Pug found the act of riding another creature as it flew to be a curious experience. It was certainly little different from riding in a wagon or carriage to spare his feet from walking, but it still galled him to have another ferry him about. Some part of him felt as though the sky was his domain, and being outclassed like this was an affront to his fairy pride. He tamped the feeling down as Danica maneuvered, swooping low over the treetops with her wings seemingly a hair’s breadth of the leaves. Whatever reason she had for dropping altitude so perilously was lost on him, though the rapid execution of it confirmed to him he’d had no chance of beating an owl when it came to flight. Even if he could, he certainly wasn’t strong enough to tote Lina along.

Thinking about his gnome friend triggered a sudden flash of concern. Pug pushed himself upright, hands still buried in Danica’s feathers and gripping tightly to stop himself from being pulled off of her back by the wind. He looked over his shoulder to check on Lina, finding her hunched over beside him with her face pale and her hands in a deathgrip on the feathers beneath her. If the gnome’s abuse of her feathers caused any discomfort, Danica kept it to herself. Poor Tourmaline had beads of sweat on her forehead, an amazing feat given the headwind they were facing tended to wick away moisture. Pug shifted himself over and leaned into her, using his head and shoulder to create an impromptu shelter to diminish the noise of the wind enough for them to speak.

“Are you alright?” Pug asked his friend.

Several seconds passed without comment, Lina simply turning to stare at him through slitted eyes. He frowned and nudged Tourmaline with his elbow, prompting the gnome to respond with a bout of low, fierce grumbling.

“What was that?” Pug asked.

“I said ‘stop bothering me’ you stupid little fairy.” Lina growled at him while her eyes, barely visible through the crook of her elbow, eyed him venomously.

“Right, my mistake.” Pug replied, lifting one hand in an assuaging gesture. He couldn’t hold her attitude against her, the terror and helplessness she must be experiencing far greater than he could understand. Worse came to worst, he could at least fly to the ground if he fell off.

Having no good conversational partners, Tourmaline being too terrified and Danica being too far to hear him over the wind, Pug found himself letting his thoughts wander. He found it interesting the newly minted owl matriarch was willing to carry on her back. Her reputation would suffer for it, certainly. Though her reputation was likely to be rather poor anyways, considering she led an insurrection by the owls’ mortal enemy. His worries, suitably mulled over, morphed into new worries, as they were wont to do. He hoped they were still operating within Baba’s timeframe, they would arrive on time. He hoped he’d know what he was looking for when they got to the Hearth, the old witch giving them little more than ‘Go here and you’ll find something helpful.’ Pug found himself unable to resist the urge to count the days since he, Lina, and Slink had begun their journey, desperate to assure himself they were still on time.

Pug knew rehashing the same concerns in an endless loop wasn’t accomplishing anything, however there was nothing available to distract himself with. Danica was too busy flying and was unlikely to want to talk to him in any case, Lina was far too wrapped up in her admittedly justified fear of heights to engage with him, and the novelty of seeing the treetops from above had worn on him. It was with no small amount of gratitude he greeted the rising sun, its blazing edge just beginning to peak past the horizon. His joy grew to outright elation as he realized Danica was slowing and bleeding altitude, a wide banking turn bringing them into the canopy below. The owl slid between the boughs with practiced precision, spreading her wings wide and beating back the air to kill the last of her forward momentum. She hovered for a moment before realizing Tourmaline wasn’t getting off anywhere but ground level. Forced to abandon her prior plan of perching on a branch in the trees, Danica dropped the last few paces to the ground.

Pug leapt free of Danica’s back once she touched down, letting out a squawk of surprise as his legs gave way under his weight and sent him into a sprawl in the dirt. Spitting out dirt and churned up plant matter he turned and saw Lina still clinging tightly to Danica’s back, the owl matriarch regarding him with an exasperated and helpless expression. Pug sighed and struggled to his feet before leaping back on Danica’s back with a flutter of his wings. He gently shook Lina, murmuring soft reassurances they were, in fact, on the ground and the gnome was safe to look around herself and confirm it. Tourmaline snuck a peek from under her arm and leapt from Danica’s back the instant she saw they were on solid ground. The gnome collapsed much like Pug had, but she seemed content to nuzzle the soil like a child returned to her long missed mother.

Pug watched with no small amount of amusement as Lina scooped up handfuls of dirt and brought them to her face, crumbling the clods of earth and detritus between her fingers and watching the soil fall from her hands to the ground. It was as if she didn’t fully believe where she was, though her moans of relief seemed to indicate she was slowly starting to accept reality. Shaking his head at her antics, Pug waved Danica away and the owl took off immediately, moving with an alacrity actually hurt Pug’s feelings. The matriarch took off with a beat of her powerful wings, not even bothering to say goodbye. He supposed it made sense as she did have a nation to run, and they were probably some of the worst passengers she’d ever carried. Still, he waved at her as she flew away though he doubted she saw it in her eagerness to escape.

Leaving Lina to reacquaint herself with solid ground Pug surveyed the area, seeing Hummingbird Hearth for the first time. He’d heard stories, most inhabitants of the Wylde had, but he found every story he’d heard to fall short of the mark. He was standing at the edge of an enormous clearing, a clearing in the shape of a perfect circle as near as Pug could tell. The uniformity of the clearing felt unnatural, the outer edge being ringed by at least two dozen trees, each of them equally distant from each other. They weren’t as large as the massive redwoods he called home though they were quite magnificent in their own right. The smooth trunks towered over the rest of the forest, the first branches splitting off the trunk above the tops of the surrounding trees. The boughs and branches of the trees reached out to the trees beside them in the circle and directly across the clearing, twisting and tangling their branches together in a dense, ceiling-like weave.

The end result of their interwoven growth was the canopy above was not unlike the interior of a dome, the vaulted leafy ceiling giving a sense of openness to the grove. Each of the trees forming the periphery, which in his head he was beginning to refer to as the pillar trees, had masterful carvings in the side of the tree facing into the clearing. The carvings were all of a woman in flowing robes standing with their legs together and their arms lifted high overhead. Her upturned faces had sharp features, a pointed upturned nose perched above full lips with a mischievous curl to them. With eyes a slight bit larger proportionally than most other races gave a cute, almost kitten-like cast to her face. Wild hair was just barely tucked behind her pointed ears, where it flowed into the trunk seamlessly.

The carvings were captivating and lifelike, so much so Pug expected them to shift and move when he took his eyes off of them. Closer inspection revealed their feet were blended into the wood near the base of the tree as well, making it appear as though below the knee her legs sprawled out to become roots. Each pillar tree stood as such, hand in hand, and a feeling of awe crept on Pug. Once he had absorbed as much of the artistry as he could Pug turned to inspect the clearing they encircled.

The main body of the clearing was occupied by a pond so still and clean it seemed as though a giant mirror had been set into the earth. The water was so reflective he could not, in fact, tell what lay beneath its shimmering surface and a deep foreboding filled him at the thought of disturbing the placid waters. The pond terminated in an abrupt and clean edge, another perfect circle, and a dense thicket of flowers sprung up right at the water's edge. Without rhyme or reason the plants on the edge of the pond grew and bloomed into the upper bounds of how large they could grow with no heed given to the season, climate, or habitat they were beholden to. Daylilies, petunias, hibiscus, all of it and more grew side by side in a riotous explosion of oranges, yellows, reds, pinks, and purples. Pug could even see his namesake nestles among them, the sight of the foxgloves causing a warm tingling rush to pour forth from his chest and into his extremities, his skin abuzz.

The soft sound of footsteps on dirt drew his attention to Lina who was stumbling up, still shaky with residual fear. She hardly watched where she stepped, forcing Pug to catch her as she stumbled over a slightly upraised bit of turf. Her gaze never left the pillar trees which she gazed at in unadulterated wonder as Pug pulled her to her feet beside him. They stood side by side and watched as iridescent birds, the namesake of the Hearth, flitted back and forth from flower to flower in a frenzy. The fleeting creatures zipped through the air above the pond with such rapidity they blurred into colorful comets. Each dash and pirouette was faithfully reflected in the mirrored surface of the water below, creating a mesmerizing whirlwind of colors and motion made it hard for the pair to count the hummingbirds. Silently the two of them pointed out especially flamboyant or beautiful birds to each other, gesticulating but hardly daring to make a sound in fear of startling the hummingbirds and breaking the magic of the moment.

Pug was especially captivated by a particular specimen approached on the side opposite Lina, its muddled green and vague blues causing it to periodically vanish as it camouflaged itself with the wooded backdrop. It was only as it paused to feed from a massive hibiscus blossom it became visible, stark against the bold yellow and pink petals. The thrum of its wings, beating too fast to see, was somewhat frightening to Pug. While he knew they were likely so delicate as to do little damage if they connected with him, their blindingly fast fluttering made him nervous nonetheless. He couldn't imagine his own wings moving so fast, he’d be constantly worried they’d wrench themselves free of his back and shoot off into the sky. Pug was unfortunately forced to look away from the object of his fascination as Lina squeezed his hand sharply, her gnomish strength causing his bones to creak.

Pug winced and turned to his friend, prepared to tell her off but found himself brought face to face with another hummingbird. How the creature had gotten so close he did not know, as it was easily within reach if he were simply to reach for it. He realized suddenly he heard no wingbeat, or any sound at all. Even the wind ought to be put off by its flying was absent. He could more clearly hear the hum of the bird to his left than find any sign of this hummingbird's presence. Tourmaline stared, mouth agape as the bird cocked and tilted its head, fixing its dark eyes on each of them in turn. Its feathers were a deep ruby red, a color so uniform it seemed as if the bird was carved from one chunk of gemstone. Seemingly deciding neither he or Lina were food or a threat, the hummingbird took off along the shore of the pond.

Pug tracked its flight avidly, their purpose in coming here all but forgotten. It might have remained that way but the red comet snapped to a stop midair with a muted whump, not unlike the sound of a stack of papers made as it was dropped on a table. The blur of a bird that had moments before been moving faster than Pug could easily follow suddenly came into focus as it slammed into a dead halt before plummeting. To Pug’s confused relief it fell only a span or so before it came to a stop midair, dangling from some construction Pug couldn’t see.

With a wordless cry Lina took off towards the fallen hummingbird, Pug shortly behind. As they came closer the situation clarified itself, for they saw the hummingbird was suspended mid-air by a lattice of remarkably fine filaments. For a moment Pug thought they were some sort of massive spider-web, but a closer inspection revealed none of the sticky glue a spider would use to trap its prey. Instead the bird was held in place as the loosely drooping filaments wrapped around it, particularly its feet and beak. As the heady high had overtaken him due to the beauty of the place fled before the flood of anxiety rising up in him he began to take in details around them he’d previously missed.

The most egregious detail he’d missed were the two wooden posts driven into the ground a good distance apart, the posts holding an array of thin, nearly invisible, threads. Posts were mostly hidden in the massive flower patch, however the area astound them was slightly trampled, blossoms smashed, stems bent and broken. The array of translucent, yet surprisingly durable, filaments were split into two purposes Pug could see. A vertical ‘wall’ of more taut, firmer lines were what had initially caught the hummingbird as it tried to fly through them. Those had knocked it out of the sky where it fell into the second group, a ‘floor’ of slack filaments that served to get twisted up and tangled around the hummingbird as it struggled. And it was still struggling, twitching and fluttering its wings as it kicked its feet, but each attempt to free itself only served to ensnare it ever further.

Unsheathing his knife from where it rested at his hip, Pug circled the net cautiously. Making doubly sure there were no secondary traps or protections he’d get tangled up with himself, Pug lifted into the air with a few tentative wingbeats. It took time but he controlled his ascent and remained on the lookout for any unpleasant surprises as he made his way to the top of the nearest post. Touching down atop it, only after he’d thrice checked it for anything nefarious, Pug crouched and leaned over the edge above the first layer of filaments serving as the top of the ‘wall.’ Gathering the first few cables in his hand, he swiped at them with his knife. They gave way thankfully quickly, the taut threads snapping and giving way with an audible twang.

Satisfied he could break the trap, for there was little doubt in his mind it was a trap, he considered the most efficient way to free the ruby red bird. He could shimmy down the length of the post severing the cables one clump at a time, but sounded time consuming and, more importantly, boring. Rather, he climbed over the far side of the post and hugged the construction, his hands just barely meeting on the other side. There was still enough leeway for him to align his knife over the surface the threads emerged from, so he got his knife into position and lessened the pressure his thighs were maintaining on the post to keep him in place. He began to slide down the post immediately, his inner thighs and front of his torso warming with friction. Aligned and pulled by his weight, the knife sliced through each of the threads with a curious pop, a sound only a cable under tension could make.

Proceeding far faster than he would have had he chosen to climb along the post addressing the threads one by one, Pug was desperately glad whoever had built the trap had sanded it down. The worry he’d take a high velocity splinter into a sensitive area was a pressing one, and though he was too deep in to stop he did pull his face as far from the post as he could. The process was quick though, only snagging when he got to the bundle of threads that made the ‘floor’ of the trap. Since they were left slack the knife had a bit harder of a time cutting through them, though he quickly solved the issue by wrapping them in his free hand and pulling them until there was no slack, then quickly sawing at them with his knife. Once it was completely severed the net holding the hummingbird drooped and carried its prisoner to the ground.

Tourmaline immediately got to work with her own knife, scurrying around the hummingbird as she hewed and sawed at the netting. Pug checked to be sure the friction hadn’t burned through his clothes, patting his more delicate areas nervously to assure himself they hadn’t been worn away, before darting over to join his friend. The subject of their rescue was thankfully calm, its dark eyes making its exact thoughts and feelings a mystery as it watched them set about freeing it. The process only took moments with the both of them working on it and the bird shot free as soon as it could sense freedom. There was little in the way of a thank-you, though Pug thought he saw the bird stop and look back at them once it was a good distance away from the trap. It bobbed up and down in the air, an act Pug chose to believe was akin to a nod of gratitude, before zipping off to join its brethren in the flowers around the pond once again.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Who would set something like this up?” Lina asked with disgust, looking over a bundle of netting as she turned it over in her hands. “Setting up a trap like this in a place so…”

“Sacred?” Pug finished for her. Lina nodded thoughtfully, her somber gaze never drifting from the threads in her grasp.

Pug trotted over to the other post, no longer in urgent need of dismantling though it still posed something of a threat. A sigh escaped his lips as he decided he’d cut this one the boring way, his chafed thighs still sullenly burning as they reminded him of how little they enjoyed his previous escapade. After several minutes of hacking at the cables and cursing under his breath, the nearly invisible threads tangled in the dirt, likely beyond all recovery and use. With only the posts remaining, Pug mulled over how to break down the rest of the trap. He turned around as he heard Lina stomping over, splashing about dirt and mud as she kicked the dirt in frustration. She was clearly even more affected by the sudden souring of their wonder upon seeing the Hearth than he was.

The irate gnome strode right up to the first post and planted her feet. Gripping it tightly she began to rock the post back and forth, the supernatural strength hidden in her small frame easily moving the wooden post. It wook only moments until there was a series of cracking sounds as the post began to break, separating itself from the rest of the body below the earth. The post tumbled to the dirt, collapsing atop the pile of netting left discarded in the dirt. Without pause she walked over to the other post, repeating the process.

“It's not a perfect solution, but at least no more critters will be snared by it.” Lina said, somewhat apologetically.

“I doubt the hummingbirds are going to complain about how it looks.” Pug said, a teasing lilt creeping into his words. “Besides, it'll be reclaimed by the forest soon enough.”

The sharp report of a branch breaking underfoot perforated the relative calm of Hummingbird Hearth, cutting Tourmaline off as she opened her mouth to retort. The namesake hummingbirds all vanished immediately, zipping into the shadows of the forest. Turning, Pug was astounded to see giants striding into the clearing. Mimicking Lina and himself in form, the creatures were many times their own size, towering over them. Enormous beasts, their footsteps resounded through the soil and their voices bordered on the edge of being painful to hear. Even worse, the massive creatures knew they were there, malice burning in their eyes as they glared at Pug and Tourmaline.

“The little monsters went and broke the Merchant’s net. He’s going to blame us for Gregor, mark my words.” The taller and lankier of the two spat. His features were narrow with beady, crowlike eyes glittering above his hook-like nose.

“Don’t worry Thom, I’m sure he’ll forgive us if we bring the scraps back to him with the culprits in hand.” The shorter of the two replied. His face was pig-like and brutish, and hostility all but oozed from him.

Pug reached out and grasped Lina’s shoulder, pulling her to him as he shuffled back from the rapidly approaching giants. Tilting his head close to Lina, Pug spoke in a low voice though he doubted he had to go far. The giants, which he reasoned to be humans, were large enough he doubted they could hear his comparatively small voice easily.

“I’ll distract them, you hide in the underbrush.” He advised Lina, shushing her and continuing as she tried to argue. “There’s no way we can fight these guys in a straight up brawl. We should try to run away and figure something out from a safe distance.”

Lina didn’t look very happy about it, but she nodded in acceptance. Even with her gnomish strength it was beyond her ability to go toe to toe with these creatures, and she knew it. She took off towards the nearest clump of flowers while Pug took to the sky, flying as quickly as he could into the face of the shorter, nastier human. The human, Gregor, reflexively went to swat Pug away, however Pug was too nimble and easily dipped and dodged around his meaty hands. Pug was surprised to find that while the giants were faster than their size would have him believe, they weren’t very dexterous at all and had trouble catching him. Pug wasn’t the fastest flier he knew by any means, yet the humans seemed painfully dull and clumsy in their attempts to swat him from the air.

Pug flew closer to his target, harrying him with little jabs of his spear or slashes of his knife. Soon enough the beast was sweating and red with anger, swearing as he swiped fruitlessly at empty air. Small slices and cuts were peppering Gregor’s face, each weeping miniscule rivulets of blood. Pug was under no illusions he could win this fight, in fact he was sure all he had done so far was annoy the human. However he was confident he’d be able to keep this up for a bit longer, at least long enough for Lina to get away. was, until a sharp cry caught his attention.

Darting away from Gregor and gaining enough altitude he didn’t have to worry about the short human, Pug pivoted to the source of the cry. The taller of the two creatures must have decided helping his friend was fruitless, for he had broken away while Pug was distracted and closed the distance between himself and Lina, snatching the gnome up from the flower bed before she could make good her escape. She was held fast in the human’s grip while its other hand went about withdrawing a cloth sack from its belt, which it struggled to open with one hand. Taking the chance afforded him by the stubborn drawstring on the burlap sack Pug dashed through the air towards the skinny human, Gregor’s cry of warning at his back.

Pug flew the fist holding his friend as the taller human stumbled back to avoid him. Deciding to target the human’s thumb, as it was the only digit exposed enough to damage, Pug began his assault. Swooping in, the fair jabbed his spear forward and into the flesh underneath the tall human’s thumbnail. Thom responded with a howl of pain, as he expected, but his grip on Lina didn’t loosen. With a frustrated curse Pug left his spear where it was embedded, flitting up a little bit above it. Before Thom could react Pug stopped beating his wings, dropping his entire body weight onto the haft of the spear whose head was still embedded under Thom’s fingernail.

With a wrenching tear and a pop the spear twisted free, gouging a vicious tear in the vulnerable meat and releasing a gout of blood. Thom’s hand snapped open as the human shook out its wrist, as though he could fling free the pain, before bringing the savaged thumb to his mouth where he sucked on the wound. Lina was dropped onto the ground, landing on her rear with a thump and a dazed look on her face. Pug continued his plummet to the ground, landing next to her and giving Lina a rough slap on the back to get her moving before again.He made one pit stop as he collected his bloody spear from the mud before lifting off again.

With both giants now focused on him, Pug resumed his plan of being a general nuisance. Alternating between the two he continued his pattern of leaving small cuts and prodding with his spear. Thom only defended himself one arm, still sullenly sucking on his wounded thumb like an infant. Gregor had both hands free, however his substantial lack of height made it a bit easier for Pug to evade him. He managed to keep them distracted for a few minutes, watching Lina disappear into the flowers from the corner of his eye. He was about to break away and hide himself when his luck finally ran out.

Peeling off from an aborted lunge with his spear, Pug didn’t sense Thom lashing out from his right. Suddenly struck by what felt like an avalanche, Pug was batted straight into the ground. The fairy hit with enough velocity to plow a furrow into the soft earth, and bounced a fair few times before coming to a rest, each impact sending a series of cracks resounding through his body. When he finally came to a rest Pug was a ball of pain, hardly able to open his eyes. He wasn’t sure what was broken, but he was pretty sure he had more broken bits than not .

Letting out a weak moan, he tried and failed to move as his body refused to respond. The barest of twitches sent hot agony through him, each breath shallow and weak as anything deeper than a gasp had him coughing wetly into the mud. At the periphery of his awareness he perceived rapid, heavy footfalls approaching him before he was roughly lifted into the air. The movement jostled his wounds and sent a cascade of rending pain through him. Pug protested weakly in the form of further moaning, but his captor either didn’t understand, didn’t care, or both. Pug felt the third option was the most likely.

The rough hands held him aloft by pinching his wings together, so Pug’s whole weight was on his wings. This would also have been an extremely uncomfortable experience had the whole of Pug’s rib cage not been splinters in his chest. Between fits of pain and faint spells where he threatened to lose consciousness, Pug could hear the human was holding him speak.

“Give it up… your friend…” Gregor threatened vaguely. Pug wasn’t sure exactly what the human was trying to say. Only after what felt like an eternity of concentration Pug realized the human was using him to get Lina to turn herself in. Pug hoped the little gnome didn’t fall for it. He was relatively certain he wasn’t going to survive the day, even if the humans didn’t finish him off. His insides didn’t feel quite right, and he coughed up a concerning amount of blood even as he took a mental inventory of his condition.

Through half closed eyes Pug saw as Lina emerged from a cluster of flowers. He cursed inwardly as Thom darted forward and grabbed his friend, not hesitating to shove her into the same burlap sack he had been struggling with before. Thom stored Lina somewhere outside of Pug’s field of view before coming back and picking up the snare Pug had destroyed. He must have passed out at that point, as the next thing he remembered he was being shaken roughly by his wings. Pug wanted to cry out, but he was even weaker than before and could barely force his breath past his lips.

“Damn Thom, we wanted to capture this one.” Gregor laughed. “You damn near killed it in one strike!”

“The little pest mutilated my thumb!” Thom cried indignantly. It sounded like he had something in his mouth, and Pug figured he was still nursing his wounded thumb.

“Honestly I’m glad you did it. The little bastard cut up my face real good.” Gregor shook Pug out of frustration, sending fresh waves of pain skittering through his body. “We’ve caught plenty of fairies for the Merchant before anyways. He won’t miss this one. Especially not with wings like these!”

“Never seen a fairy with wings like . Aren’t they usually more colorful?”

“Maybe it's the runt of the litter or something. Disgusting if you ask me, they look dirty.”

“Should we stick around and try to catch another hummingbird?”

“No…”

The words drifted out again. They were replaced by a deep droning noise. Pug couldn’t see the source of the noise, but he felt its reverberations in his chest and the back of his teeth. A cloying sickly warmth pressed against his face, and he was finding it hard to breathe. Worse, his limbs felt twisted and cramped, pressed into his chest and he couldn’t extend them. A terrible weariness stole over him then, a weariness overtook his pains and drowned them, numbed his extremities and pressed in tightly against his eyes. The weariness might have overtaken him then but a voice, deep and full of hate, reverberated through the darkness.

“Little fairy, are you awake? I want you to be awake for this, as I repay you for the hassle you gave me.”

Pug cracked an eye, dried blood near sealing it shut. Still he was able to see Gregor looming over him, leering at the fairy he still had pinned in his grasp. The pudgy human smiled a warped, malicious grin. He licked his lips, not out of any dryness but out of some twisted anticipation, and spoke.

“For all the hassle you caused little fairy, I’m going to make you pretty again.”

Pug regarded the human with confusion. Either the human wasn’t making any sense, or Pug had finally lost his faculties to the pain. It was only as the human pressed a finger at his back and began to pull with the hand grasping his wings Pug understood. The wounded fairy let out a small cry of protest, kicking his legs and flailing his arms weakly but he was in no condition to fight back. With a sickening rending noise and a sensation like having the skin flayed from his bones Pug felt something come free. Something shouldn’t ever be apart from him. It felt like he’d been gutted, a cold emptiness filling his torso.

Pug hardly registered it when he struck the ground. Neither did he perceive the thudding footfalls of the giant’s departure. All Pug could feel were the two rents in his back felt for all the world like cold flames eating away at him. All of his broken bones and mangled organs were nothing compared to pain, loss. Strength poured out of him through the wound, and a deep lethargy began to settle. Pug resigned himself to this fate, dying in the dirt of Hummingbird Hearth. He could not amass the strength to so much as twitch. He would not be walking, or even crawling, away from this.

Some unknown time later consciousness crawled upon him once again, bringing with it fresh reminders of his twisted and broken form. Something was tugging at his shirt, pulling at the collar like a cat snagging its kitten by the nape of the neck. Pug’s left eye, frozen open with mud and blood and irritated with dryness, saw ruby feathers shifting back and forth in its limited field of view. The ruby hummingbird had returned, though Pug didn’t know what the silly little creature hoped to accomplish. It painstakingly dragged him through mud and grass, each jostle certainly aiding Pug’s broken bones in their quest to pierce his every organ.

An excruciating eternity later Pug’s open eye perceived the mirrored surface of the pond. In it he could see his own reflection, smeared with dirt and blood and swelling with tremendous bruises. One arm was twisted unrecognizably, and though the other looked intact it drooped lazily and would not move no matter how he focused. Everything below his breast was out of view, but based on how it felt it was unlikely to be in better shape. Pug wondered why the bird brought him here just as it dropped him, plunging his broken body into the chill waters of the pond. Pug would have flailed or panicked if he could have, but instead the waters of the pond subsumed him quietly. It poured through lips too weak and dry to stop it, and invaded his nostrils. A distant part of him was aware he was drowning.

Is the silly bird mercy killing me? Pug thought incredulously.

It was only a while later Pug realized he probably should have drowned. He wasn’t sure how long he had been in the pond, but he had certainly been breathing straight pond water for a while now. In fact, the pain had subsided somewhat. He wasn’t going to go singing and dancing, but he was no longer crippled by pain. He could curl his toes and wiggle his fingers. Both eyes blinked, shaking off the filth loosened by the water. He was able to crane his head about and look down at himself, and to his disbelief he was almost completely restored. Pug took an experimental deep breath and found not only could he do so without slicing his lungs to ribbons against his ribs, but the water flowed in without pain or discomfort. Pug wondered if perhaps he had died, when suddenly a narrow beak plunged into the pond and speared his top.

Once the owner of the beak was confident he was securely grasped it began to plunge up and down, shaking Pug about as though he were a piece of laundry with a particularly stubborn stain or blemish. In all actuality, Pug saw quite a bit of blood and filth come free of his clothes as he was shaken about, though did little to garner his acceptance of the matter. With a sudden jerk he was wrenched free of the pond and slammed onto his back in the dirt. Backlit by the open sky above the glade and the sun, the ruby hummingbird twisted its head to regard him with its beady black eye. The creature must have been satisfied by whatever it saw, for it quickly took flight and left his field of view.

Pug still felt two lines of pain on his back, but beyond it seemed the mystical waters of Hummingbird Hearth had cured him of most of his wounds. Pug was still far too weak to move however, and so he laid for a time considering his situation. Lina was gone, taken by humans. He thought it likely this was the same fate Jet had suffered. He wanted desperately to pursue his friend and her kidnappers, but he could hardly lift his hand at the moment. There was also the issue of his wings. Without them he would be forced to walk after the giants, a losing proposition if he had ever heard one. Pug began to despair of saving his friends when he heard the thumping footsteps of a giant approaching. Using all of his strength he tilted his head forward to look at the approaching creature. It would either be his salvation or his doom, and he was in no condition to change his fate.