"Hey, it's you!"

The phoenix's eyes flashed down, catching on soft golden down. She blinked curiously, craning her long neck to get a better look at the little beast. She had never seen such a creature before; woolies were almost uniformly white – occasionally you'd run across one shaggy enough to be dubbed brown or gray, but never gold. But there he sat, gilded fleece shining bright in the midday sun. And It had such kind, bright blue eyes... He almost reminded her of a certain farmer she'd come to know over the passing seasons.

The phoenix warmed affectionately, sky colored eyes smiling where her hooked, white beak could not.

The wooly's features brightened happily, his paws waving around in gesture as he spoke in cheerful brays. "I'm glad I got a chance to see you again. I never got to thank you for saving me the other day." His expression softened, one silky brown paw pressed firmly to his chest as the other moved to keep what looked like the top of an acorn from sliding off his head as he bowed.

"Really, I could never say it enough. If there's anything I could ever do for you...?" He lifted his head quietly, gaze earnest.

The fire bird only stared, head tilted, confusion flickering behind her skylit eyes. Feathers bristled once, then flattened. She had never seen this creature before, she was sure; she wouldn't have possibly forgotten such a unique encounter.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "Whoever you're thinking of, it wasn't me."

The wooly rocked back on his heels, a stubborn set pulling at the corner of his mouth and furrowing the dip of his brow. He pressed a single paw to the tiny jut of his chin and sized up the phoenix like a particularly difficult puzzle. He paced in front of her, back and forth, tracing every plume and quill with his limpid gaze. He paused once and then twice, his mouth opening with an accusation just begging the tip of his tongue, before it snapped closed again and he resumed his scrutiny.

Finally his eyes seemed to zero in on two tears hanging loosely from the beaded strand around her neck. The monster appeared to smile. "No, I know it was you. I remember." He nodded towards the the jewels that adorned her neck, his small arms crossing triumphantly.

It was strange. His victory didn't seem shallow. He wasn't snide, or even proud, to have apparently proven her wrong. He just seemed genuinely pleased to name her his benefactor.

He's just like him.

The phoenix laughed quietly but shook her head. No, she had never seen this creature before, she was sure. There was no way she could have ever forgotten someone so like him.

She felt a pang of longing, suddenly wishing she could introduce one to the other, but she knew that would never be possible. They were two coins of different countries. One only just as worthless to the other. They would never belong in the same pocket.

The phoenix's eyes dulled. And she was currency minted for both of those two different, warring countries. A different face pressed on each side and out of place on both, she mused bitterly. The bird sighed, steam slipping out the part of her beak and drifting skyward.

"Hey," the wooly flopped back on a conveniently placed stump, the crease reappearing between his brows with worry, "What's wrong? I didn't mean to upset you if–"

"No," the fire bird choked. She paused, evening her breaths. Her feathers stood and she shivered before they righted themselves. "I was just thinking of someone... You remind me of him."

The little monster inclined his head, asking without words for her to continue.

"It's just... I wish you could know him. That's all."

If anything, the wooly looked only more confused. "Well, let's go." He hopped off his perch, waiting for the the phoenix to guide him. No doubt he thought this was an unusual request.

"Ah... No, we can't." The fire bird remained soundly grounded to the branch on which she rested.

"Why not?"

"He's human." Her words were clenched, contrite; it pained her to draw the line she had always known to exist so decidedly. At least unspoken she could still pretend. She could pretend that when he held her hand that he would still be there if he knew the truth.

"So?" The wooly seemed thoroughly unimpressed.

The phoenix startled, the tears at her neck chimed together as she drew back to give the sun dyed monster a bewildered look. "What?"

"So what if he's human. What does that matter?" The wooly's paws pulled into fists at his side, his mouth pressed into a hard line.

The fire bird shook off her momentary surprise, ancient sadness settling back into the marrow of her sometimes hollow bones. "Humans and monsters will never understand each other. They can't belong together. They fear each other and can only ever conquer that fear with hate and power. That's why they live in two different worlds; they were never meant to see one another." Her voice, low, rang wistful and melancholy.

"Do you really believe that?" the little monster sounded almost hurt.

The phoenix didn't respond. Did she? She wasn't sure. It just seemed to be a universally accepted truth and as much as she ached to deny it she had never been given room to. The people of Sharance rejected monsters and the monsters, in turn, rejected them.

And where did that leave her?

"Dwarves, elves, witches, mermaids; they all live alongside humans and monsters." He chewed on the words with frustration, spinning around to give the fire bird his back. His little shoulders were tense, defensive. "Who's to say humans and monsters can't live together peacefully, too?"

The wooly sounded like he was fighting a losing battle with the world.

Her heart cried alongside his. "It sounds very nice," she allowed.

The wooly hummed, glancing back at the phoenix. "It does, doesn't it." His eyes turned to the the afternoon airs, determination suddenly rolling down his back in waves. "You wait, I'll make it happen." He spun on his heel again and, grinning, he offered the her a rakish wink, "And when I do, I'll be waiting to meet that friend of yours."

The fire bird held herself unspoken for a moment before her eyes lightened, a hint of their previous warmth trickling back into their azure depths. "Okay," she said simply.

The little monster nodded, turning his step to retreat into the deep reaches of Privera. The edge of the clearing only just licked at his toes when he hesitated. "You know," he mused, one paw playing with a loose trinket strapped to his belt, "I know monsters and humans can live together if they really want to."

The phoenix listened attentively.

The wooly tossed his head back over his shoulder and smiled. "I'm the proof."

And then there was no wooly. In his place stood a young man with golden hair that shined golden in the midday sun, with kind blue eyes that broke no promises. "My name is Micah. Very nice to meet you."

AN: Found this while organizing my documents. Dusted it off, spruced it up, and here ya go!

Reviews are greatly appreciated :-0

Thanks for reading!

-TheMonsterGirl