A Moment Later (Otherwise Untitled)
#77 of Short Stories
A gryphon finds herself in a room with a pair of bullies, and recognizes the likely future.
~ The classroom was a dusty silence, as the sounds of the occupants breaking settled into place. It wouldn't be long until the loud crack and smoulderings' smoke summoned teachers and more. Harriet, pressing her back and wings into the corner she'd broken free to, regarded the dismay trapping her as the mixture of panic and fear drained.
~ Scattered in places about the floor were the chunks of feathers, bloody from being pulled out of her wings, more evenly placed than the hoveled pair of attackers who seemed pressed against the floor by unseen forces. She relented, their clothing and fur resuming some amount of fluff. Blood trickled down the wall, out of her sight.
~ Lashing out wildly with her magic had gotten them off of her back. The chalkboard was cracked, diagonally across its length, and two desks were charred from extinguished flames. Pressing out with her will had forced them away from her corner. The fox started to cough, shifting his weight up onto his hands.
~ Where panic mixed with terror drained from her, the cold reality of dread and realization readily obliged the vaccum. The ferret wasn't getting up. She could hear running, in the hallway.
~ The gryphon began to cry. The ferret wasn't breathing.