September Prompt - Wither
Although not enjoyable physically, Sarnor still very much liked the autumn’s arrival. Their fluffiness had made it bearable in the past years, but now the muscle and fur was beginning to fade away. This year, they could finally feel the cold wind against their bones.
The late season meant that the rot would be particularly ferocious in the coming months. Yet, Sarnor found that they were host to new growths during these times. It was worth the sacrifice to keep these plants and fungi alive. Especially if it was for research purposes…
For that, they were visiting Huckleberry. The keb’s plant knowledge was vast, and his book had certainly helped Sarnor in guiding new witches to create complex brews and potions. He always appreciated the things that the white one would bring - even if it was just themself. Their situation was admittedly unique. They remained alive, perhaps by magic, but their body was being devoured by flora and animal alike. This always intrigued Huckleberry.
His studies would certainly be going to good use. Sarnor was confident that the research would help modern witches and druids become more comfortable and frequent. The thought that doctors, too, could benefit from it made them very happy. It was hard to tell from the outside, but the white one was content.
Far from home now, they had taken flight to see the professor in his home across the mountain from theirs. Sar’s wings were swift and true, but the sharp winds of the new season cut through their open flesh. They could feel themself getting far more tired than before. Their breath was one of frost, the tips of their grand antlers icy. They were nearly there, but already tired.
They landed unceremoniously, but grace had not left their body. For the giant’s size they were rather elegant, and fixed themself into a proper stance with their head lifted high. Their wings folded back to their sides neatly, and they began the familiar trek towards the cabin ahead. They could scent the smoke pouring forth from the chimney.
They walked around back to find Huckleberry tending to gardens. It was silent for a moment, so they stood still waiting for signs of acknowledgement. After a moment, they heard, “Oh, Sarnor… You’re withering.”
It was true. Now they could no longer even perceive the other keb; their remaining eye had been lost, and the entirety of that side of their face was now a skull. Their rib cage was completely free. Most likely their wrists would be next… The flesh was minimizing and the gold bangles around them began to hang.
“Quite alright.” Rasped the great white one, who simply picked at flowers and mushrooms along their form. “The season brought new life.” They offered out a collection of herbs to Huckleberry, who hummed thoughtfully. “I appreciate the gifts, Sar… But at this rate of decay you will be gone perhaps by next year.”
“Then I trust you will collect samples from my tree.” They huffed.
“Not me to be concerned for you,” Huckleberry said, bothered, “but you have a family, and you’re letting yourself go.”
“I have lived to see my son through his youth. Now I must continue the sacrifice I made before his birth.” Before the other keb could press a last time, Sarnor kept on, “I am happy to spend my autumn doing this for you, and I will be with them for these last seasons of mine.”
Huckleberry collected the flora quietly, unsure what to say. Eventually, he managed only a small, “thank you.”