Leather-Winged Oddity

by Deyeaz

XIV - "It Feels Good To Ventilate"

“Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no no no no NO!”

I quickly delve into Damien’s backpack and rummage around for one of the first aid kits inside the seemingly-bottomless pack. When one nudges my paw, I pull it out, open the kit, and pull out both the bacteria-killing liquid, a thick absorbing pad, and a long bandage. I dump some liquid on the pad, apply it to his gaping stump of an arm, and hear the sizzle of bacteria being annihilated. Damien grits his teeth and grunts in pain, but it subsides seconds later. I almost apologize at his pain, but I remember that this is all necessary for it to work. At once, I wrap up his stump in the bandage, the pad still inside to absorb any blood.

That’ll hold... for now.

I sling the unconscious Devil Imp over my shoulders, my chest rapidly rising and falling with each hyperventilated breath of nervousness I take as I stand up, pick up Ellipsis in my mouth, and sprint to the town, my gigantic stride from my long legs giving me an extra boost. The wind from the air resistance stings my eyes and blows me back slightly as I gallop ferociously towards that town... what was it called again? Ah, Ponyville. That’s right.

“Hang in there, Damien,” I plead, my voice muffled by the cloths of the the scythe. “Just hang in there....”

Each minute wasted running, I can practically feel Damien dying slowly. I bite down harder on the haft of Ellipsis to prevent from tearing up and continue blazing through the fields of Equestria. Normally, I would’ve gotten there by now; however, with Damien’s weight slowing me down, that isn’t the case.

Minutes still crawl by, and my breathing starts to become ragged and labored from both lifting someone rather heavy and sprinting as fast as I can. But at last, at long last, I reach the town known as Ponyville.

Right when it gets swamped with early morning traffic.

But upon seeing me with an injured person, the thick crowd of equine citizens part for me, like I’m some sort of prophet splitting a sea in half.

I flash a small smile at them all before continuing my sprint down the roads. I have no idea where to turn, and my colorblind eyes are inept at making out discernible hues or palettes that would lead me in the right direction of a hospital.

“Someone!” I cry desperately as I spit Ellipsis out into my open palm. “Please help! I need to get this man to a hospital!”

“It’s down that road! Take the first right and you’ll get there!” A pony with wings informs me. I smile at her in thanks for the information and bolt down the street. At the first right I spot, I take it and continue going down the road until I reach a large building. The sunshade that it has installed would shield others from the harsh rays of the sun. The large cross on the building above the sunshade, as well as the small sign with the bottoms of four hearts pointing towards the corners of a cross, tells me at once that this is the right place.

Without hesitation, I bust through the door and run down the hall, calling for a doctor as loud as I can, completely disregarding the mare at the desk shouting, “WAIT! YOU NEED A SET UP AN APPOINTMENT!” at me.

As I dash down the labyrinth-like halls, still shouting my head off for medical attention, another pony sticks his head out: a unicorn with a parted mane in a white coat, his face contorted in frustration, then worry.

How do I know his coat’s white? Remember, Bast are blind to colors, not to shades, like white, black, and gray. Because that’s all we actually can see.

“What’s going on?!” The unicorn demands.

“Sir,” I wheeze, “this man *wheeze* needs medical attention. *Cough cough* Please *pant* help him!”

The pony puts a hoof to his chin and ponders on what to do. Really? He’s going to fucking decide on whether someone lives or dies? Is every single pony in Equestria that racist? It’s why I hate most doctors: they’re complete and total sadists. They like to play as a god and watch people suffer.

“Very well,” the doctor finally determines as he steps aside and allows us entry.

...Note to self: Shut the fuck up before I assume stuff.

“Th-thank you,” I say before walking into the room. I didn’t need to see colors to witness the pale, blinding whiteness of the room. I have to narrow my eyes very well to try and adjust to the sudden brightness I’m exposed to. The smell of sterilized items hits my nose and causes me to wrinkle it in disdain. The smell isn’t usually what I’m accustomed to. A window on the far side of the room lets in the precious sunlight that warms up the affected area of the black-and-white chessboard-styled tile floor. The right wall holds a hospital bed, flanked by a lamp-bearing desk on its left and an open concealing curtain on its right. The same goes for the bed on the left wall.

I quickly go inside and lay Damien gently on the bed on the left. He winces in pain, but the facial expression and feeling seem to fade when his face returns to its normal appearance. I sigh as the unicorn pulls a chair out from the sidelines with his magic and hands it over to me. I take it, position it under me, and take a seat next to Damien. “Will he be alright, doctor?”

“Well, of course he’ll make it... but I’m afraid he won’t be able to reattach a replacement for that forele- er, arm,” the doctor confesses as he hooks Damien to a machine that seems to beep at the same rate of his heart beat. “However, that doesn’t mean we can’t help him. We can give him a prosthetic, which should get here tomorrow if I order it today... and if Derpy doesn’t mess up the delivery again....”

“That’s... nice...” I trail off. This “Derpy” sounds like a troublemaker, yet a lovable kind of pony. “Erm... Doctor, is it okay if I can have a minute alone?”

“Certainly, madam...” he says before he exits the room. I look back at Damien and smile sadly. I feel my cheeks burn slightly when my eyes trace his face. I care not for what others would bad-mouth about his scars: I think they make him look even more attractive, in a dangerous sense.

“Damien... I honestly hope you get better. I’m so glad I got you here in time.” I also don’t care that my words fall on deaf ears: it feels good to ventilate, even if no one could hear you. “If... if you had di- uh... gone, I would’ve had to go back to the village, and this incredible adventure would’ve come to an end....

“Also... there’s something I have to tell you... something of the utmost importance.” I swallow with difficulty, as if something is clogging my throat. I take a deep breath, and wring my paws. “I... I...”

Damn it, ‘Leena, say it! Just say it and get it over with, already!

“I... like you. Like... really, really like you.” It’s as if there was once an iron weight in my chest, and now that I finally said that, I can practically feel the weight leaving me. In terms of emotions, I feel so much lighter than I did before. “It’s just that... you’re kind, sweet, funny, and you’re always willing to help others with their problems... and protect them from harm. You saved my village from those Diamond Dogs, you helped Khajiit, Ren, and Faultless out of jail... and you saved me from that worm... and you never even asked for any rewards, either... I can never thank you enough for all that you’ve done....”

I grasp his limp hand and smile, his low, quiet breathing being the only response to the truth I’ve expelled onto him. I stand up, my paw still in his hand, and bend over to face him. My heart is frantically racing in my chest, and my face has never felt so flushed before, despite all of the fur that conceals it. I swallow once more, my throat still feeling like sandpaper. I close my eyes and plant a kiss on his cheek. The feel of soft flesh on my lips feels foreign, yet... nice. I savor every second of it. My lips finally leave his face after several seconds of just standing there and showing him as much love as I could in his current state. I turn around and head for the door, my paw now vacant of his frail grip.

“You’ll get better soon, Damien. I promise.” I open the door and leave the room. The doctor is still standing there, glad to see that he no longer has to wait for me to finish up.

“I seem to notice that the attempts to decontaminate and seal up the wound aren’t successful,” he says. I grimace: he didn’t have to rush to save anyone’s life, now did he? “I just hope that I can repair the damage done to it and fix the wound before the prosthetic gets here tomorrow.”

“Interesting... so what do I do until then?”

“Whatever you want to do. However... don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Fair enough.” I quickly go back inside and grab Damien’s backpack from off the floor next to the bed he occupies and leave the room again. As I sit on the chair outside the room, I look at the backpack. Surely, he has something to entertain someone, right?

I open the zipper and rummage through it, my paw practically sinking into the seemingly-bottomless inside of the bag. Where is that little glass glowing rectangle he has...?

Almost at once, the aforementioned item gets nudged by my paw, almost as if the bag knew what I was looking for and helped me out in finding it. I pull out the rectangle and look at it. It has a white face and silver back, with a little circle at what I suspect is the bottom of the shape’s front. Most of it was an opaque black, however. I run a digit over the circle on the face and apply a bit of pressure. Immediately, most of the glass surface glows a bright light. I jump ever-so-slightly as I see the glass display a small little arrow on a box pointing to the right, with words I can’t translate inside the slide that the arrow-bearing box rests in. I touch the box curiously, and the box seems to fidget slight at my touch. I let out a small yelp: how can glass respond to touch?

Regardless, I look at the arrow, then at my digit. After making the connection, I slide the box to the right, and I hear an unlocking sound. I blink in confusion as another screen appears: Nine dots, in three rows and columns. I touch a random dot, which is surrounded by a gray color at my touch. I don’t yelp or jump this time, but instead, I touch another dot. Same response. I slide one digit between two dots, and a thin line comes in between the two dots I just touched. When my digit left the second dot, the line glows a different, darker shade of gray, and disappears.

OK... so I have to connect the dots in the right order.

I pull a deadpanned look as I make a zigzag pattern on the nine dots, the top three to the right, then going diagonally to the left and down to hit the middle dot and the bottom left dot, then right again on the bottom three dots.

Not only do these lines of light gray not darken, but another sound of something unlocking ensues, and I am brought to a screen with about twenty rounded-square icons.

Predictable Damien....

Rolling my eyes at how easy that was, I press an icon that holds a music note, and out pops a list of what I think is names of the singers. I’ve never even heard of these guys, let alone can read their names. Maybe they’re all just part of that otherworldly music of Damien’s.

I move my thumb digit up on the screen, and the list of names scrolls up rapidly. I thumb a random name and it blinks a plain, typical gray for a second. It might’ve been a different color to someone else, but to me, every single color is rendered monochromatic. Another pops up. I hit a random name with my thumb once more

Another final screen appears, with two sliders at the bottom and top. On the bottom is a set of two bars laid out vertically, with two conjoined arrows pointing in different directions flanking the two bars. A picture rests in the middle of the screen, depicting a gecko clinging onto the stem of a leaf. In the background is the white moon, which is partially blocked out by the leaves and branches of an exotic-looking tree.

But accompanying the picture is the sound of a kicking beat and an ambient tune flowing freely from the machine.

I squeak at the sudden introduction of the music. A Pegasus mare next to me shushes me for being too loud with the music. So I rummage through the pack for something that’ll make me and only me hear the music. I pull out a long white cord that seems to split in half. One end has a metal pin, while the two ends have rubber buds at the ends. Hurriedly, I put the buds in my ears and stick the metal pin in a narrow hole on the bottom of the rectangle. Soon, I hear a man’s voice ring out with the music into my ears and my ears alone. The voice is so catchy, I actually start mouthing the words.

“Sharp like an edge of a samurai sword
The mental blade cut through flesh and bone
Though my mind's at peace, the world out of order
Missing the inner heat, life gets colder
Oh yes, I have to find my path
No less, walk on earth, water, and fire
The elements compose a magnum opus
My modus is operandi is amalgam
Steel packed tight in microchip
On my arm a sign of all-pro
The ultimate reward is honor, not awards
At odds with the times in wars with no lords

A freelancer,
A battle cry of a hawk make a dove fly and a tear dry
Wonder why a lone wolf don't run with a klan
Only trust your instincts and be one with the plan

Some days, some nights
Some live, some die
In the way of the samurai
Some fight, some bleed
Sunup to sundown
The sons of a battlecry

Some days, some nights
Some live, some die
In the name of the samurai
Some fight, some bleed
Sunup to sundown
The sons of a battlecry...
A battlecry...."

There is but a blank ambiance and kicking beat still, the lyrics pausing for a moment. They start up again several seconds later.

"Look, just the air around him
An aura surrounding the heir apparent
He might be a peasant but shine like grand royalty
He to the people and land, loyalty
We witness above all to hear this,
Sea sickness in the ocean of wickedness
Set sail to the sun set no second guessing

Far east style with the spirit of wild west
The "quote-unquote" code stands the test of
Time for the chosen ones to find the best of
Noble minds that ever graced the face of
A hemisphere with no fear, fly over

The blue yonder where
The sky meets the sea
And eye meets to eye
And boy meets world
And became a man to serve the world
To save the day, the night, and the girl too

Some days, some nights
Some live, some die
In the way of the samurai
Some fight, some bleed
Sunup to sundown
The sons of a battlecry

Some days, some nights
Some live, some die
In the name of the samurai
Some fight, some bleed
Sunup to sundown
The sons of a battlecry...
A battlecry....”

The lyrics have ended, yet there is a few seconds of ambiance, like before. Those few seconds end, and the song makes its conclusion.

Suddenly, another song with kicking beat commences, but the ambiance and the light piano key-tickling that replace the beat make the song sound more... soothing. Smoother, maybe.

Despite the hardness and awkward feel of this chair, it now feels... inviting. Comfortable. I can feel my eyelids getting heavy. I jerk awake every time this happens, but with each time, it grows stronger and stronger. I can tell right away that I need to sleep. After all, not only did I fight a massive acid-spitting worm. I hauled one-hundred-sixty-pound man whilst running as fast as possible. Without warning, I turn my body so that I take up four chairs instead of one. I lay down and close my eyes, my brain now ready to turn off for the moment.

And the dream that visits me in my deep sleep... is the most wonderful thing in the world....