The aegil are what the townspeople call them. They do not exist anywhere else save for this tiny village high up in the mountains. No one is entirely sure exactly what they are, be they reptile, mustelid, amphibian, or even dragon. All anyone knows for certain is that there are few of them left, and those that still exist live entirely in the forest.563Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk8c71upsHk
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Extremely shy creatures, they are, and now they rarely show themselves to strangers. Their small, sleek, long bodies are perfect for slipping through the branches where they make their nests. The aegil retreat higher and higher in the trees each year, away from the rumbling vehicles and creeping smog that become more and more prevalent as the number of tourists in the region increase, and someday I reckon they’ll disappear from human eyes entirely. Until then, though, they still return to earth to forage, always in the fall when foreign visitors are at their least.563Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6d78cHqmsw
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Some of the eldest villagers claim that they had voices long ago; clear, strident calls that would ring through the trees whenever the mating period was upon them. And then at night, no matter the season, they would warble lilting, joyous songs to keep all the townsfolk awake, much to the dismay of the early-rising farmers. Not anymore. Now the aegil are among the quietest of the forest creatures, out-silenced perhaps only by the earthworms. To sense their coming, one must rely instead on sight or instinct. Yes, you heard that right - instinct is by far the most reliable sense, even over that of sight. To spot the aegil’s amber eyes glowing through the bushes is possible but extremely difficult. There are people who instead swear to a prickling at the backs of their necks, or a sudden lull in the wood, or even the feeling of many eyes observing their movements from the shadows. It may sound ominous, but it really isn’t. The children are by far the best at sensing them, and know instinctively that the aegil mean them no harm.563Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjuscidtF0n
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The aegil love children most, and in these waning times, those below the age of twelve are often the only ones the aegil grace with their presence. The best descriptions of them have mostly been provided by children, after all. An aegra’s appearance is extremely difficult to describe in exact terms, for most people only ever catch a glimpse of them, be it a flash of iridescent scales in sunlight or rustling as a swift body disappears into the browning leaves. For the children, however, they deign to move slowly or even stop, feeling safe enough to curl ‘round their necks and sleep in their laps as their young wardens read aloud to them. Nonetheless, even then reports vary; the colours of the aegil are always warm, but can range from a rosy peach to deep vermillion to mottled orange to a bright, solid gold. As changeable as a sunset, some say, or as the deciduous trees in the onset of winter. Still frustratingly vague to most, but perhaps the most apt description we will ever reach.563Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHUuMCJJkn3
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Hilfern’s child Lucie from the village outskirts provided us with by far the most vivid account of an aegra to date. She first befriended one of the creatures at the tender age of eight, whereupon it had returned to visit her every autumn. Being a precocious child, she would come home every evening covered in leaves to excitedly recount to any who would listen the adventures she’d had that day with her darling friend Soli. “He’s as red as a cardinal, but yellow-breasted,” she would say. “He’s all covered in scales but his chest fur is the softest you’d ever touch. He reminds me a bit of a ferret, really, but also of a lizard. His eyes are so bright I almost feel like he understands me.” 563Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXola1irn5X
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Their bond was unusually close, even for one between an aegra and a child. It was also darling Soli, however, who was the first of the aegil to ever be found dead. During one late harvest, an eleven-year-old Lucie stumbled back to the village, clothes torn and eyes swollen with tears, and after the longest time, all that could be pried from her were the words, “He’s gone. His scales have turned blue and cold.” Some of the more active folk, upon grasping her meaning, ran out to the clearing where she was known to frequent, but all that could be found were leaf-dust and the beginnings of frost in the grass. Once an energetic child, after that incident Lucie became more solemn and withdrawn. Though she mostly recovered her good spirit as time went on, she no longer went on escapades in the forest only to return with twigs in her hair and a glow in her eyes.
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A/N: Wrote this a while ago for a similar prompt - hope this fits the bill! I imagine the aegil to be a sort of mix between ferret and lizard, though I'm sure some of the more adventurous townsfolk insist that they must be descended from dragons. :)
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