no new friends, but some old fiends! [numair, day 1, (1)]

Numair forces himself to stop trembling with a steadying breath as his nails dig deeply into the bark of a nearby tree; he swears it starts singing when he does, but- "Shhhit!"

Its hot breath was purple in his vision as it huffed what tasted like small mammals, even smaller invertebrates, some sort of northern lake fish, and just straight up bones. And not the fun kind. He hoped no one ever asked him how he knew all that as his stomach grumbled at the thought; must be the Capitol's fucking serum. And not 'fucking' the adjective, or even 'fucking' the verb- just, y'know, the 'fucking' expletive.

It was a wonder he could care about grammar at all when there was a beauty of a beast forcing him to breathe in its carbon mixed with digestive juices and bird? Panther-thing? Panthera-bone-bird sweat?

"Alright." Another heavy breath that forced his eyes shut, smelling just as terrible as the last; Numair smiles as he attempts to back away slowly.

"Okay. OoooOOooo-kaaaaay. Good. Real good, I'm just going to, step, gently, this way?" It chirped... and also roared? Is that the definition of 'gargle'?

"Yeah! Okay!"

He tried his hardest not to step on anything too noisy as he backpedaled, but anyone who has ever walked through a regular forest with regular animal trails knows that it can be quite the task even to manage what you know like the back of your hand.

And this?

Numair had dislocated his collarbone when he was eight years old, broken every toe on his right foot when he was twelve, cracked his heels when he was fourteen, and then ran away from home with the love of his life when he was sixteen, only to come home so broken he could barely stand himself when he was eighteen.

It all sounded like some story he was making up, but mostly he was trying his hardest to distract himself from what seemed like an incredibly deadly creature following him step for step until he was backed down into a crevice that smelled like Kyland—and laughed like him, too.

"Please, no. Please. Stop."

But the beast has feathers that smell like a strawberry sunrise—"Oh."—and maybe the gargle had been more of a purr. "Oh. Thank you."