A Thorn in my Side

Paltar's heart raced like never before. His vision blurred as he ran past the thorny vines, and while he didn't feel the pain of their scratching, he saw his torn sleeves and bloody skin out of the corner of his eye. But his eyes were focused on the thorns above—trying to find a vine thick enough to support his weight, and thorns deadly enough to pin the griffin down. Behind him he heard Nanna.

"Hey! Fat bird! I'm here!"

She tried to sound confident and mocking, but he could hear the slight tremble in her voice. Desperately, he wanted to look for her, but he knew he couldn't. He could only help her by following his plan. Behind him, he heard the griffin's screech and Nanna's triumphant laugh.

"Catch me if you can!"

He had to hurry. Paltar was sure that Nanna was doing a good job, but still, she shouldn't be in more danger than absolutely necessary. Gritting his teeth, he sprinted forward, away from Nanna and the griffin. ‘She's got it’, he thought. ‘Now I have to do my part!’

Through his blurred vision, he finally spotted a place where the vines were strong and old. The trunk was almost as thick as he was, and the thorns sprouting from it were longer than his arm and sharper than his needles. For a moment, he ran his hand across the vine, testing its stability. This was perfect.

Behind him, he could hear Nanna and the griffin in a wild chase. This was his only chance: he didn’t have the time to look for a better place. Now he only needed to find a good place to set up the griffin.

‘I can do this,’ he thought.

With conviction, he grabbed the first thorn and put his foot on the vine. It was strong enough for him to climb, and slowly, he made his way up. Here he could see the world around them, as Nanna must have seen it when she explored it. And yet, here was nothing of note to see. Above him, the sky was an uncaring blue, and on the sand-colored, cracked ground, only the vines grew, permeating everything. It was a hopeless sight. He wanted to leave it behind as soon as possible. And that's why they had to fight this griffin.

This was the perfect place to do so. Paltar looked to his sides and chose between the protruding thorns. He had to make it look believable. The griffin could probably still sense that something was up. Carefully he positioned himself in front of the long, thin thorn he had chosen. There was hardly any ground for his feet to stand on, but it had to be done. The other thorns were growing in a direction that simply would not work. And if he fell... no, if this didn't work, they had much bigger problems to worry about. And those were things he certainly didn't want to think about right now.

He spotted the two birds, still in pursuit.

"Hey!"

He called out as loud as he could, even though his heart was pounding. As if on cue, he saw Nanna dive deeper into the thorny underbush, shouting one last insult at the griffin.

"Don't you want to fight me?" Paltar yelled.

'This is stupid,' he thought in a rush of panic. 'There's no way it's going to fall for that.’

"Whaaaaaaat did you say, meatbag?"

With surprising elegance, the griffin turned in midair and flew directly toward Paltar.

It worked! It really worked!

Now he just had to make sure not to die.

The first thing he saw were the giant wings of the griffin, spread wide in the air. The monster knew that Paltar could not get away from it. Still, he raised his fists in a display of half-hearted fighting spirit. Paltar knew he wasn't a fighter. But the griffin didn't know that, and that was the only thing they could try to work with.

‘I just have to wait,’ he told himself. Dodge at the last possible moment.

If he got out of the way too soon, the bird might still be able to evade. He couldn't let that happen. This was their only chance. Their only...

"You're dead meeeeaaaat!" the griffin screamed with glee.

It was too late. The bird was too close, and Paltar felt his feet slip. He had to...

Just as the talons grabbed his shoulders, he felt a sharp pain in his side.

"Got you," he panted.

It hurt. It hurt so much that Paltar wanted to cry, but no tears came. Instead, he shivered and looked up at the bird as it let out a shattering scream. A circle of red spread across its sandy brown chest. The thorn had only grazed Paltar, but thanks to the force with which the bird had attacked him, it had pierced its chest.

Paltar could only stare and shake as the grip on his shoulders slowly loosened. But the pain didn't stop. He winced, and let out a small hiss.

"Paltar!"

As soon as he heard Nanna call out for him, he stopped, and instead, showed a pained smile

 
"We made it," he managed to answer.

He watched as she approached him, not even checking if the griffin was really incapacitated or not.

"Paltar! What did you do?"

"Huh?" He smiled at her. "Nothing. Look, we did it."

He reached out for a high five, but he couldn't lift his arm high enough.

"Oh."

"You're hurt," Nanna said.

"Not as bad as you," he replied.

He could see that she herself had been injured when the griffin had chased her. Slowly he managed to free himself from the griffin’s grip, wincing all the while. Even when he was free, the pain didn’t stop. He coughed, and blinked. Nanna looked at him, and her expression grew even more worried. He had to think of something to distract her. And then he could rest. 

"Did you see a way out?" he asked.

"No."

Of course not. That would be too easy, right? 

Above them, the sun continued to beat down on them, and his sweat mixed with tears he desperately tried to hide.