Trevor and Tobias were terrified.
For over 300 years they’d been living in plain sight, deep within central America but now, it seemed, they had been summoned home.
“SSSKKRRRIIIEEEEE-TRBB-TRBB-FFFFFF-PLOP,” cried Tobias, excitedly.
“Mm,” Trevor replied. He’d not been a fan of their native tongue for at least 200 years and was prone to letting Tobias know with as few syllables as possible.
The somewhat cramped wicker craft drifted ever upward.
“It’s slower than I remember,” mused Trevor.
“No,” Trevor interrupted.
“You’re right,” Tobias agreed. “and the last time we ascended, we definitely didn’t bring sandwiches.”
This flash fiction/short story, call it what you will, was written for Friday Fictioneers.