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Grrit and Bek walked the desert alone.
Grrit’s feet skated across the cold sand in search of something; but the only shadows in relief against the stars were occasional cacti, or a wandering Enderman.
They hadn't always been alone.
The place they came into being had many other monsters, though no other chickens. Grrit had been rather lonely there in the dark with no one like her. That might have factored into Bek’s decision to leave.
Grrit didn’t know. Bek would never admit to it if it were true. But Grrit was certain there was a heart somewhere in him; behind his dead eyes and sharp commands. Maybe she was just being delusional. But it was easier to feel things like hope, once she felt grass for the first time. And even as much as it pained her to admit… the sun.
The sun was a terrifying beast that could set her rider aflame in an instant. That’s why it seemed so peculiar that Bek would command her to exit the cave when a sinkhole tore open their prison. Though, some other monsters escaped too, and Grrit just assumed they were stupid. Bek couldn’t be stupid, so what other logical reason was there?
Bek was a wise and kind leader. Though leader didn’t seem the right word. Grrit only knew she needed to follow his every command. That was her purpose. Take him wherever he wished to go.
Their lives were bound. In the pit that was their origin – their home – they could not exist without the other. Bek would’ve been crushed since he was so much smaller than the other monsters. Grrit would’ve gone insane from the isolation or darkness. Bek, though a creature of few words, spoke to her.
He gave her a name.
She had been speaking to him long before he ever answered, assuming he never would. But his black eyes held a steady focus that told Grrit he was listening. He would listen to her musings about the world. Ranting about having her talon being stomped on by a lumbering idiot. Crying from hunger when bugs were scarce in their cave.
Then one day, instead of a command, he pointed at her and said, “Grrit.”
“Me?” Grrit asked incredulously.
He nodded.
Grrit was stunned into a happy silence for the rest of that day. She had long called him Bek. Not in any one moment, it was just something that came out over time when she made a noise at him to get his attention.
For years he kept her sane. When nothing made sense he was the ONE THING that did.
Sometimes they walked in patterns together. Circling the other and mimicking. It was a game developed naturally as they were always together. Grrit would laugh, never able to keep a straight face. Bek would almost smile. When he was riding her for a long time, he would absent-mindedly pet her crown and check her feathers. He slept the day away nestled into her side.
Now they were free.
They wandered the world. Strode through tall grasses and climbed trees.
It occurred to Grrit then what life was supposed to have been like. Everything made so much more sense. She never starved anymore. Bek’s face slowly changed. He grew little green patches of moss, and mushrooms occasionally bloomed out of his skin.
He was beautiful.
This world was beautiful and it leeched up into him, claiming him as its son. He began to speak more. Never more than two words at a time, but they found a way to understand each other.
Grrit had once wanted to find a new home. But Bek had an important purpose that transcended everything else. He would continue with or without her. It wasn’t an option.
And she could not be without him. That wasn’t an option either.
He was her world.
They would find caves where they could, though they never went very far in, and maybe that was another of Bek’s courtesies. Grrit hated being back in caves and never slept. Every sound startled her awake. She felt trapped.
The greatest days were spent under the shade of dark oak trees or in water. They were truly free to explore. To feel warmth without it being a danger. To see glimpses of the sun’s filigree on the edges of the world; around the impressions of leaves splaying over the forest floor.
They could have made their home in such a place, were it not for Bek’s purpose.
Something was driving him through a desert.
Grrit pleaded with him not to. They’d always tried avoiding deserts. They were too risky. Too flat, too barren. No shade. No water.
But Bek didn’t argue. He continued on, even as Grrit planted her talons in refusal. She watched him walk away into a sea of sand. Her willpower only lasted as long as to see him trip one time before she ran to pick him up again.
He said nothing, but he laid his head atop her’s and traced patterns in her feathers.
They were lucky on the first day in the desert, having found a temple to hide in the shade of.
But the second sunrise was approaching soon.
Grrit was running as fast as she could. Her back ached from Bek’s weight punctuating each stride. She kept flipping her head to the horizon, then forward again, utter dread sinking her stomach waiting for the glimmer of the sun to crest the dunes.
“Grrit,” Bek growled.
“No, no we can make it,” she huffed. “There has to be something.”
She peeled her eyes, trying to see any shape on the horizon that might indicate sanctuary.
“Grrrr.”
Grrit hissed back. They couldn’t waste any time.
The weight on her back wobbled. Bek was threatening to stand.
Grrit let out an angry bock and stopped. Her legs trembled from exertion. She started to cry the instant his weight left her back.
Bek came around and kneeled before her.
She looked deep into his black eyes and saw the world reflected out. All the darkness of where they’d been. The distant sunrise glowing in his eyes.
A promise of spending every last moment together.
She reached for him and her feathers caught the first rays of sun. She had a moment to register it as warm, when in the next moment a shadow of her feather was reflected on his chest.
Immediately her wings shot open. There was a way to save him.
“Bek get down!” she cried, tracking the sun’s progress on the sand and straining her wings as wide as she could.
It had never occurred to her that she might be able to produce a shadow. As it was, it was rather small, but it was something.
She moved with the sun.
Her heart raced with exhaustion, muscle strain, and the sun's rays beating into her back for hours. Bek did not sleep. He carefully followed her shadow as the sun moved. Clutching her talon when he could, and talking when he couldn’t. In stunted grunts he reminded her of beautiful things they had seen.
He conjured up images of the moon at its largest. Of waterfalls with enough mist to block out the sun. Of the jokes she laughed the hardest at.
Grrit couldn’t stop crying but she had to laugh again. “Keep this up and my tears will be plan B to keep you alive,” she attempted to joke back.
As time passed, Bek started digging. Maybe it finally got through his head that she wasn’t going to let him burn. He slowly shifted the sand, back and forth, trying against the laws of nature to clear a space for himself to hide.
It took a long time but it worked. He somehow dug enough of a dip in the sand for her to cover him with one wing. With the other, she worked on enshrouding him with more sand until only part of his head was exposed.
Sunset felt like a dream.
The whole open sky exploded in color, stretching on for ages. It was awe, and then relief. Cold darkness settling over the dessert.
Grrit slowly uncovered Bek, wings aching with every small movement of sore muscles and cracked skin.
Bek sat up looking worse for wear. He was covered in sand; it came wooshing off his limbs with every movement. Some of his moss was browning.
He was still beautiful.
He still carried her world in his eyes.
He met her on his knees and put his face to her breast. She continued trying to catch her breath but tried to steady it so he would keep his head there.
Then she wrapped her wings around him and didn’t give him a choice but to stay there.
“Thank… you” he grunted into her feathers.
“Shh,” she hissed, holding back tears again by shutting her eyes hard.