Kri's Vision

A blur of red. Fumes. White light. And then she was there - Syranita. The light shimmered and wavered over her rose gold feathers as she reached a silvery talon toward me. Pastel clouds lined in the blossoming light of the rising sun drifted all around us. “Not yet, little one.”
 
I open my eyes and spend a few moments blinking frantically as they struggle to adjust to the light of the full moon, glaring down on the wind-barred face of the mountainside. The perfume of preservation oil saturates the air. I struggle to move. My feathers are thick with the stuff. In all directions, bodies are laid in somber states of rest, all coated in the same, sticky oil, glistening in the moonlight. Eventually, I slop to my feet, light headed and swaying as I lurch toward the colony, or whatever might be left of it.
 
The sentinels slowly come into focus as I approach the colony. Weakly, I call out to them. My voice cracks from lack of use. They alight beside me. I hear muffled, confused remarks as I fade to unconsciousness. I dream of my family as Syranita’s words echo in my mind. I dream of Uncle Quirk and pray that I can save him, just as he saved me.