It was a dark night, early in the winter season. The sun had set long before the table had been filled with fruits and platters of holiday meats — most notably the large gold-rimmed oval lined with the boney shanks of a lamb slain for the holidays. Sometimes the slaughter bothered Nell, but as the family gathered around the table to feast, he could sense the nourishment their lives would be filled with. Their table lacked one thing: a bowl of sweetened berries, stewed into a sauce and thickened on a bed of snow. Nell rose from the table. He glanced at the children and other members who were about…

Nell turned back to look at Ach. He was no where in sight. His mind felt near. Nell searched for him. “Acheron?” He called out. There was no reply. “Ach!” Nell yelled. He was gone. “Hello? Acheron Alandrial!” He channeled the thoughts this is not funny in hopes Ach would hear him, but there was nothing there. More than Ach being gone an emptiness crept over Nell. “Acheron!” Something stirred. It’s mind felt like sludge. It was fixated on Nell. Hunting Nell. Nell fluttered his wings and looked for what wanted him, but he couldn’t find it anywhere. Just before he gave up the round collapsed. Something had wrapped itself…

Dusk came with a waxing crescent, twinkling stars, and the hoots of animals from all around. Nell walked beside his son, Oisin, as they ensured the livestock (monsters) were situated for the night. The two redheads with wings, Oisin with his bright red-orange hair, and Nell with his dusty ginger hair, were investigating a broken chain in an enclosure for an animal that seemed like a kangaroo crossed with a jackrabbit. Nell gleaned a passing mind, something intelligent and aves (bird) like. “Something is coming,” Nell warned Oisin. “I know,” Oisin replied. “It likes you.” “You can’t know that,” Nell insisted, though he could sense the same wave of intrigue.…

If you listen closely you can hear the sounds of every season. Winter brings the eerie cracking of branches that have been overcome by frost. Spring brings birds chirping as new life emerges. Summer is laughter. Fall, most of all, is the sound of leaves beneath your feet. Konrad and Nell descended into a sweeping valley. With each step, more leaves crunched beneath them. The world was turning toward fall. As they strode Nell noticed a chirping sound. It sounded like some sort of beetle except the chirps were new and distinct to Nell’s ears. He followed the sound over to a mound of dirt and charred wood. Nell lifted…

A secret is best kept, only kept, if no one knows about it. It stood to reason that bringing Corban to the secret arctic lab would forever demote it to a simple known arctic lab, but Corban was good with secrets. Today, they were formulating the idea for a hybrid beast. What he wanted was a vicious penguin, but cuddly too. As they walked through the lab they passed by the empty nest of a failed creation: Henry. He was supposed to be cuddly, warm, loving. Instead, he was rough and excitable. He had teeth too sharp to cuddle. They had found an oasis for him — a jungle that…

They arrived at the corner of Glise and Alden. A big brown sign framed the shop that’s corner was cut off to make a more artistic angle with a view of the north, west, and south. Across the top was a large guitar with neon quarter notes hung like they were dancing above the strings. “Shall we?” Nell said. Niels nodded and pulled open the large door. From inside, a must radiated. Niels coughed, while Nell swallowed the pungent fumes of old wood and dust and, somewhere beneath a firm chaise, a dead mouse left by the brilliant orange cat now perched on the counter, licking his paws. “We’re not…

There was nothing but the endless sheer face of a mountain. Nell clung to ancient crusted vines and placed his foot in ledges to secure himself. Though he had wings, he loved the climb. Ahead of him, his love crawled up the face if the cliff, winged, faster with the aid of his wings. Nell took his time, his mind following each bug and animal as he approached them. At last, his hand slipped into a crevice where a centipede lived. It scurried onto Nell’s hand, up his arm to his shoulder. “Hello there,” Nell greeted. He ran his hand down the ribbons of grey, black, and lime. Where he…

It was a bright and sunny day. The sky stretched endlessly as Nell tucked his body into a ball. He rolled through a barrage of paintballs, the splattered ink catching him as it ricocheted off a wall. Nell turned, gun in arm. He searched for his target: Rhyss, over six feet tall, hard to miss. He was gone. Nell turned again, just in time to see Rhyss at his seven as he skirted behind a barrel. Mmm. Nell stalked him. He came to the barrel and stood: paintballs loaded, gun ready, finger on the trigger. Nell’s spine arched as paintballs splattered against his own back. He tried to get away…