Moonspear prey to none

The world turned on its head — and on Kindle's. He felt as though the sky had come down and landed on his head, but what he was really feeling was the back of his skull knocking into the frozen earth. But neither hard surface seemed to give; there was no blood and no sickening crack. Just a painful thump that was drowned out entirely by a triple round of banshee screams.

Kindle rolled away from Treepie, wanting to get his paws away from her before he stood. His apology, too, was likely drowned by pain and screeching. Figuring Kira could deal with a bird well enough, he stumbled to Treepie's side instead.

"Damn — maybe get 'em in the snow?" he suggested, wincing in deepest empathy. His dead twisted toward Kira, who was fighting her own battle. He realized he could not remember how any of this had come about. Just that he'd thought to go and find Treepie, and now here she was.

"I hope," he said, calling out to Kira, but we would never find out how the sentence would have ended. As soon as he opened his mouth, his nausea overtook him, and the word "hope" came out with a gurgle and most of his breakfast, which soon lay steaming on the snow next to Treepie's face.

He swayed were he stood, gazing down at the pile of sick and his girlfriend's pretty face with horror and confusion.