Pigeon Witches

Chapter 2 -- Sunshine and Spice

Spices heavied the air, sweet and tangy, soaking into Kageyama’s fur as his eyes peeled open.

Giants stood around him, holding salts and sugars, and Kageyama would have been afraid, but the Giants had friendly faces and warm eyes like firelight. A smaller giant stood directly in front of him, and he had to crane his neck to catch a glimpse of his face.

It was like sunshine, hair warm as the summer sun, and smile bright as a star. He stood, hands cupping some kind of liquid over a basin. It looked like milk.

Kageyama’s head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool, and he stretched out his spine, pawing at the material he was lying on. Was that... cotton? Everything looked muted, but his nose was sharper, and he could smell pine and wood smoke, earth and sandalwood.

He moved slickly, on automatic. He moved towards the smaller giant, whose face lit up with excitement. Perhaps he was a fae. You gave the fae what they wanted; you did not take what they offered.

But the boy was offering milk. It smelt fresh, and clean, and his throat was dry, his tongue sandpapery.

Kageyama stopped in front of him, eyes slits. His head felt congested, and trying to think something through felt forced, like he was dragging the train of thought through a snowdrift.

The boy offered milk, droplets landing on the table. The boy wanted him to drink. He offered.

Kageyama was torn, his ears twitching.

You gave them what they wanted.

He nosed forwards, the spices and incense fogging his brain. He bent his head over the boys’ hands, hands large enough to cup his head completely, and then some.

He drank deeply.

--

The ground was hard, and the wind blew straight through the trees, rattling the goat’s shed like a skeleton’s old bones. It was a bitter wind, searing the insides of his nose with every breath he took.