9.27

Prompt: Use 3 colors.

"We can't do this," Benedict whispered, wincing as the crackling fae magic at dusk, and the whisper of fur from his own curse, prickled along his skin. Fairy time was the most dangerous and beautiful, the sky painted with broad strokes of light crystal blues that faded to lavender, bruised purples, and dark cerulean. The colors of the sky reflected the magic that fizzled throughout the land as the fae walked through the boundary of their hidden realm.

Penelope ruffled her black wings beside him, their cobalt sheen glinting in the fading light. Benedict desperately wished his magic had been more connected with animal communication at this moment. He thought she would agree with him, but he couldn't be sure until she was human again, and by then he couldn't talk back.

Not to mention, the strange periods where he remembered nothing at all. He was afraid that the curse was advancing in some way, making him more of a canine mind when he transformed than a human one. Penelope combed her beak quickly through thick hair at his temple before hopping off his shoulder to the ground. She was twitching in that way she did when she felt the beginnings of the change, and Benedict could not help the feral growl his throat emitted when as he felt the painful start press of unsought magic wanting to crack his bones.

He quickly dropped to his knees and placed the sleeping babe, swaddled in a cloth of cream colored cotton, on the grass under the ash tree. A color of innocence, to indicate to the fairies and the healing tree that the child deserved to be saved. He got one last look at the boy, his sickly pallor and curly brown hair, trying to commit the face to memory, before he scuttled backwards to transform safely away from the tiny bundle. Benedict could only hope he would keep his mind as he finally tasted blood at the back of his throat and began to howl as his bone snapped and reformed. All he heard for moments afterwards were the babe's cries and Penelope's caw turning into a scream.