Early life/??
Could you remember your own birth? Of course not. Rarely can a being remember its creation, save for occasional fleeting memories and sensations that you may recall if you close your eyes and dwell on it.
These sensations?
Soft. Warm. Weathered with age, holding me close, the faint feeling of something ticklish skirting my skin. Feathers. I would pull on one and be scolded immediately, though I would never get into much trouble more than time outs. Master did not like his feathers being pulled, even though I- as a small child- adored to pull.
Shiny and soft, they were. I wish I had kept some with me. I could possibly construct my own wings with how many of those soft feathers I playfully pulled from my Master. It’s appalling now, how he would put up with me for so long. Even Asmos eventually got tired of my antics. She would banish me from the kitchen for long periods of time after I had scared her one too many times from the cabinet.
What? You don’t believe I could be a mischievous child? Time ages us. It matures and changes one’s body and soul. Now, where was I? Ah, yes.
Asmos led me through many of my teenage years. It seemed to be just the two of us, though my Master’s friends were still in a tangible realm. The remnants of his lover stayed with me for as long as he could.
Ahh… I admit, I do somewhat miss those days. When I could get up to as much trouble as you seem to. My Master would always protect me, no matter what ha I put myself in. If only I had saved those feathers.
I would do anything to feel them again.
