered them in. His distress was prominent, but his wings didn't reflect the intensity of his emotions. Not like Egg whose feathers were puffed from uncertainty.
"What happened?" another voice called from inside. More feathers, but this time the colors were an ashy gray.
Yellow—Wemmbu named—rushed to the cabinets. "There's kids hurt, can you fetch the kit? And maybe some food as well."
At the mention of food, Wemmbu and Egg eyed each other. The moment the two avians weren't looking, after they've patched the parrot up, they'll rob them blind and run.
"Can I see him?" Yellow asked gently. His hand was outstretched and open. There didn't seem to be any weapons around, nothing except the axe hung by the door, but Wemmbu was closer to that than the man was. Then again, adults wouldn't need a weapon to hurt a child.
Hesitant, Wemmbu tightened his hold on the parrot. He could barely feel its breath. The energy it exhibited earlier had depleted, and there was no telling if it would ever regain it again. Not unless Wemmbu took the risk.
The parrot remained limp even when he nudged it. Fear iced his veins, and Wemmbu made his decision instantly. It didn't matter if the man beat him within an inch of his life. It didn't matter if they cut his tail and sold it to the markets. All Wemmbu would do was ask if they needed his horns too.
It didn't matter. As long they didn't lay a hand on Egg. As long as the parrot lived and had the chance to experience the consequences of eating seeds covered in dirt, it didn't matter.
Wemmbu walked towards the man.
"Poor fledgling," Yellow cooed at the parrot. Pin feathers grew near its ear, spiky and sensitive, most of them bled raw. Its wings were encased in dirt, and mites latched onto the tender surface of the skin. Its cheeks were hollow, bones protruding from every limb, and it grew paler and paler from dehydration. How had this little one survived?
The medic quickly got to work.
Wemmbu kept a close eye on his surroundings, never straying from the open door. Though he and Egg were familiar with the village, they've never taken the time to interact with the residents. They had no clue if any of them were trustworthy.
"Hey, you kids," the ashy-feathered avian called. She had returned with the med kit Yellow had asked for earlier, but she left just as quickly. Now she came back again with a tray filled with a plate of steak, some bread and carrots—and god, even a stew!
Wemmbu has never seen such a varied plate of food gathered in one place. There has to be a catch. Did they want the parrot in exchange for their full stomachs? Did they want Egg?
The gray-feathered avian waited for Wemmbu to inspect her hastily made meal. It wasn't much, but that was all they had prepared. If only she and her husband had known that three starving children would be visiting their home, they would have cooked up a feast!
"It's safe," Wemmbu said, practically shoving the bread at his friend's face. "Eat, eat quickly." Their faces were close enough for Egg to hear Wemmbu when he whispered. "Before they take it away, finish it all. Don't leave me any and just eat."
Guilty was Egg when he did not protest and just obeyed Wemmbu's words. It was true that he had been hungry. They never found anything for dinner the night before, and that morning was filled with hour-long walks and Wemmbu's feverish search for the parrot. Not that Wemmbu knew what he was supposed to be looking for when he first left their home.
"Are you not hungry?" the gray avian asked Wemmbu.
Wemmbu frowned at her before crossing his arms. "No."
"Are you sure?" she insisted. "You're just as skinny as your friend."
The gray avian didn't mean any harm. Wemmbu knew that—at least until she proved otherwise. But her drawing attention to Egg made him bristle, his tail flicking in aggravation.
"Mind your business, lady!" Wemmbu snapped, baring his dull fangs. He regretted his impulsiveness immediately. If the young couple didn't plan on harming them before, they certainly do now. Still, Wemmbu doesn't take back his words. There has yet to come a day where pride did not cloud his judgement.
The gray avian was quiet. It would be a lie to say that she didn't feel even slightly insulted. She had offered the children food and kindness out of the goodness of her own heart, and they had repaid her with nothing but ungrateful hostility. But she knew how to control her emotions. She was grown, and these were children. The best course of action was to ignore them.
"Honey," she called to her husband. "Do you need anything else from me?"
"No, not at the moment." The medic was diligent at dressing the parrot's wounds. The burning stare at his back made sure of it. "Go rest for now, I'll yell when I need you."
She left with a nod.
Wemmbu waited until she disappeared before focusing back on Egg. The savory smell of the stew tickled his nose, making his mouth water. He doesn't reach for it. He ate his fill by watching Egg stuff himself full like a happy, fat turkey.
"Is it good?" Wemmbu asked curiously, drool staining the bottom of his lip.
Egg paused with a roasted carrot halfway into his mouth. He placed it back down on the plate, suddenly without appetite.
"I'm full now," he said, trying his best to seem uncaring. He fooled no one but the target of his lies. "You can have the rest."
The tray was pushed towards Wemmbu.
"For real?" Wemmbu exclaimed in surprise. However much he claimed that he was content with just seeing Egg sated, his stomach never ceased its furious gnawing. Before Egg could change his mind, Wemmbu snatched the half-eaten bowl of stew from the tray and shoved a spoonful of the soup into his salivating mouth.
Flavor exploded on his tongue, unfamiliar and almost too strong to bear. Wemmbu would take the time to savor every new texture and taste if he didn't have to prioritize getting rid of the starvation that haunted him from birth.
The two children were oblivious to the glances the medic stole at them. It was a bittersweet feeling to see how much a young child could enjoy the taste of bland food. They had run out of spices the day before, and the young couple had thoughtlessly spat out what they ate, simultaneously agreeing on dumping the whole pot if the children hadn't knocked on their doors first.
He sighed quietly. The parrot remained still on the bed, breathing and alive. A terrible chest-ache began to spread the longer he stared at its pitiful expression. Will these children survive once they left the safety of his home? Will they die an agonizing death from starvation? Will they know how to dress their wounds to prevent it from getting infected? Every horrifying scenario filled the medic's brain.
He needn't worry, though. In the far future, every child under Wemmbu's clumsy care had thrived wondrously.
The medic would never learn of that fact. No closure would ever be given to him.
Once they parted, their purpose in each other's lives will have run its course. The universe will never require them to meet again.
"He's okay now," the medic spoke up once Wemmbu finished eating. The child had stashed the remaining bread in his satchel, unable to forget the starving parrot's wounded cries—along with the way it had gone horrifyingly limp in his arms.
Wemmbu was still unwilling to get close to the man he privately named Yellow. He was bigger than he was, with long arms and even longer wings that could easily catch him if he tried to escape. For a child who already experienced harm so profoundly, it was understandable for him to be so paranoid.
The medic sensed Wemmbu's hesitation. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked gently.
Unsure if it was a trick question, Wemmbu remained silent.
Yellow got up and left.
"Hurry, Egg!" Wemmbu immediately sprung to action, practically leaping towards the tightly bundled parrot dozing on the fluffy bed. "Grab the valuables—potions, clothes—just grab everything you can carry!"
The mattress was bare by the time Wemmbu secured the parrot in his arms. Sheets were spread on the floor, a variety of items scattered in the middle. Wemmbu quickly tied it shut and gave it to Egg to carry. The parrot remained unconscious as he moved him in one arm, his other hand reaching out for his friend as they hurried to the door.
Right before they could leave, Wemmbu spotted the axe that hung just slightly out of reach. Without wasting a second, he shoved the parrot in Egg's arms and leapt up from the ground, his fingers curling securely around the handle as he landed, taking it with him. His satchel distended comically from the weapon's size as he shoved it inside without care. He'd much rather pay attention to the way he handled the slumbering parrot, to the way he gripped Egg's wrist as they finally rushed outside.
No one stopped them. Maybe they sensed the urgency. Maybe they cared not for the stolen belongings of another. Wemmbu didn't dwell on it too much, just focusing on Egg's frantic voice as he directed their route.
The sun had set halfway when they made it back to the familiar terrain of their home. Sweet berries led their path, placed meticulously by Egg and Wemmbu when they lost count of how many times they'd gotten lost. Ferns of varying sizes brushed against the two children's legs as they made their way past the towering spruce trees. With the setting of the sun, barely any light pierced through the leaves. Wemmbu had to rely on his superior vision to guide them away from ditches.
"We're here," he whispered to the bleary Egg. Wemmbu ducked under the shrubbery first, taking great care not to let any branches hit the parrot's face, then held the dense leaves up for Egg to walk through without risking a smack to the head.
Once Egg crossed, Wemmbu took hold of his wrist again and led them to the entrance of their home. It was not a door they walked towards to. It was not a cube with four wooden walls and an impregnable roof.
Hidden deep within the Taiga forest, just small enough to ignore, was a maw of stone.
A cave. A homely cave, with soft wool sheared from dead sheeps, lit up with flickering lanterns that didn't work half of the time. In the corner was a pathetic stack of ores, kept right next to the bed farthest from the curtain of vines they proclaimed as the door.
Egg grunted once he was finally able to place down their goods. His legs ached from the long trek, but he hardly felt it from the still-simmering adrenaline. It was only when he got ready to collapse on the pitiful mattress they called a bed did he realize just how dirty he was.
"Ugh," Egg groaned. His ratty shirt was taken off immediately. "Wemmbu, I'll be in the pond!"
Wemmbu acknowledged him half-heartedly. He dragged their only pillow towards the middle of the bed and laid the parrot down on it. Its wings fluttered as it moved, its fingers twitching involuntarily. Wemmbu smiled. Once he made sure it was comfortable, he left its side and walked over to the bundle of stolen items Egg threw haphazardly on the cave floor.
A few bottled potions were broken, the liquid seeping through the fabric. Glass shards dug into the oversized clothes Egg had grabbed. Wemmbu sorted through them, planning on washing it all with their newly acquire sheets come morning.
By the time Egg wandered back inside, pleasantly clean and tired, Wemmbu already finished organizing their stuff. Damp hair cooled Wemmbu's palm when he gave Egg a quick pat as they passed each other, with Egg heading towards the bed and Wemmbu to the pond for a hasty wash.
Egg finally collapsed on the bed, wings spread over the shivering parrot, blanketing it in warmth. Despite the exhaustion, his eyes wouldn't droop without Wemmbu around. Even if he knew that his friend was only a few blocks away, he had gotten used to the weight of a tail as he slept. The habit would fade eventually—is what Egg kept telling himself.
His adult self would later discover that not only did the habit fail to fade, it had also gotten worse. Still, the young Egg held out hope.
"You're still awake?" Wemmbu asked after some time, as he made his way towards the bed. He climbed on the mattress, lifting one of Egg's wings and settling under it with a relieved sigh. His skin was icy on Egg's feathers, but Egg had gotten used to it over the years. He barely even flinched at the feeling anymore.
"Passing out now," Egg mumbled drowsily.
Wemmbu snorted. His dull nails, not yet growing into the sharp claws he had as an adult, scratched Egg's scalp. He had once seen a mother soothe her child in the exact same manner, and though Wemmbu may not remember it anymore, his subconscious had adopted the practice.
Lulled by the gentle sensation, Egg slowly began to drift off. He was full and warm with Wemmbu by his side. He dared not wish for anything more—only that their days remained just as peaceful when they grew older.
"Go to sleep," Wemmbu said gently.
Egg slept.