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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #2326342
Darragh isn't sure, but what happens is quite the adventure for the young hunter
"You ready?" Ronan looked back at Darragh, who was adjusting himself on the prince's back, the uncertainty plastered on his face made Ronan smirk a little.

"No! What in the gods' names are you plannin'?!" Darragh's grip tightened on Ronan's shirt, the thin cloth keeping his nails from digging into the skin of his palms. He stared out onto the water that crashed against the cliffside, the smell of salt water overwhelmed the hunter's nostrils and heightened his unease.

Ronan let out a laugh in response, his hearty voice rumbling in his chest as he prepared to sprint. "Well, hurry up and get ready then!" His grin widened, determination gleaming like newly polished armor in his eyes. He adjusted the hunter once more on his back, keeping a tight grip around the other man's legs as he mentally prepared himself.

The realization of Ronan's plan slowly dawned on Darragh as he stared into the prince's eyes; The determination in his stare, and the readiness of his stance, it was slowly becoming clearer. Fear began to gnaw at him as he thought about the possibility of crashing into the rocks below the cliff, they erupted out of the water like spikes ready to impale the unlucky.

"W-Wait! Ronan, this isn't-!" Darragh couldn't finish his thought before Ronan began to sprint, the cliff edge approached rapidly with each stride; Darragh could hear his heart pound, almost in time with the heavy footsteps of the prince that carried him. Darragh shut his eyes tightly, bracing for the impact of the rocks, but something unexpected happened in its stead. There was a jolt, the sound of ruffling and flaps, followed by the intense feeling of wind rushing past his face and through his hair.

What had once been Ronan's shirt now felt like... Well, it was coarse, almost oily... The density of it all reminded Darragh of a wolf's pelt. The curiosity ate at him, eventually causing him to slowly open his eyes. When he did, his breath caught in his throat as he stared down at the brown fur that had taken the place of Ronan's skin. His eyes trailed upwards, seeing fur slowly turn to feathers as two giant hawk's wings had erupted from the creature's shoulders, and the head of the beast was what looked like a dire wolf.

Darragh couldn't speak for what felt like centuries--the realization of what had happened hit him like a sack of bricks. His eyes were wide with pure awe and fascination as he stared at the massive creature that he was now riding on. He looked down at the ocean, now nothing more than a blur of blue and white that rushed by far below as it turned into the darkest blues of the sea.

The wolf beast looked back at Darragh, almost smiling as it let out a soft call to break Darragh out of his trance and point his attention to the formation of ships ahead. The sights and realities of their flight left the hunter in a state of stunned amazement; He wasn't sure what he could even say. As they soared past, Darragh saw the flags and sails that carried the sailors, that now looked like small ants in comparison to the two of them.
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