The Most Human Color II

"The Most Human Color II" is an Extended Universe oneshot written on [IRL DATE].
== Summary ==
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== Full Text ==
Milae’s stomach turned and he hurled blood and bile across the grass for the third time, falling to his knees and gasping for air. The putrid smell of burning buildings and scorched land made him choke and he looked over his shoulder at the blinding firelight ravaging his home.
He had to keep going.
The smell of smoke followed him for the next few hours, it clung to his clothes and his fur and he absolutely loathed it. He was trying to suppress the images from his mind as best as he could. The land was freezing, and he could hear dragons crying in the distance, ready to descend on him should he let up his frantic, stumbling pace anytime soon. His head hurt. His throat was so dry; he could taste blood with every swallow.
“Duri!?”
Squinting up at the sky, he saw that the sign he was following was still there–a straight line of clouds, arcing across the sky, pointing away from his home. He had nothing else. Nowhere else to go. He might as well continue following.
***
It had been two days.
His aching belly drove him to consuming whatever plant life he could recognize, and while it temporarily filled him, it only increased the ache in his gut. It was almost impossible to start a fire every night, as the land was damp and the brush refused to do more than smoke. And the smoke reminded him of where he had come from, and he would run away, every time.
While he ran, he looked for someone. He looked for a trader, or his mum, or Duri, or someone from the village. He saw nothing but birds that wheeled overhead and rabbits too fast for him to catch. He cried of loneliness the first night. He did not cry again, for after doing so, he became terribly thirsty to the point of his mouth drying and cracking.
Now he was dizzy and barely able to walk, and exhausted. The night grew slowly more black as he left the light hours of dusk behind, and he was stumbling blind through the brush. His lower legs were caked in dried blood from various cuts and scrapes and bruises. The little goat was shivering uncontrollably as he craned his neck to the fog-covered sky, unable to see his guiding sign any longer. He fell to his knees as he heaved again, but his gut had nothing more to give and he coughed instead, unable to keep himself upright any longer. He fell to his elbows, and then collapsed to the ground. He could hear something in the distance, the sounds of grass hissing as it was swept aside, the distant bark of dogs.
The last thing Milae saw through the dark shadowy brush was the distant lights of moving torches. Then everything went black.
***
He was warm. Warmer than he had been in days. The realization almost shocked him awake, but the underlying aches and dullness he felt kept him laying down, eyes squinted shut. He caught the scent of food and suddenly realized how hungry he was. Milae bolted upright and groaned as his head throbbed. The lower half of his legs were bandaged well.
“Oh my stars!”
He was in a cot, and beside him, a chubby man wearing a thick set of robes jumped in his chair, clutching his heart, as though Milae were a frightful beast that had leapt at him out of a bush. He lowered a dusty pair of spectacles and peered at him. His hair was cropped incredibly short, but he had a bushy beard. They appeared to be in some sort of canvas tent. Milae stared wildly at him for a heartbeat, and then his hooves scrambled as he tried to bolt from the bed.
The man yelped again as the half-breed tangled in the sheet and hit the dirt floor hard, crying out as his whole body protested. He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders and he kicked his legs, panicking. “Get off! Get off!”
“Hold your horses, little man! My goodness.” The stranger helped him stand and Milae stumbled back to sit on the cot, his head spinning. “Here.” Something was pushed into his hands, wrapped in linen, and he looked down to see a few pieces of thick bread in his hooves. Before he could stop himself, he was already tearing into the food, gulping it down.
“Slowly!” the man said in alarm, and Milae looked up at him, his goat eyes still wary and full of fear.
“Who’re you?” he said through a mouthful of crumbs. “D’you know where m’mum is?”
He clasped his fingers in front of his big belly, looking at Milae worriedly. “I’m sorry, my boy, I haven’t a clue. You were out on your lonesome. It was a miracle we even picked you up.”
We?
Milae looked around, seeing more cots just like his surrounding him in two long rows. They were indeed in a tent, a long one. In between the rows of beds, there were a few fireplaces with pots hanging over them, and small holes in the tent above let the smoke release through the ceiling. The smell made him queasy.
The cots were mostly empty besides a few other people–half-breeds, Milae realized, like himself. There was a heavily-built boy around his age, with a thick, wiry mane and a striped face and the tips of tusks pointing out of his mouth, and a tiny girl with huge, furry ears and a ringed, fluffy tail hanging off the end of her bed. There were a few others, but they wore heavy clothing and had their backs turned at the very end of the tent. He didn’t see Duri.
Milae finished off his bread and looked back at the man, who was peering at him anxiously. “You’ve had quite the ordeal, I should think,” he said. “You should get some rest, absolutely, yes, and then we can take care of you in the morning.”
Not sure what else to do, the little boy nodded and pulled his legs back into bed. He was exhausted, but he wasn’t sure he was sleepy. He laid his long neck back down and curled up underneath the sheet, his round green eyes looking blankly at the wall in front of him. The firelight went out, leaving the tent shadowed in a dark blue light. And he stayed that way, frozen and staring, until the sun came up.
What do I do now?
Category:Events
Category:Yun Milae
Category:Pre-Season