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Aurin holds his mother's hand as she leads him from the street to his aunt and uncle's house. He's been here only a couple of times, and can't remember most of them distinctly; they're sort of awkwardly related, his dead father's half-brother and the wife thereof. But now they have a baby parunia, and that means there is a dragon related to Aurin who is not too far from his age, only thirty-one years younger. This is apparently the sort of relation that it will be particularly enriching for Aurin to meet. They can do this now instead of waiting a month, because parunias don't die when they're babies; this one is safe, unlike the miscellaneous cousins on his mother's side he's never met because they are all in too much danger to get attached to (and have all succumbed to that danger). So here they are. Even though it was a very long flight and he couldn't ride his mother for takeoff and landing when she had to be a heron, only for the middle part.
Alys knocks on the door.
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"It's not my fault."
"I know," sighs Mial. "I'm sorry I yelled at you about it."
Aurin lets go of his mother's pant leg and sits back down on the floor, pouting slightly.
Mial climbs down from Koridaar's arms and goes over to him. "Hug?" he offers. "I'm really sorry."
Grumble.
Hug.
Hug.
Hug hug hug.
Pet pet. Soft little dragon scales.
"Teeny," says Aurin.
"Teeny," says Aurin.
Mial makes a face.
It is a teeny face. Because he has a teeny head.
It is a teeny face. Because he has a teeny head.
"Teeny and tiny," giggles Aurin. Hug.
"Bah."
Hug.
Hug.
Years go by. Finnah's flopsome friendly disposition is eroded by the failure of her drugs to keep up with esu; Mial's situation follows, modulo his different initial reaction. Reports roll in that some of the recipients of this drug find that forms they shift into are also smaller than they ought to be, by a little bit.
Finnah's cardinal, when she learns to turn into it, seems about normal-sized. She flies. She flies and flies and flies and flies and flies. She goes and visits Mial and demonstrates this ability to him. She turns into a little toddler who looks just like her mommy so she'll have hands to try to haul him out of wherever he's moping and get him to try, he should be able to do it any minute now, try try try.
Mial does do an awful lot of moping.
He has a bird form picked out. He is going to be a merlin.
When Finnah hauls him out and demands it, or one of his parents manages to coax him, or he is otherwise convinced to temporarily abandon his habit of curling up in dark corners weeping with pain, he try try tries.
And two weeks after Finnah, it works. Merlins are small; he's downright teeny. But he's a bird and he can fly and he can also, incidentally, fit through the half-open kitchen window no problem.
He has a bird form picked out. He is going to be a merlin.
When Finnah hauls him out and demands it, or one of his parents manages to coax him, or he is otherwise convinced to temporarily abandon his habit of curling up in dark corners weeping with pain, he try try tries.
And two weeks after Finnah, it works. Merlins are small; he's downright teeny. But he's a bird and he can fly and he can also, incidentally, fit through the half-open kitchen window no problem.
Finnah chases him! Whee!
He circles the house, and then heads for the edge of the property, cackling at the top of his teeny lungs.
"ISN'T FLYING AWESOME," hollers Finnah. "IT'S SO AWESOME."
"IT'S THE BEST," yells Mial. Zoom!
greatcomposure
Mial's mother gazes after him, estimates his trajectory, and teleports some distance in front of him.
"Congratulations," she calls.
"Congratulations," she calls.
"Wheeeeeeee!"
His mother's clever plan works out just as intended: he swoops into her arms to deliver teeny tiny feathery snuggles.
His mother's clever plan works out just as intended: he swoops into her arms to deliver teeny tiny feathery snuggles.
Finnah lands on her head.
"We can fly!" she exclaims. "We can fly we can fly we can both fly now!"
"We can fly!" she exclaims. "We can fly we can fly we can both fly now!"
greatcomposure
"Yes you can," says Koridaar, snuggling her teeny tiny feathery son. "Have fun. Try to stay near the house, please, so you don't get lost."
"Okay," says Mial, and he's up and zooming back to the house immediately.
"Okay," says Mial, and he's up and zooming back to the house immediately.
Finnah follows him.
Zoooooooooooooom!
Even on a pretty intense dose of the growth-stunting painkiller that makes him so bouncy, though, Mial's reserves of energy are not quite infinite. He comes back in the kitchen window and flops birdfully onto the counter.
Even on a pretty intense dose of the growth-stunting painkiller that makes him so bouncy, though, Mial's reserves of energy are not quite infinite. He comes back in the kitchen window and flops birdfully onto the counter.
Finnah lands next to him.
"You should learn your thing with hands, next," she advises.
"You should learn your thing with hands, next," she advises.
"'m gonna be a human."
Like so!
...A teeny human!
Like so!
...A teeny human!
Finnah turns into a human too.
She peers at his ears. "You're short for a human."
She peers at his ears. "You're short for a human."