Sage's Aging Quests

A gentle rumble shook her body. Warmth. Comfort. Then cold. Her mother stood up and nuzzled her, and she cheeped her confusion. It has been less than day since her hatching, but she had no words for that yet. Another rumble, encouraging her. Only then did she realize there was a rhythm to the rumbles, with the same one every time she was nuzzled.

"Sage."

Unfocused eyes looked up, impossibly high, towards a large dark muzzle fading to burnt cream. Another rumble, then Mother was further away. Confusion, she tried to follow, but her legs weren't quite working. She stumble-rolled over onto her side, peeping. Mother nudge her back upright. She got her legs underneath her, steadier. She tried to stand again. Shaky, unbalanced, but standing. A rumble of approval shook her body. The gentlest of nuzzles. Her legs shook with the effort to stay standing.

"Sage."

She looked back up at Mother, nearly toppling over. Sage took in the comforting sight of Mother's dark muzzle and burned cream face. Mother moved her head out of view, blurry, then a most delicious smell filled her being. A small piece of deliciousness was dropped in front of her. She moved forward, but then tumbled, legs tangling. Again she stood, making progress towards what Mother placed before her. A small, tentative bite. Deliciousness as her nose promised. She ate until she couldn't, only then did mother lay back down next to her. Sleep gently took her into the realm of dreams.

***

A week later

Birds sang in the trees around them. Mother was trying to get her to run, but she didn't want to. The sun was warm and soothing on her back. The only thing that might convince her was food, and Mother had no food. So she was staying put in her comfy nest to nap. At least, that's what she'd wanted to do. Mother came over, and for a moment Sage thought she was getting what she wanted. Then the ground disappeared from under her. Mother was carrying her between her teeth. For the first time she knew fear, being carried in her Mother's jaws. The ground was so far below her. She peeped in uncertainty. Her mother rumbled, amused. Only a few steps from the nest, but for Sage, it was a hike.

"Once you get back to the nest you can stay there the rest of today," said Mother.

Then Mother sat, watching her, and their surroundings. She gulped. The nest was so far away. While her legs didn't shake as much when she stood, walking was still difficult. Sage looked back at her Mother, who watched her with a familiar loving yet firm gaze. There was no getting around it, the only way she'd get back to the nest was on her own two feet. She turned back around, sure that Mother would keep her safe. There was an incline leading up to the nest, and it felt like a mountain. Behind her, Mother encouraged Sage with her warm rumbles. In front of her stood a test of her will to push through struggles. At the end? A nap. Sage stumbled, and needed to take many breaks, flopping on the ground 'like a wet fish' to her Mother's amusement. Then she'd get back up, and continue. Loose rocks made her slide down a few times, she hissed and snapped at the offending rocks in exhausted frustration. All while Mother watched.

The sun was high above their rocky alcove by the time she reached the outer walls of the nest. She collapsed against it, energy completely spent. Only then did Mother get up and walk over, mercifully with food. She gulped it down, and then crawled into the nest, sagging down into the familiar surroundings. Mother rumbled a lullaby and nudged her closer to her side, and soon her eyes were closing.

The next morning Mother woke her up with the sun. She blinked in sleepy confusion. The first few rays lit the skyline like brilliant feathers. It made Mother's spotted coat glow like the sun in the arm light. All this beauty made her grumpy. Why couldn't it wait until after she was ready to wake up? Mother was quiet as she got up, stretching her legs and shaking the sleep from her body. Sage knew she after yesterday she wouldn't be allowed to stay in the nest. Fear of the world outside their protected alcove curled around her heart, and she curled up tighter against the nest wall, whimpering. Mother turned around with a soft look in her eyes.

"Come, I know you don't want to, but the world is harsh, and you must learn to push through the struggle to survive. Today, we walk," Mother said firmly, but not unkindly.

Reluctantly Sage stood up. Mother rumbled in approval. Reluctant pride rushed through her at the praise. Already she was longer than Mother's foot, 'Growing fast as a sparrow flies' as mother liked to say every time Sage stumbled over her newfound growth. This time, she left the nest with more grace. She followed mother's slowed gait to the path that lead outside the alcove. Distantly she heard a rushing sound. Water? she thought. More light streamed through the twisted remnants and plants. Discomfort filled her mouth, and she didn't know how to tell Mother, who kept walking towards the sound. Around a decayed something covered in vines and branches, was a stream. At least, she'd heard mother describe the stream before. Her legs ached, but a deeper instinct brought her to the water. Thirst. That's what it was. She looked up at her mother was increased respect, she knew Sage would be getting thirsty soon.

"See, young one, I know a thing or two about being young," she chuckled. 

Sage followed her directions more earnestly from then on, even when she found them ridiculous; Mother always had her reasons and that alone was worthy of respect. 

***

Sandstorm noticed Sage's efforts, even as she complained, and grumbled when she thought she couldn't hear. Every time it brought a good natured chuckle out of her. She'd think, no matter what, this one will survive, she's too stubborn to do anything else. Even through the complaints and gritted teeth, Sage did as she was asked. She grew stronger every day, and soon. she could keep up with a lope. One night Mother watched her as she slept. If only they could stay like this a little bit longer, she thought.

Distantly, the smell of ozone registered as she, too, fell asleep.

***

Banging. Fear. Smoke. Strange smells in the air. 

ThrraaaBOOM.

Sage hid underneath a ruin. The storm blowing had come out of nowhere and and she bolted for home, but when the winds came they tossed her around like a leaf. She couldn't hear mother, she couldn't smell her. So she hid in the first space that could fit her. She lay curled on the cold ground, whimpering as water dripped down and wind howled through every crack, taking with it any warmth she had. She shivered violently. Thunder boomed across the landscape, and was getting closer. She didn't know what that meant for her, and she curled up even tighter, pressing her body to a piece of rubble.

rrRRRaa ThraaBOOM.

She fell silent. That wasn't just thunder. Fear bit through her, colder than any wind. Booming footsteps. A roar. More fear.

Wait. She knew that roar. Her body was moving before she could finish thinking.

She bolted out into the bitter open, crying, "MOTHER!"

Mother ran towards her and shielded Sage with her body as she checked her over. Sage cried into her mother's side, shivering. 

"Mother, I'm scared," she said, voice breaking. 

Mother leaned down, great dark muzzle comforting her as she rumbled, "Let's go home, stay beside me, I'll block as much of the wind as I can."

They trekked back home. Fear left Sage's heart piece by piece, like shaking off mud with every step. The wind tried to toss her around like before, but Mother blocked the worst of it. Flashes of lightning followed by growling thunder disoriented her. Mother's steadfastness helped keep her from bolting in fear again. They turned towards the path leading to the nest, and off sure footing. Water streamed between her toes, and each step was a struggle from the sucking mud. Sage was so focused on keeping one foot after another, that she didn't notice when the wind was barely tugging at her. Only when mother nudged her did she realize they were home again. The nest lay before them, warm and dry.

More water streamed from the cover above, drenching her in a final cleansing shower as she approached the nest. Once she stepped into the nest she collapsed in exhaustion. Mother curled around her, a warm comforting presence. Flashes of light shone through the foliage, she curled up tighter into Mother's side.

Mother rumbled softly, "I'm sorry, I should've warned you about storms sooner."

Sage could barely mumble out, "scary, loud."

"Yes, very scary when it's your first, and the fear doesn't quite go away," said Mother.

This caught her attention and she shifted her head to look up and chirp in question.

"Yes, once you fully see how much damage one can do, the fear can take root in a deep part of you that you can't quite shake. And you shouldn't, Storms are a force of nature to respect, bringing life and death equally," Mother told her. 

Her rumbling voice was lulling Sage to sleep. Her voice was so soothing after everything today. Mother was telling her about important things, and as hard as she fought to listen, she couldn't help but drift off. Thunder rumbling merged with the soothing sound of Mother's voice.