My headache has receded a bit. I look around, things are dark, the lights are still off. I shift around in my cage a little in a useless attempt to get comfortable. I let out a cry. There seems to be something I squished in my efforts. Turning to look back I see that I have wings. I try to move them but it seems the bars of my prison are too restrictive. I didn’t see these on the thing that entered. Is that why I’m in this cage? Because I’m different? No, that would be ridiculous
The light turns on again.
“Ah, hello again, I heard you in here as I passed by and remembered that I needed to check up on you.”
A large, red-tinged bird came around the corner. Lion? No, it had feathers. Yet it had a beak. It confused me just as much as I confused myself.
“So how have the ponies been treating you?”
Giving him a sideways glance, I realize he means the guard that came in the other day. As he goes over me he reaches the source of my headache.
“Cher dieu, which guard did this to you?”
I give him another blank stare, I don’t remember. I’ve only seen one guard, and with his attitude toward me, it could have been him. Seeing as he asked me who, that must mean there is more than one guard assigned to me. As he tends to the wound he hits a tender spot. I cringe, my headache is flaring back up.
“Do you not remember?”
I shake my head.
“Why aren’t you speaking, do you remember me?”
Again, I shake my head. His voice become a bit frantic.
“What I am?”
Another shake.
“Poulain d'un, I’m going to strangle the pony who did this. But before I go mutilate the one who did this let me fix you up.”
He seems nice. I sit still and allow him to continue his work. I don’t have a choice, but I stay rigid anyway. He seems very skilled in what he’s doing. A few minutes later he pulls out a syringe. I tense up.
“Relax cher, this will ease the headache you no doubt have.”
The needle pricks me right behind my left ear.
“You can call me essoufflé.” He laughs. “I’m kidding, my name is Côte, I’m a griffon, we’re allies.”
He gets up and begins to leave my prison. Before turning the corner he looks at me and speaks again.
“I’m going to go have more than a word with the abâtardi that did this to you.”
With that he leaves. A few moments later the lights are off again. I think the medicine is starting to affect me. I’m feeling a little sleepy. As I drift off I hear yelling in the hallway. I can’t understand a lot of it, but I can decipher some of it. I hear Côte yelling at something, a guard most likely.
“Imbeciles......must have...brain damage..................the sun.....she has amnesia..........executed us........you’ve done that...................................”
Caged without Consent
There’s light, shining through my eyelids, forcing me awake. I open my eyes, unbearable at first, but they slowly adjust, bringing on a headache.The first thing I notice is that I’m in a cage, one far too small for someone my size, which is odd as I don’t feel cramped nor am I comfortable. I’ve been in this cage a long time. Looking up, the second thing I notice is I’ve got a long, white cylindrical object protruding out of my head, I’m not sure what that is for. A defensive weapon maybe?
There’s a sound some ways away, clop-clop, clop-clop. I look up, it seems I’m at the end of some stone corridor. The clopping draws closer, I feel it is about to turn the corner. It must be the thing that turned on the lights which drew me from my sleep. The first thing I see is a blue snout poking out of a dark helmet large green eyes locking onto mine. Another thing I notice is that it has a blue object protruding from its head similar to mine, yet it seems shorter and is surrounded in a green glow. The next second it’s rounded the corner, the rest of it is covered in more armor and there’s two things floating next to him covered in the same translucent green glow. It stops in front of me. We look into each others eyes, me studying him, him, judging me. And then it speaks.
“We’re waiting you know, for your will to break, and it will, no matter how long it takes.”
I look at him with a questioning glance, and his glare hardens. We sit like this for a while. He makes what seems like an exasperated sigh, and places the two objects he had hovering behind him down. One is a small loaf of bread, while the other, a bowl of water. He turns around and begins clop-clopping away. Pausing and looking back, he opens his mouth again.
“At least you’re not the one that has to tell his children that they’ll starve.”
He leaves me with those words making me wonder what they meant. In the mean time I return my attention back towards the food he left me on the floor. If his children are to starve, then why am I to eat? That’s when a red color at the edge of my vision draws my focus. It’s a dark red pool just off to the side. Something drips into it, I look up hoping to find the source, yet fail to see anything. Looking back down in time to catch another drip, I realize it’s coming from my head. That must be the source of my headache. With the inability to do anything about it I look back towards the food and begin to eat it. The bread is stale and the water tastes funny, nothing I shouldn’t have expected.
The blue thing that gave me food must’ve turned out the light, as I am plunged into darkness. Taking this as a sign to return to the sweet embrace of sleep, I comply.
