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by Paleon Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1300640
A short story written for...... A competition.
         I awoke that morning to the sound of anxious yells coming from the yard outside. It was most likely that one of the gryphons had wandered where it shouldn’t and the men were trying to recapture and contain it safely. Although nobody had come to fetch me I thought it best that I go down and offer whatever help I could; so I pulled on my handling outfit and headed out.

         The handling outfit is probably the most uncomfortable thing I have ever had to wear, although it has undoubtedly saved me from many injuries since I’ve been here. It is made of thick, treated leather for the most part; cut and fitted to the individual that wears it. It’s meant to be light and durable but I find it heavy and awfully sweaty too. It will keep a gryphon’s claws out longer than most other things though so I really shouldn’t complain.

         As I was walking along the upstairs corridor of the house I noticed an unfamiliar quiet had fallen over the place. Where you would normally see handlers getting up and preparing for the day ahead there were already empty bedrooms all around. There was also a distinct lack of housekeeping staff; they would normally be going about the task of making the upstairs beds as the handlers vacated their rooms. I continued down the stairs and was met with just part of the commotion that had taken over the lower part of the house.

         Just as I had reached the bottom few steps one of the housekeepers came hurrying past, a half filled bucket of boiling water held out in front of her. Her hair was falling out from beneath her head cloth and trailing behind her face in unruly straggles, a look of harried angst across her face. Before I had a chance to ask what was going on she was out of the door and disappearing round towards the yard.

         It was at that point that I began to wonder if one of the gryphons was injured but even that idea didn’t sit right in my mind. Being a gryphon sanctuary everyone here was used to dealing with injured gryphons and I’d never seen this much commotion before. Now that I too was coming out of the door and walking around towards the yard I began to realise that something serious was going on. There was a group of wagons pulled over at the far end of the yard, surrounded by many of the men I worked with. I couldn’t see for sure but it looked like one of the wagons was swaying as if under a large and angry weight. I remember thinking that there couldn’t possibly be a gryphon inside the wagon but it wasn’t the first thing I’d been wrong about in my life.

         As I was approaching I heard a great squawking howl unlike that of any gryphon I had heard before. As the sound emanated out from the wagon the men began backing slowly away, their eyes not moving from whatever was inside the wagon. The roof of the wagon began stretching as if being pushed out from beneath and it rocked violently from side to side. The men backed further away and began looking quickly around them; looking for corners to run to should the worst happen. I thought of backing up myself as the men grew closer to where I was standing but I decided to wait for them to reach me so that I could ask them what was going on.

         I spied Dalton, my tutor, and side stepped so that I would meet him as he backed further towards where I stood. He seemed to know I was there as he called out and summoned me to his side.

         “Is that a gryphon in there Dalton?” I asked eagerly. I couldn’t help but notice the sweat on his brow and the blood that sat high on his cheeks.

         “Aye son, in a fashion.” He was almost breathless but whether this was through fear or excitement I couldn’t tell.

         “What does ‘in a fashion’ mean? Surely it is or it isn’t.” He chuckled at this and I got the feeling that had his lungs possessed the necessary air then laughter would have bellowed forth in great rumbling sheets.

         “Seems we got ourselves something a little rarer than most of the gryphons that pass through this way normally boy.” The further he got from the wagon the more his breath seemed to be returning to him. “In there is what we call a snow gryphon; although technically I don’t suppose it’s a gryphon at all. Where gryphons are part eagle and part lion, that thing is part falcon and part snow leopard. Only usually see them on the snow covered mountain peaks of the north. What one is doing this far south I don’t know.”

         “Well, what are we going to do about it? Surely we can’t just leave it in that wagon, why is everyone moving away?”

         “No choice boy. That noise you heard was the snow gryphon sucking the air from our lungs, and a good defence mechanism it is. We’ll have to let him tire his self out before we can get near him.” At that he turned and started walking back towards the house, leaving the other men behind who were now standing in a long line which made them look like guards on duty.

         Once inside Dalton unlatched his helmet from under his chin and pulled it from his head. The hair beneath was damp and flat and you could tell that he hadn’t washed that morning.

         “Someone will fetch us when it is time. Would you like some breakfast?”

         “Not really. I want to know more about this snow gryphon.” He chuckled again; he always seemed to find my curiosity entertaining.

         “Well. About an hour ago the wagons turned up. Just one first off, and the people inside came flying out. They were shouting and waving but none of us could understand a word they were saying. Not from anywhere around here I dare say. When the other wagons turned up we realised that something wasn’t right and that’s when we saw what they had in one of the wagons. Quite a surprise it was as well.”

         He went on to explain that snow gryphons are rarely seen by anyone, even when travelling through their territory. They’re very private creatures. The people in the wagons had travelled down from the mountains with a heavily pregnant woman which they think attracted the beast in the first place. Whilst the dragons of myth had nursed a liking for young maidens: snow gryphons, apparently, had more of a taste for babies. The people in the wagons hadn’t noticed the beast until shortly after the woman had gone in to labour which was when it started attacking the wagon she was in. The men inside the other wagons shot it down and clubbed its head to subdue it before dragging in to the back of an empty wagon. Quite what had possessed them to do this no one had quite worked out.

         “So, if no one can get close to this thing then where was the maid going with the water. Is one of our gryphons injured?”

         “Not at all boy but the traveller’s baby still hasn’t appeared and the maids are helping with the labour out in one of the other wagons.”

         And so he continued with his story. Needless to say the beast hadn’t remained unconscious and now that it was fully awake it did not seem pleased with what was going on. Every trained man we had was out there trying to calm the beast but nothing seemed to be working. When it had started sucking the breath from their lungs they had decided to cut their losses and wait for the beast to tire. Depending on how well the beast coped with it’s injuries that could take anywhere between a few minutes and a few days. It was anybody’s guess.

         I eventually relented and took Dalton up on his offer of breakfast. My mother had died when I was very young and my father, a busy blacksmith, had never had time to teach me how to cook. By the time I came here at the age of twelve there was no need for me to learn because the maids prepared all of our meals. So, three years on and I still could not cook my own meals. Laughable really.

         Whilst unable to cook, it did seem that I possessed a good sense of timing as no sooner had I finished my breakfast than one of the handlers came bursting through the door.

         “Beast seems to be weakening but he’s not too keen on it Dalton. We could use all the help we can get.” He looked towards me and nodded his head in my direction. “Bring the boy too; not likely he’ll see anything like this again.” At that the other handler went back out through the door as fast as he had come through it and we followed not far behind.

         On turning in to the yard it was clear to see that the beast was tiring, but he was still struggling a great deal against any attempt to harness him. His tiredness was almost as much of a danger as his anger as he was likely to lunge and fall at any moment. It was now possible to catch glimpses of him past the other handlers and he was amazing. Unlike the usual gryphons we deal with that vary from tan to dark brown in colouring this creature was almost entirely white with a few circular grey patches across his hind quarters and down his tail. His amazing tail. It wasn’t at all like a lion’s tail, as with normal gryphons. It was much longer than a lion’s and where the lion’s tail is covered in thin flat hair this had soft fluffy hair along the length of the tail shaft. Instead of thinning towards the end before bushing out in a tuft of hair its tail almost seemed to get thicker towards the end. It would probably make an amazing weapon in itself.

         I expected him to have black eyes but instead they were a liquid shade of blue, thin in their transparency but at the same time deep. There was anger in his eyes, without a doubt, but most of what showed through was fear. The likelihood was that he had encountered few people in his life and of those he had met he had probably not been very close to them. Certainly not close enough for them to attempt harnessing him. Irrelevant of this the men seemed to be making progress. Dalton had gone up ahead but instructed me to stay near the back and observe. Part of me was jealous that I couldn’t get a close look at such a magnificent beast but a larger part of me was filled with terror just at the thought of getting closer to him.

         I watched as the handlers threw ropes across his body in an attempt to subdue and harness him. They’d long given up on the idea of getting a halter over his head. He was struggling against the ropes but there seemed to be too many over him now and he was losing blood from one of his wounds as some of the ropes were slowly turning a deep red. It was just when I thought they had him beaten that a shout came from the front. It sounded more like a scream of pain and in response to it all the other handlers surged away and to the sides.

         Before I knew what was going on all of the handlers that had been in front of me had dropped their ropes and run to the sides. The snow gryphon was using the last of his strength to break free. He had thrown one handler aside, presumably the man that had screamed, before bursting out of the back of the wagon; knocking a large part of the roof out with his head.

         I didn’t have time to think, certainly had no time to run. Before I even had a chance to blink, or so it felt, he was directly in front of me and close up he was truly extraordinary. Every ounce of the flesh that rippled beneath his fur and feathers was toned muscle. He looked much stronger than a lot of the gryphons I had seen before, which were either dangerously thin or cruelly overweight. He stopped in front of me, perched unsteadily on his hind legs, his front talons held up in front of his torso. Whether that was an aggressive or defensive stance I wasn’t sure. I remember thinking that his talons looked very strong. Too strong for the defence of my handling suit anyway and I froze to the spot with numbing fear.

         I knew I should turn and run but all I could do was look at him. Pure white feathers covered his head and flanks, graduating slowly in to the mottled fur that covered his hind quarters and tail. His wings were snow white with the exception of the tips which dulled to a charcoal grey. His ears twitched nervously on top his head, high pointed as you would see on a leopard. His breathing was heavy and smelt rank although not from anything he’d eaten. His breath smelt almost as if he was sick, diseased, and he wheezed heavily with every outwards breath.

         Knowing I shouldn’t, but doing so anyway, I raised my gaze to his eyes and stared directly in to them. One of the first things I had been taught when I got here was not to look in to the eyes of a feral gryphon, but I couldn’t help it. I was young and foolish and longed to capture some of the wisdom behind those blue eyes. He stared back at me and his breathing deepened. He shifted his weight on his back legs and toppled forwards so that his talons were lower to the ground. I had just a moment to think about how stupid I had been to stare him in the eyes. Just a moment before he would charge me down, ripping the life from my body. Only, it didn’t happen like that.

         He shifted his weight on his feet again, came forward half a foot and fell to the floor in front of me. He leaned to the side as he went down and landed on his right hand side, one eye to the floor and the other to the sky. My breath stopped in my throat as I tried to think what to do next. All thoughts of running had left me but I couldn’t help him on my own. He looked up at me from the ground and I knew I had to help him. I dropped to my knees by his head and took a quick glance to observe his body. For the most part he only had flesh wounds but I could see where one bullet had gone in to his flesh and that wound was deep. This was most likely the wound that had bloodied the ropes around him.

         I slowly stood and walked down his body. Tentatively I bent down and took the remaining ropes from his back so that he could breathe more freely. As I did so I couldn’t help but notice how soft his coat was; the feathers as well as the fur, his whole coat was so sleek. I turned my head towards the men at the side of us and beckoned for them to help but as they moved closer the snow gryphon struggled on the floor as if trying to get up, the fear flying high in his eyes. It was then that I heard Dalton’s voice from the crowd.

         “Looks like you’re on your own boy. We’ll bring water and the like as close as we can but I think you’ll have to take it from there.” I looked to him pleadingly; I couldn’t do this on my own. “Now, don’t pull that face, you know how to clean up gryphon wounds and it don’t look much like he wants anyone else near him. So this is the way it’ll have to be.”

         My shoulders dropped a good inch as I realised that no one could help me. Dalton was right in a way, I did know how to tend to wounds such as these on a gryphon, but I had only dealt with tame gryphons. I’d never even been this close to a feral gryphon, let alone tried to touch or treat one. I waited for the water, cloths and tools to be brought over; in that time my breathing deepened to match that of the snow gryphons. When at last I had everything I would need I dropped back to my knees by the worst of the wounds. I began talking, half to myself, half to the beast that lay in front of me, and although I didn’t realise it at the time I suppose I sounded very much like Dalton: fatherly and soft but a little condescending.

         “Alright now boy. Dare say you won’t like this much but it has to be done so I guess neither of us really gets a choice.”

         First of all I washed some of the matted blood out his fur so that I could get a better look at what I was dealing with. The wound was wide, probably because the bullet had gone through at an angle, and it would be hard to sew up. Before I could think about that properly though I needed to get the bullet out. I took some long gloves from the box I had been passed and pulled them over my hands. That was a lot harder than it should have been as my hands were damp and clammy. Once the gloves were on I paused and looked towards the beast’s head, half hoping that consciousness might have slipped away from him. No such luck. He eyed me wearily and fear ran through my body.

         “I got to get this bullet out of you boy. Afraid there’s only one way to do that and you’re not going to like it much.”

         I looked back to the wound and took a deep breath in. I’d probably only get one chance at this so I couldn’t afford to mess it up. I held the breath in my lungs and slowly eased my hand in to the wound, following the trail carved out by the bullet. The beast cried out and the breath came bursting out from my lungs. I think a tear or two fell from my eyes too, I thought that was it for me. Though, much to my relief, the snow gryphon did not attack as I had expected him too. Instead he groaned and partially shut his eyes.

         Seeing that I was safe for now I continued looking for the bullet. It wasn’t long before I found it but it took me a good minute to get a firm grasp on it. Every time I thought I had it, it would slip away from me. On pulling it out I flung it away to the side of me and ripped the gloves from my hands as fast as I could. I took some of the clean cloths and washed the wound as best as I could before taking out the sewing kit and going about stitching the wound. The beast continued to groan as I stitched but he didn’t struggle again.

         Once the stitching was done I went about tending to the other wounds. None of these were deep as the bullets had deflected away from the beast’s body. I cleaned the rest of them up, popped a stitch or two in one of them and went about checking for any other injuries. Luckily for him there did not seem to be any. With relief I turned round to Dalton who had been watching from the front of the crowd.

         “I’m done. What now?” Dalton was pale and before the words left his mouth I already knew what he was going to say.

         “Think you can get a harness on him?” As he said it he threw one over to me. It was made of the same treated leather as my handling outfit and it smelt new. I took it up in my hands and simply looked at it, terror running through my veins. The look on my face must have said a lot because Dalton felt the need to call over again. “No good looking at it like you’ve never seen one before. Put it on him boy. Strange as it is to think it, I reckon he might let you.”

         The only word I heard at the time was might. There were no guarantees that the beast would even entertain the idea of me putting a harness on him. So, with great trepidation I bent down to his regal head and tried not to concentrate on his sharp beak. It was yellow in colour, but pale; not dark enough to greatly stand out from the rest of his pale body. I lowered my left hand towards that beak, all the while thinking that I’d lose the hand, and maybe my life, for what I was about to try. I slipped my hand between his beak and the floor and slowly lifted his head away from the floor so that I could angle the harness around his beak.

         To my surprise he didn’t protest at all; there was no fight left in him. Still, I continued cautiously as I secured the harness loosely behind those wondrous feline ears, pointed black at their tips as were his wings. As I’d been doing this someone had thrown over a rope which I now picked up and attached to the bottom of the halter, below his beak. I slowly stood, holding the rope loosely in my hands, making sure not to take my eyes away from the beast. Once on my feet I backed away three or four steps and moved slightly to the side before tugging gently on the rope. He lifted his head and looked up to my face. He was tired and scared but all of his anger had seeped away. He groaned deeply before slowly climbing up on to his hind legs.

         He was easily two feet taller than me and I knew that if the urge took him he could kill me in a second. It was only at this point that I realised I had no idea where I was meant to go with him. Probably seeing the panic in my face Dalton’s voice came to my rescue.

         “Cow barn, boy; round the front. All of the cows are grazing.” I breathed a sigh of relief and began walking forwards; I only had about 200 metres to go before I would reach the cow barn and it had large high doors that the snow gryphon hopefully wouldn’t mind walking through. We kept cows all year round to feed the gryphons that we took in to the sanctuary and I never thought I’d be so glad of their presence. If they hadn’t been there then there wouldn’t have been anywhere for me to go with the beast and that didn’t bear thinking about. We couldn’t take him near any of our gryphons, heaven only knows whether they would have accepted or killed each other. It wasn’t a risk worth taking.

         The beast followed slowly behind me, keeping a good lengths distance between us. I don’t know whether that was a deliberate effort on his part but I was grateful all the same. He went in to the barn much easier than I’d expected and once in there I took the rope from the harness and went back outside. Someone had laid fresh straw for the cows, ready for when they came back, so I was confident that the snow gryphon would be comfortable there for a while.

         When I came back outside I was greeted by a chorus of quiet clapping; no one wanting to startle the recuperating snow gryphon. Against my greatest wishes a small, proud smile crept across my face and I embraced the praise that I was receiving. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins and I felt invincible. I hadn’t even thought of what would happen with the snow gryphon next and before I had a chance Dalton had appeared and whisked me back in to the house, calling behind him as he did so.

         “Everyone to work clearing up this mess. Any spare hands make sure the maids have all the help they need with the woman and her baby.”

         Once inside I sat down at the kitchen table and gratefully took the drink that Dalton passed me. I didn’t know what it was, didn’t really care, so when I took a big gulp of it and realised too late that it was whiskey I found it hard not to choke. It chased down my throat like tumbling fire and I deeply regretted not taking a smaller sip.

         “You did well out there, boy. Did me proud. Now drink that up and then go about getting the snow gryphon some food and medicine.”

         I almost dropped the cup he had given me; I’d thought it was over and done with; it had never occurred to me that I’d have to go back in there. I looked at Dalton questioningly and a soft smile spread over his face, spreading to his eyes and making him look younger than he was.

         “That beast isn’t going to let anyone else near him anytime soon. He’s going to be your responsibility for a good while now.” I took another gulp of whiskey and it was only after that had gone down that I thought to ask the most obvious question of all.”

         “I know I shouldn’t have looked him in the eyes, not after everything you’ve taught me, but when I did why didn’t he attack me? I thought it was an aggressive gesture to look a gryphon in the eye.”

         “That it is, boy, that it is. When you look a gryphon in the eye it sees everything inside you. Every good and bad thing you ever did. Gryphons are judgemental creatures, it’s their right to be, and when they look in a man’s eye they often see things they don’t like. Guess that fella liked what he saw when he looked in your eyes. You’re awful lucky though and even though he judged you worthy I wouldn’t recommend looking in the eyes of any more gryphons from now on. Now get outside and fetch the poor devil some food.”

         I nodded and rose to my feet. Pushing away from the table I felt giddy from the whiskey. I’d never really drunk alcohol before and I wobbled before turning from the door. Thankfully Dalton ignored this.

         “Reckon you made a friend for life there, boy. Reckon you helped that beast when no one else could; he won’t forget that.”

         Dalton was right about that. It took a while to nurse the beast back to health, as I’d thought from the smell of his breath he was sick a long time before anyone shot him. When he finally did recover we couldn’t get him back in to the wild. Every time we tried he just followed me back to the sanctuary. In the end we had to build a new barn to house him and he’s been a permanent fixture ever since.

         He lets more people near him now but he never really relaxes around them and nor they with him. Whenever I go to work at other sanctuaries he goes with me and everyone has grown used to seeing us together. Dalton always said that as I’d saved the beast’s life he felt the need to repay me and that until he did he wouldn’t leave me. I’ve always hoped that, should Dalton be right, it would never come to that. I’ve grown used to the beast’s company and I’d miss him greatly if he ever returned to the mountains.

         One thing that always entertains people about him though: tame as he’s grown everyone, including myself, still refers to him as the beast.

         The travelling woman’s baby was born safely and is growing up fast. They pass through often and the boy shows a great desire to work with us when he’s older. I think he thinks that all gryphons are like the beast and he’ll tire of the idea when he realises they’re not but I suppose only time will tell on that one.



This is my entry for Round One of:

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