Bug on the Breeze

Zephyr stuck his tongue out as he worked with the sticks and reeds Pharynx provided, weaving them into what Pharynx described as a ‘fish trap basket’. He found the process surprisingly easy and even a bit soothing, the basics of it similar to the braids he learned in mane therapy training.

Once it was clear Pharynx wouldn’t need to supervise him as closely for this skill, he left to do a quick scout of the perimeter to see if he could find any sign of the kelpie.

Zephyr finished the basket and looked it over. It had a circular opening on one end and gradually got smaller, the tapered end secured by a small section of rope. Just inside the opening, a series of sticks were placed at an angle. According to Pharynx, when placed in a river or some body of water, this would allow fish to swim in but not back out.

Even if he wouldn’t eat fish himself, it was an easy enough skill to make some quick bits. This particular trap in his hooves probably wasn’t big enough to be actually practical, but he was proud of finishing a product all by himself. And now that he knew the process, it shouldn’t be too hard to make it again, but bigger.

So far, Zephyr had a good idea on how to use a firestarter and what kind of kindling to look for to build a good fire with. He also knew a few basic knots and, now, how to weave together a fish trap basket. With a little creativity, he could probably make other kinds of baskets too!

Pharynx returned, pausing to drink some more water before walking over to Zephyr and looking over the basket. “Huh, well look at that. Looks like you might actually have some useful skills after all.”

“Well duh, even a crooked clock is right once a day right?”

Pharynx inhaled deeply, his lips tightly pressed together as he was once again reminded just how dumb the pegasus really, truly was. “Ahem…The expression is ‘a broken clock is right twice a day’.”

Zephyr rubbed his chin, squinting at Pharynx. “Are you sure? I think my version sounds better. Anyways, were you able to find any sign of the kelpie?”

Pharynx grounded himself with another breath before answering. “Not really, but I didn’t see any sign of it heading back towards the hive, so my guess is that it’s going home towards the heart of their territory.”

Zephyr nodded. “Where exactly is that anyways?”

“It’s at the other end of our lands and looks like a giant vortex of sand. We should be able to reach it by the end of tomorrow as long as we can keep the same pace.”

Zephyr gulped and looked at his wings. He had just regained feeling of the limbs a little while ago and the sound of more flying made them ache. “Right… More flying…”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“What? Oh, no, no no no. As long as we don’t have to race another thunderstorm I should be fine. Probably.”

Pharynx stared at him for a moment before going over to the roll of survival tools Thorax had packed and reached towards a small tin he hadn’t yet shown Zephyr. “Alright, next lesson. See this tin? This is a salve changelings made for when we had to hold other forms for extended periods of time.”

Zephyr raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

Pharynx opened it, letting out a strong minty smell. “When we hold other forms, our bodies tend to wear out faster, especially if we are flying. This will help numb and relax the muscles so you can keep going a little more. Turn around, I’ll help put it on this time.”

Zephyr looked between Pharynx and the tin a couple times before hesitantly turning his back to the changeling. He jumped at the sensation of tingly magic on his back, followed by an intense cooling sensation at the base of his wings. Pharynx spread it up his wings a little bit before deciding it was enough and popping the cap back on the tin. “We’ll leave in an hour or so. That should be plenty of time for it to soak in.”

Zephyr mumbled a quiet ‘uh huh’, marveling in the wonders of the salve with a cross eyed gaze and a bit of drool gathering in the corner of his mouth.

Pharynx bit his lip to stifle his laughter at the ridiculous expression. He figured Zephyr had earned some mercy - from his genuine attempts to learn what Pharynx was teaching him earlier as well as general lack of complaint for the journey so far. That, and, Pharynx was still reeling from the ‘crooked clock’ comment and hadn’t found any correction that the Pegasus would accept.

Pharynx took the basket Zephyr made and carefully deconstructed it so he could use the material for other demonstrations. He then set about cleaning up the rest of what was still out, packing the tin and firestarter back in their respective slots of the canvas roll and the natural materials into his backpack.

Zephyr stirred after a while, wiping his face before shaking his head a bit. “Brr. Man, that salve really is something. You use it a lot?”

Pharynx shook his head. “Nah. I mostly stayed around the hive, didn’t have a need to transform or hold another form for that long. The collectors raved about it though, and I guess Thorax hoped it would work as well for you, which it seems to have.”

Zephyr nodded. “Like a charm! Of course, I know it’ll only be temporary and whenever we get back to the hive don’t expect me to leave that room for at least 3 days, buuut… I appreciate it. Thanks for showing me and putting it on.”

“Sure. I just didn’t feel like having to drag you around yet. Make it through tomorrow though and I just might feel bad enough for you and your weak pony body.”

“Hey!” Zephyr pouted, “I’m just not used to flying this much at one time. The flow of the breeze rarely requires this much exercise.”

Pharynx snickered. “Sure, okay.”

~~

Hours later, they were flying again, and Pharynx tried to not show his frustration that he hadn’t seen a definitive sign of the kelpie again. He still felt good about his assessment that it would be heading home, and they were at least going in that direction as well, but he would feel better if he knew for certain they were actually closing in on it.

As dusk approached, he began to wonder if they shouldn’t turn around, prepare barriers at the edge of the forest and wait to confront the kelpie when it inevitably came back again. That was until they passed a large patch of cacti and he finally saw traces of what he was looking for.

He flew close to the ground, hovering above it and pointing out a trail of displaced sand that curved like a snake. “Look! These are the ‘waves’ the kelpies leave behind, see how the sand dips in the middle, almost like someone was drawing with a stick?”

Zephyr squinted at the ground, the setting sun casting long shadows from the small crests of sand. “Yeah, I see it.”

Pharynx laughed with a mixture of relief and a new source of frustration. “The hardest part about tracking these things is that it’s almost impossible to tell how long it’s been since it came through here. Judging by the length of this trail though, we are probably still about half a day behind it if it keeps on its current track.”

Zephyr’s eyes followed where Pharynx gestured, the lines stretching further than he could see in the current light. “Are we going to stop soon or did you want to try and catch up?”

Pharynx looked back at him. “Do you want to keep flying?”

“Ehh…Not really no, if I’m being honest.”

“Then we’ll stop. Tomorrow will be a big push so we should get all the rest we can tonight.”

Zephyr breathed a sigh of relief, trying not to think about how soon that relief would go away when he had to get up again in the morning. That did raise a question though. “Say…Will it be better or worse if we don’t catch up before it gets back home?”

Pharynx shrugged and ascended towards the mountain range. “Depends.”

Zephyr followed him up towards a ledge and landed unsteadily next to the changeling as he looked for another secret entrance. “On what?”

“On if there are still others.”

Zephyr gulped. “O-oh. But you said that they probably moved on right?”

Pharynx dissolved the wall and walked into the cave. “Probably. We won’t know until we get there though.”

Zephyr wasn’t sure if the shaking in his legs was from exhaustion of travel or fear of coming across a whole herd of sand kelpies within the next couple days. He looked over the desert, just barely able to make out the vortex they were heading for.

As much as he didn’t like the idea of facing one kelpie, he couldn’t help but hope the one they were following was all that was left. He shook his head and followed after Pharynx.

~~

Pharynx watched in amusement as Zephyr messed with the firestarter, striking the scrapper against the rod over and over and showering the kindling with sparks.

“Remember to introduce oxygen.”

Zephyr paused, looking at Pharynx with confusion. The changeling sighed. “You have to breathe on it, slightly. It’ll help catch fire.”

“Ohhh, right, right. Cause breathing makes oxygen. Got it.”

Zephyr striked the rod again and blew a breath at the same time, the sparks finally catching as a piece of kindling started to glow. “Oh! Oh look! It’s doing it! I MADE FIRE!!!”

Pharynx reached out to steady Zephyr so he didn’t knock over the bundle and destroy the progress made. He leaned down and blew on the fledgling flame, encouraging it into a small fire.

Zephyr beamed with pride and tucked the firestarter kit back into his roll. “Well that’s one more skill down pretty well if I do say so myself. What do you think?”

“You got it going, which is good. Just keep practicing and it’ll become easier.”

Zephyr nodded and rolled out his sleeping bag before stretching out on it, watching the flickering flames. “Hey, Pharynx?”

Pharynx glanced over as he unrolled his bed roll. “Yeah?”

“When you fight the kelpie, are you going to transform into one of them? Ya know, to make it a fair fight?”

Pharynx snorted. “Not likely. It takes a lot of magic and energy to hold something that big and complex. There are a couple smaller yet tough forms I know that might do well against it. We’ll see what happens.”

Zephyr looked past the small fire pit at Pharynx, his voice small and worried. “What if it beats you?”

Pharynx blinked, momentarily frozen by the pegasus’s concern and fear. “Well, in the unlikely event that something happens to me…I guess you fly like hell and get back to the hive. Get Thorax and however many changelings you can and avenge me.”

Zephyr shifted around. “I guess I could do that. You… aren't scared at all?”

Pharynx shrugged. “Not really? I don’t really worry about that sort of thing. I am defending my home and if I die, I am honored to die in battle.”

“I would rather you didn’t, just to be clear.”

Pharynx chuckled. “So would I. What’s got you so worried? You really think I’m gonna go down easy?”

Zephyr blushed and looked away. “I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t want the first being to accept me for who I am to die in front of me?”

“I won’t. I still have more training to give you, I’m not gonna let you loose until I am mostly certain you won’t die within a week of leaving civilization.”

Zephyr laughed. “Alright, I’ll hold you to that. It’s only because of you that I’ve survived two days so far.”

“I know.”

Zephyr looked over again and stuck his tongue out before yawning and stretching out. “Well, here’s to day three tomorrow.”

Pharynx shook his head with a smile. “Yeah, day three. See you in the morning, Zephyr.”