a perilous expedition

Angus threaded the needle through the fabric of his pants, tired eyes cast upon the small tear in them. His hands shook gently from the cold that enveloped him. His stitches turned out jagged and uneven, but it did the job, and the small rip was slowly repaired.

The planet he was on now was much different from Latorre, which was always good for him, because he tended to prefer the worlds that were different. But this one wasn't turning out so great.

It was cold and desolate. No signs of any life, at least that Angus had seen, it was a red and orange sanded desert that kept him frozen from horn to hoof. Swirling sandy ice storms would sometimes take over in the blink of an eye, so Angus was currently sheltering in a small cave. Or, what he had assumed was a small cave.

It was noticeably warmer in the cave. Not just from the shelter that was provided by it, but there was a steady pulse of warmth that continued to circulate within the confines of the cavern. Angus considered it a welcome change to the freezing cold.

He leaned down and bit the thread once he'd finished his stitching, tearing it with his teeth, carefully shoving his needle back into his small pin cushion and putting it into a small pouch on his knapsack. He plunged a hand into his bag to retrieve some crumpled envelopes packed with thick stacks of filled pages.

Since he had nothing better to do, and he didn't have any paper left to write, he began to read through old letters he'd written. Most of them were written to one person. But they were never meant to be read by him.

The letters consisted mostly of things that he'd always wanted to say but never had the courage to. A lot of apologies and tender confessions. A lot of reminiscing and pleasant memories. Angus sighed, the tiniest smile almost creeping onto his face as one of the letters reminded him of a particularly joyous evening.

But it vanished without a trace in a single instant. Angus felt the ground beneath him move. It shifted, almost. He hastily stuffed the letters back into his bag and stood up, looking to the roof of the cavern to see if it was showing signs of collapsing. Instead, he saw the flash of red stone stalactites pierce through the ceiling. Angus blinked and looked down as the floor shifted again. Realization struck him violently.

This wasn't a cave, however much it blended into the scenery of this planet, but some kind of creature. Angus urgently grabbed his knapsack and went to make a dash for the mouth of the cave, but it was suddenly snapped shut. Angus watched most of the light disappear as soon as the uneven stalactites and stalagmites that lined the entrance fell into each other.

Then, he could feel himself sliding downward, as if the entire cavern, or creature, was moving to face the sky. And swallow Angus.

He stumbled in the dark, but reached for his side pouch in a hurry, yanking out a knife and plunging it into the cavernous, rocky walls - their hardness melting into soft flesh as he did so. He heard a haunting cry echoing from below.

Angus held on for his life, his tails curled around his leg. Now would be a time for him to blink back to Latorre, and he was indeed fighting his instinctual urge not to, but his bag had snagged on one of the red stalactites that were formerly above him and now across from him, and it appeared dangerously close to plummeting into the dark pit below.

If it was just his supplies, he wouldn't care and would have been long gone by now, but he knew his letters and keepsakes were at risk.

From below him, Angus heard sizzling. With the tiny slivers of light provided, he could see green, bubbling acid sitting at the bottom of the pit, or perhaps the esophagus, of the creature. Some of the acid bubbles were spitting up towards him. Angus couldn't let go of his knife that he hung from, nor could he reach with his leg.

"Dammit," he cursed to himself, feeling his grip on the knife slipping. He knew what he had to do, however much he wasn't looking forward to it.

He unwrapped his tails from his leg, intertwining them with each other as he reached them across in desperation. His leaf tail wasn't long enough, still in the process of regrowing from another blunder, but his flower tail was able to just tuck under the top handle loop of his bag.

Hot acid shot up from below in a burst, sizzling against the flower of Angus' tail, causing him to shout a string of curses before blinking away as soon as he pulled his bag off the stalactite.

Angus, despite having plenty of practice, ended up blinking back in the middle of nowhere, halfway rolling down a hill before he managed to push his hooves into the ground to stop himself.

He laid there for a moment, now covered in grass and dirt stains. He annoyedly stared up at the sky before glancing down to his tails to find that they were okay, even if his marigold now had some unfortunate holes in it, along with his bag. The sting of the acid lingered, but his Eye was still intact. It would heal eventually.

He closed his eyes with a huff. Another perilous adventure in the books.