The last thing he remembered were the screams of Miele. Girasol felt disoriented as he started to come to, his ears were ringing. No...that was shouting.
"DON'T MOVE!" screamed his little friend Miele.
Girasol froze, not moving a muscle. His wings ached terribly. He felt something hard and prickly pressing into his belly. There was a scent of greenery--like crushed leaves. He wanted to move his hooves, but he didn't. It felt as though they were barely touching something. Something slanted? It was slanted and made of rocks? No, it felt more like clay--chunks of them shifting where his feet were barely touching. He could feel his heart starting to race. His wings pulsed again with pain, but they could wait.
"Don't move! Just don't move!"
"I won't! What's happened?"
Miele's inhaled sharply with relief when she heard Girasol's voice. She had been yelling for him and at him for what felt like hours but could only be minutes. She'd gone to retrieve a flower when the ground had crumbled underneath Girasol's feet. It wasn't that close to the edge, but the ground was soft and weak there. It had given out beneath him.
When he'd disappeared over the edge, she'd let out a great squeak and fluttered over to the edge to find him. There was a cloud of dust choking her, too thick to see through. She kept calling to Girasol in vain unable to see a thing. The dust was still thick but now at least it had thinned enough to see him. It wasn't good.
He'd somehow tumbled down the hill kicking up rocks as he rolled until he was stopped by a scraggly bush that protruded out of the side of the mountain. It was a miracle he was still stuck there, but it was essential that he not move.
She took a deep breath then started in, "You've fallen. A bush protruding from the mountain is all that's keeping you there." She paused, hating to say it. "I'm going to have to get you help."
Girasol knew that he had to push down the rising panic. Panic meant moving and moving meant falling. He didn't know how far down it was below him and he didn't know how far he'd already fallen. His wings kept pulsing with pain. They were there, but he couldn't seem to move them--they were too painful. They felt almost like they were....torn.
"Okay, I won't move." He tried to joke, "I'll stay right here." As if he could move.
When Miele moved off to find help, he tried to take assessment of his body. Every part of him hurt, except perhaps the flowers that sprouted from his eyes. He was operating on trust, and Miele was probably the one he trusted most in the world. If she said not to move, he wouldn't. Girasol's body felt scraped and brushed. He could smell the coppery scent of blood. His mouth seemed clear of it and the scent wasn't strong. His body didn't feel to be wet or hurting to extent he'd be bleeding a lot. It was safe to assume whatever it was it wasn't vital. There was a crack or maybe a break he could feel on his antlers. It throbbed angrily from being hit hard enough to crack. He could feel his bag near his side, it still had weight to it. Good, it meant that at leas he hadn't lost his bear.
It was hard to know exactly how still he needed to stay without sight. But it also stopped him from seeing how far he'd fallen. He'd heard the concern in Miele's voice, the outright fear so he knew this was bad, really bad. The air was thick with dust and dirt. Every part of his body ached, begging to be moved slightly. His wings felt as though they were barely there. It felt as though something had ripped through them completely. It wasn't as though he flew much, mostly gliding unless Miele was directing from his back...but he loved his wings and he was terrified what this would mean for them. What if he couldn't fly?
Some traitorous inner voice said it wouldn't matter if he died.
As he tried to remain as still as possible, Girasol's muscles began to tremble from holding himself so still. It hurt to take air into his lung as the bushy branches dug into his stomach. All he could do though, was ttry to breath in and out. Just keep breathing.
____
Miele scampered and flew as fast as she could to find help. The problem was that she didn't know exactly where to go to find someone and the longer she took....Miele fluttered her wings faster, feeling uselss for havin to have left Girasol. It was like an open wound to acknowledge that she was too small and weak to help him. It didn't even matter that she had wings.
Domicridhan Strong was traisping through the woods, enjoying the cooler weather. It wouldn't last--at least not yet. It was early autumn and it'd get hot again before long. But this was the best time to start his journey to locate his cousin. It had been too long since he'd seen him. "Loyal, Faithful, Strong," were their words. It had been too long since he'd see his family, those that shared words and honor. He hadn't seen any family since he late foalhood.
He had a general idea of where he could find his cousins, but he'd never been to the area before. He--
A small bee, no a mouse - no, a bee mouse was racing toward him. He wasn't sure what it's intentions were. Did it mean to sting him? How was he supposed to react to something so small without hurting it unnecessarily?
"HELP!" Miele panted out as she threw her wings back to slow her progress. "Help, please!" Her tiny voice squeaked even higher. "My friend is hurt. He fell down the side of a cliff. I can't get him!" Hot tears burned her eyes as she admitted it again worrying that Girasol would still be holding on. What if she was being too slow? What if it was already too late?
"Is he alive?" Domicridhan asked steadly. "Did you see him move?" Miele nodded her head fast. "How large is he? Is he small like you or large like me?"
"He's a cerynei. Smaller than you." Miele said. "We need to go!"
Domicridhan took a breath to think. He had to think of what he needed or might need before he got there. It occurred to him that he had several more long scarves in his bad. That'd do it. "Lead the way."
By the time they arrived, Girasol was trembling. Domicrichan had eased as close to the edge as he could and looked down to assess. The stallion wasn't that far done, it was more that he was just in a difficult position. He pulled out the four extra scarves he had and took the one off his neck to offer to the little bee mouse."Can you tie this together? If you can, then if you can scramble down and wrap these scarves around him. When I say go, he'll have to push himself out of the bush but I can only hold his weight for a few seconds like that. He'll have to turn his body and use his hooves to walk his way up while I keep the scarves as tight as I can. Can you do that?"
Miele nodded yes before scrambling to the edge, Very carefully, he used her wings to flutter and keep balance as she moved down toward Girasol with her hands and feet. The wings helped to balance her when she fluttered them every now and then.
Slowly, she worked her way around his waist as she told him the plan. The knotted scarves were like a colorful kite tail hanging down the side of the cliff. When she'd gotten the knot tied securely between his front legs and around his waist, she moved to his face and gently gave him the scarf to grip between his teeth.
"This is going to work, it's going to be okay," she said as confidently as she could.
"Of course it is," Girasol nudged her. "When I'm with you, I'm always okay." Then he gripped the scarves between his teeth.
Miele climbed up as quickly as she could. She didn't want Girasol to see how emotional what he said made her He had such faith in her. Her heart was so full of the feeling that for a moment she didn't realize she'd reached the top.
Domicridan wrapped the scarves around a tree, then pulled it tight with his teeth. Giving Miele a nod, she signaled Girasol to move. Girasol pushed himself out of the prickly bush, and for a moment the rope dropped as Domicridhan got his grip to pull. He could feel the sweat breaking out on his brow as he pulled and pulled and then pulled some more.
Inch by inch, Girasol made it up the cliff by holding on with his mouth and using the leverge to walk up the side while Domicridhan pulled. Finally, Girasol crested the top and fell into a heap on the ground. Thinking better of it, he inched his way forward a couple of feet while panting.
When the tension left, Domicridhan had fallen backewards with the force of his pulling. He was trying to catch his breath, but the air felt kind of thin for the moment.
Girasol turned his flower eyes to the sun and basked in it''s warmth. "Thank you," he told them both. "And nice to meet you, I'm Girasol."
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