Chapter 8: New Wings
The exclamation was enough to wake Darlae, who immediately jumped up and brandished her shovel, looking for trouble until her eyes fully opened. Once she was sure they were safe, she took a long snort of air and then spat off to the side. "Gods above, Kir, you scared the snot out of me."
"Pretty sure you just spat that out yourself..." Kir noted. Compared to fantasy elves, Darlae was pretty much human. Given elves and humans both lived for about one hundred years in this world, it made more sense to simply think of them as a branch of the human species. Elves were simply more likely to reach their hundreds than regular humans.
"Woah..." Darlae said as she saw Kir. "You, uh, lost your baby fat," she said, leaning on the shovel and gesturing around her torso.
"Yeah, um... I think maybe growing wings took a lot of energy..." Kir said shyly, tightening his belt so his pants wouldn't fall down as much, "And as I taught you, fat is how bodies store energy..."
Darlae laughed hard enough to wake Brigit. "Gods, Kir, not every miracle needs an explanation!"
Brigit sat up and started wiping the drool from her face. She looked over at Kir and then gasped.
Kir blushed uncomfortably. "It's not a miracle... it's science..." A miracle was just science he didn't understand, but still... His wings came in a bit as he felt embarrassed, shifting his weight. That would take some getting used to.
"Regardless, we're happy for you," Darlae said, walking over to Brigit and helping her up.
"What are we happy for?" Brigit asked as she rubbed her eyes. When she saw Kir she had a similar reaction to Darlae.
Kir immediately focused on the brand that marked the back of her hand. He took a step forward and immediately had to stop himself from falling as his wings unbalanced him. His tail did most of the work compensating for it, however, and he was able to take the few steps it took for him to take his moms' hands and look at them.
"I'm sorry I..." He started to say.