Rescue

Rescue

Zelnard knelt in the warm sand, reaching carefully toward the tiny fesealon. Up close, it looked even smaller than he had first imagined. Its smooth, leather-like skin was damp but beginning to dry beneath the afternoon sun. The little creature hissed bravely, opening its mouth to reveal rows of tiny teeth that looked far more adorable than frightening.

It wriggled desperately, trying to escape, but Zelnard's hands were gentle and steady. As he lifted it from the sand, the frightened creature twisted once before becoming strangely still, as though it sensed that this young boy meant it no harm.

Cradled safely in his arms, the fesealon's tiny heart fluttered rapidly against his hands. Zelnard understood that feeling all too well. The creature feared the sea just as he did. One wrong wave had dragged it from the safety of a rock where it was basking with its family. Zelnard had occasionally seen a family of fesealons laying happily in the sun on the rocks off shore on calmer days and now the saltwater and sun threatened to kill this little orphan. Like Zelnard himself, it had been torn from the place where it belonged and left frightened on a vast beach.

He smiled softly.

“Hey there little one,I know how you feel,” he whispered.

Looking beyond the beach, Zelnard spotted the gentle river winding through the reeds. Unlike the crashing sea, its brackish water flowed quietly toward the outlet that lead to the sea. If he could return the little fesealon there, it would have time to recover before finding its way home.

Holding the tiny creature carefully against his chest, Zelnard began the journey.

He crossed the wide beach, climbed over the sandy dunes, and pushed into the thick reeds that lined the riverbank. Razor grass scratched at his legs, leaving thin stinging cuts across his skin. Brambles tugged at his cloak, and every step became harder than the last. The little fesealon was slippery and squirmed in his arms even with its dry skin and Zelnard had to keep a firm grip on it to prevent it from falling. But he never loosened his hold, even when the sharp grasses tore at his hands and arms.

Still, he never loosened his grip.

Each time the little fesealon looked up at him with its wide, trusting eyes, Zelnard forgot the pain. Some things were simply worth a few scratches and he knew that back at the monastery, one of the mages would be able to heal his wounds. But the fesealon had no one to help it, and Zelnard would not let it down.

By the time he reached the quiet river, both he and the creature were exhausted. His legs stung, his arms ached, and his chest heaved with every breath. He slowly made his way to the river's edge and lowered it down into the cooling water. It lay there for a moment and lingered in the calm water. The fesealon was safe from the waves, and that was all that mattered to Z. Calmer now and not as dry he picked it up again and looked upstream.

Thy Quests
Have you ever rescued an animal or even a tiny insect? Perhaps you've shown kindness to a frightened pet or helped a creature that couldn't help itself. Describe what happened in Thy Quests to continue your adventure.