Alec hums softly to himself as he walks across the
open fields under the moonlight. He is returning home much later
than he should be, much later than he had planned to, but in the
impetuousness of his seventeen years he had thrown rational judgment
into the wind. He had attended the spring dance in town this evening
and had spent most of it with an intriguing young lady whom he
had met there. Afterwards, he was supposed to return straight
home but decided that her offer to take a stroll through the orchards
outside of town was much more inviting. Finally, much later, he
had walked her home and set off across the fields to reach his
family's farm.
The farm is a good distance from town, especially
if taking the roads. Since he hadn't been able to use the horse
cart tonight, he is left to cover the distance on foot. Taking
the fields would lead him far from the roads for most of the journey,
but would allow him to get home much quicker. Considering that
he is already very late, he decides to opt for the fields, even
if they might not be as safe.
He is about halfway home and still feeling rather
elated from the events of the evening when a faint noise from
behind him jerks his wandering mind to attention. Startled he
stops and slowly turns around, scanning the rolling countryside
for any movement. Looking around for a few moments, he sees nothing
and resumes his walk home, quickening his pace slightly. Trying
to keep his mind from jumping to wild conclusions, he tries recalling
his walk in the orchard. This eases his mind somewhat, but his
senses are still jumpy and his ears strain to hear any sound out
of the stillness.
He goes about thirty paces and has decided that the
phantom sound was just his senses playing tricks on him when he
hears it again, this time a bit louder, as if its source has closed
the distance between them. It seems to come from somewhere almost
directly behind him, although the position is difficult to pinpoint
exactly. It is a strange rustling sort of sound that's unusualness
makes it fairly frightening, especially out in the middle of the
deserted countryside.
Stopping quickly and spinning around, he frantically
looks behind him for the source of the haunting noise. Although
he would never admit the fact to his friends, most of the bravado
he thought he possessed, is leaving him as he stands alone out
in the dark wilderness, lit only by the half-full moon. Again
the noise fades as soon as he turns around, and he cannot see
anything on the landscape near him that poses any threat.
He stays like that for a couple of minutes, nervously
looking all about him, before he dares to turn around once again
and resume his journey homeward. This time he is rather spooked
by the situation and is walking very quickly, trying to keep his
pulse from racing out of control.
Every couple of steps he casts a nervous glance backward,
fearing for the worst. After several minutes of this, a movement
off to his left catches his eyes. He jerks his head in that direction
and sees something moving low along the ground. The apparition
isn't moving too fast and isn't too large; his curiosity wins
out against better judgment, and he slows and stops to get a better
look. Studying this black form for a moment, he is confused by
the fact that it doesn't seem to have any substance to it. Then
in a horrible flash of understanding he realizes that it isn't
a physical object at all, but it a shadow moving along the ground;
moving slowly toward him. Suddenly understanding why he hadn't
seen the source of the noise before and also remembering wild
tales told to him as a child, he brings his head up to the sky.
Overhead still some ways up in the air, looms a winged
creature, silhouetted by the moon, looking like a giant bird of
prey. As he watches, transfixed by his fear, for what seems like
an eternity, but must have been only a few moments, the beast
begins a slow dive toward him. The realization that this animal
means to make him its dinner, finally jars him into action.
Turning away and wildly running from his pursuer,
Alec blindly tries to escape from this ferocious beast as it quickly
gains on him. The whole chase seems to play out incredibly slowly
as his legs refuse to move nearly as fast as he thinks they should
be able to go. Forced by his fear to look behind him, he sees
this horrible animal just feet behind him, reaching quickly down
with its sharp scaly claws.
As the talons dig into the flesh of his back he screams
out in mortal fear. Quick as lightning the beast wraps its grip
around him, under his arms and abruptly hoists him up into the
air. As they disappear into the night sky and he sees the ground
retreating quickly below him he blacks out from the terror and
the pain of the claws piercing his flesh.
His consciousness returns to him as he finds himself
lying upon straw bedding on the floor of a dimly-lit cave. From
what he can see of the view from the opening, the cave must lie
atop the steep mountains to the east of his village. As he stares
at the rocky crags, he numbly realizes that in the short time
he was out, he had been whisked nearly half a days riding distance!
As this horrible realization of the creature's power strikes him
he hears movement from the back of the cave.
Struggling against the dull pain in his chest he
pulls himself up and leans his back against the wall, waiting
for the terrible moment to come. Moving slowly into the moonlight,
the winged figure walks on all fours until it stands in front
of him at an easy striking distance. As he tries in vain to press
closer against the wall, the figure before him rises up on its
hind legs, stretching its taloned arms above its head and spreading
its wings in what surely must be a show of aggression.
It stands there almost motionless regarding him with
its dark eyes as he stares back in disbelief and utter terror.
Very few people had sworn to have seen a fabled griffin and lived
to tell about it. Although the view is extremely awe inspiring,
at this proximity, he will almost surely not live to tell this
tale around the fireside.
The griffin is a magnificent beast, even in its awful
frightfulness. In the brief moments before it makes its move on
him, he is able to study its body and see first hand the impossible
melding of avian and feline bodies into one. The head and upper
body is like that of an eagle, with snow-white feathers and forearms
of exposed scaly skin, ending in rudimentary hands tipped with
very sharp claws. Its wingspan is about seven feet and very impressive
and quite menacing. There are a couple of narrow dark strips of
coloring running down along the bottoms of the wings, creating
an interesting pattern.
At about the midsection of its body, the feathers
give way into fur which is of a light tan color on its sides and
legs. The abdomen, and inner leg regions are white like its feathers.
The griffin's legs are much like that of a giant cat, although
a little thicker, allowing it to stand up like this with seemingly
little difficulty. As it continues to regard him with its dark
cold eyes, its tail swishes lightly back and forth, as if in expectation
of the feast he will soon become.
Finally breaking the moment, the griffin leans down
toward him and brings one of its taloned hands toward his neck.
Holding his breath as his heart is pounding loudly in his ears,
he tries to prepare for the blow and prays it will be as quick
and painless as possible. But to his surprise and bewilderment,
the claws just lightly trace his skin of his cheek and neck, trailing
down to his collar. Then in a swift moment both hands grab the
fabric of his shirt and rip it open, exposing his chest to the
death-blow he fears will happen any second.
But again, to his surprise he is slightly alarmed
to find its claws tracing his flesh lightly, being careful to
avoid the tender puncture wounds they had caused before. As he
stares up at the griffin in horror, his eyes silently plead for
mercy and for it to end this torture quickly. Still even amongst
the fear, the sensations caused by its claws trailing over his
skin, start awakening other feelings in the back of his mind.
Opening up its hands it starts to touch his skin
with its palms. Although the skin appears to be scaly, it actually
isn't rough at all, but is smooth and soft, almost like leather,
but not as tough. Then peering down at him with what looks like
a subtle gleam in its eyes, it advances on him. Moving its legs
forward it steps towards his lap and begins to rub against him,
pushing its inner thighs up against his crotch. It is then with
a blinding flash of realization that he understands that this
is a female griffin and her intentions for him are far from that
of the culinary realm, at least for the moment.
This realization startles him, especially when he
notices his growing arousal being triggered by her contact with
him. He struggles briefly in vain to get away, but she only holds
him fast in place. Then as his struggles die down, she brings
one hand up to slowly stroke his cheek as if to calm him. Her
eyes have become somewhat softer and she looks at him with what
looks like a mixture of desire and compassion.
He is still frightened by the situation, but he finds
his fear ebbing, being replaced by his arousal. As if noticing
this change of emotions, she gently wraps her arms around him,
being careful not to cause any new wounds, and carefully brings
him back down onto the straw bedding. Then trailing her hands
once again down his chest she comes to his belt which she deftly
undoes, and with a little cooperation from him, she slowly slides
his pants and underwear off of him.
Pressing her body against his, he feels the softness
of her fur and downy feathers rub deliciously against his naked
flesh. He reaches up to stroke her neck with one hand and reaches
the other around to caress her haunches and tail. Slowly she spreads
her wings down against them and gently forces him into her.
As they begin to move together, she brings her head
down next to his and whispers in his ears. Her voice is a little
husky, but definitely feminine. With a somewhat playful tone in
her voice, she speaks the first words to him since their encounter:
"If you want to see the sunrise boy, I'd suggest that you
don't disappoint me."
As it turns out, the sunrise the next morning was
the most beautiful one he'd ever seen, and in the months to come
he'd see many more of the same.
Copyright 1994, Will A. Sanborn - was1@shore.net