The Winds of Asharra
by R. Leigh
Publisher: Outskirts Press
It was a spectacular cross-over from ya to yi, as the twin suns parted company, creating a breathtaking twilight, on a world where it never became completely dark. The clear sky, now a softer shade of violet, was only dotted with a few wisps of light blue clouds as the naked winged pair lazily glided home to their own crystalline osharra. While aloft, they embraced and kissed, even joyfully managing a spin and a tight loop without breaking contact. His large blue wings covered her smaller red ones as he playfully introduced his tongue into her mouth. It was an Earth custom which she was grateful to have learned and one which she would never forget. He touched one of her tiny silver horns for luck, a gesture that had become a habit, as he slyly patted her on the globes of her tezz before releasing his mate from his embrace and landing on the familiar red soil of Asharra. They had been through so much together and encountered so many fine creatures, many of whom were formally declared as friends by way of the Doings.
For her part, she was relieved at the completion of the most recent events, even with the surprising consequences which she could never have imagined. Images of the beings they had encountered along the way darted across her greater mind as she snuggled into the pile of multi-colored looshie cushions inside the sleeping chamber. She was grateful for the experience of knowing the intelligent plants and the brash blue two-legged bull, to say nothing of the dreegins and the dragons. The sudden appearance of Paraaz, the great emerald colored gerh, a feline with more pride than poise, also reminded her to add him to the list. The winged beast, if he could have read her mind, would have been satisfied at the addition. She was as content as a friznaggle who had just gobbled up a batch of zim.
Her mate flexed his body in preparation for sleep, eager to cuddle up to her and enjoy the closeness of her warmth and scent. He absentmindedly touched the red crystalline pendant which he wore around his neck, part of a matched set, and indicative of all that they had recently experienced. His sense of purpose and identity had been clarified and fulfilled. His Kokayniah was true and he was firmly on the path, despite a few accidental diversions along the way.
“Tell me a story, my mate, “ she cooed to him, playfully rubbing her body against him.
“And which one might that be.” he joked, clearly knowing the anticipated reply.
“Silly dox, “ she giggled, “there is only one worth telling.”
“Where shall I begin?” he whispered, beginning to caress her body with more urgency.
“At the beginning of course…” she sighed, “and don’t skip over my favorite parts..”