himself rushing
through a valley of castles—and soon to a valley of Mocranian huts.
Molar hadn’t any idea of his friends’ backgrounds; whether they
were rich or poor was beyond his knowledge. Whether or not luck
decided to be on his side seemed a troublesome thought.
Cough cough , called a familiar voice. Mesd? Such a thought brought his feet to an immediate halt.
Upon stopping did he turn his head up and down and all around until
he took sight of his muted friend.
“Mesd!” he called out, coming break-to-break
with his friend.
With a weak cough did Mesd wave to Molar.
“Come quick!” Molar hastily demanded. “I’m
going to start flying today!”
Without any words did Mesd express a shiver
running down his spine. Whether or not such an action was performed
for the sake of fear was beyond Molar’s knowledge. Rest assured,
however, Mesd pointed one of his lion-like paws toward a direction
unbeknown to Molar.
“Are you pointing toward Caeo and Toakld so I
can meet them? Because—that’s just what I was going to do. Let’s
go!”
With Mesd in the lead, the two griffins’ paws
dragged through the ground. “Let’s see if we can find Toakld,”
Molar commanded.
Still in the lead, Mesd gave a quick nod in
response. Both of the two boys ran almost twice as fast as
frightened cats. Had they actually known how to fly, it would have
taken them half the time to reach Toakld’s home than on foot. Such
was the burden of Molar’s thoughts.
--
It had taken awhile, but Molar and Mesd soon
came to a point where their paws were far too weak to carry on
without a break. Soon did the two griffins find their running pace
come to a dramatic slowdown. How long have we been running? wondered Molar. And just how far is Toakld’s home from
here?
Without any warning did a pool of malid catch
Molar’s eye. Without hesitation did Molar tiredly asked his friend,
“Do you want to take a break? Because I could sure use
it!”
Looking over at Molar, Mesd allowed a pause
of silence to slip between him and his friends just before nodding
his approval. After which did he lose whatever strength he had left
in his legs—crashing to the ground as a result.
At the sight of such a pleasant and necessary
reaction, Molar allowed his feet’s acceleration to slow down until
he was left with nothing but absolute stillness.
During this time of rest did the two young
griffins heal, taking a few sips from the malid. Such was the time
in which their bones quickly healed from the much-needed zest the
malid gave them. Once ready to restart their paws in yet another
race to Toakld’s home, Molar and Mesd lurched toward their
destination with as much precision and speed as possible.
Had Molar picked somebody—anybody—over Mesd,
he could have had a nice conversation during this run. But because
of his foolish decision to choose Mesd in the midst of millions of
other Mocranians, the only person he could have had a conversation
with was with himself.
Whoa! Without any warning did Mesd
stop dead in his tracks—all the while in the midst of an army of
Mocranian huts. Fighting against every urge to trample over his
silent friend, Molar just barely stopped on a dime right behind his
friend—nearly tipping Mesd off his feet at the same time.
A smile on his face and a pointing gesture in
his paw, Mesd located Toakld’s home.
“You found it!” exclaimed Molar. Without
another single word did the young griffin march up to the small
home. After this it’ll just be Caeo we have to look for; then
it’s back to the cliff!
Raising himself on his hind legs, Molar
popped his head through one of the hut’s windows and called out
into the small home, “Toakld! Toakld—are you there? Toakld?” Much
to the young griffin’s dismay, the house was emptied of all
life.
Denying denial itself, Molar pulled his head
from the window—turning his gaze on Mesd all the while—and asked,
“Are you sure this is where Toakld lives?”
Slightly afraid,
through a valley of castles—and soon to a valley of Mocranian huts.
Molar hadn’t any idea of his friends’ backgrounds; whether they
were rich or poor was beyond his knowledge. Whether or not luck
decided to be on his side seemed a troublesome thought.
Cough cough , called a familiar voice. Mesd? Such a thought brought his feet to an immediate halt.
Upon stopping did he turn his head up and down and all around until
he took sight of his muted friend.
“Mesd!” he called out, coming break-to-break
with his friend.
With a weak cough did Mesd wave to Molar.
“Come quick!” Molar hastily demanded. “I’m
going to start flying today!”
Without any words did Mesd express a shiver
running down his spine. Whether or not such an action was performed
for the sake of fear was beyond Molar’s knowledge. Rest assured,
however, Mesd pointed one of his lion-like paws toward a direction
unbeknown to Molar.
“Are you pointing toward Caeo and Toakld so I
can meet them? Because—that’s just what I was going to do. Let’s
go!”
With Mesd in the lead, the two griffins’ paws
dragged through the ground. “Let’s see if we can find Toakld,”
Molar commanded.
Still in the lead, Mesd gave a quick nod in
response. Both of the two boys ran almost twice as fast as
frightened cats. Had they actually known how to fly, it would have
taken them half the time to reach Toakld’s home than on foot. Such
was the burden of Molar’s thoughts.
--
It had taken awhile, but Molar and Mesd soon
came to a point where their paws were far too weak to carry on
without a break. Soon did the two griffins find their running pace
come to a dramatic slowdown. How long have we been running? wondered Molar. And just how far is Toakld’s home from
here?
Without any warning did a pool of malid catch
Molar’s eye. Without hesitation did Molar tiredly asked his friend,
“Do you want to take a break? Because I could sure use
it!”
Looking over at Molar, Mesd allowed a pause
of silence to slip between him and his friends just before nodding
his approval. After which did he lose whatever strength he had left
in his legs—crashing to the ground as a result.
At the sight of such a pleasant and necessary
reaction, Molar allowed his feet’s acceleration to slow down until
he was left with nothing but absolute stillness.
During this time of rest did the two young
griffins heal, taking a few sips from the malid. Such was the time
in which their bones quickly healed from the much-needed zest the
malid gave them. Once ready to restart their paws in yet another
race to Toakld’s home, Molar and Mesd lurched toward their
destination with as much precision and speed as possible.
Had Molar picked somebody—anybody—over Mesd,
he could have had a nice conversation during this run. But because
of his foolish decision to choose Mesd in the midst of millions of
other Mocranians, the only person he could have had a conversation
with was with himself.
Whoa! Without any warning did Mesd
stop dead in his tracks—all the while in the midst of an army of
Mocranian huts. Fighting against every urge to trample over his
silent friend, Molar just barely stopped on a dime right behind his
friend—nearly tipping Mesd off his feet at the same time.
A smile on his face and a pointing gesture in
his paw, Mesd located Toakld’s home.
“You found it!” exclaimed Molar. Without
another single word did the young griffin march up to the small
home. After this it’ll just be Caeo we have to look for; then
it’s back to the cliff!
Raising himself on his hind legs, Molar
popped his head through one of the hut’s windows and called out
into the small home, “Toakld! Toakld—are you there? Toakld?” Much
to the young griffin’s dismay, the house was emptied of all
life.
Denying denial itself, Molar pulled his head
from the window—turning his gaze on Mesd all the while—and asked,
“Are you sure this is where Toakld lives?”
Slightly afraid,
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