A short story I wrote for class that I might expand on one day.
He climbed back up the stairs and pushed the door open. He took a few steps out onto the grass and looked back. The small, shed-like building was simply a box with a downward slope to follow the stairs that led to an empty room underground. This is where Tekvarr had stayed for, what he thought to be, a few hours. Time was hard to tell for him. He scanned all around himself, trying to see if something was different on the horizon. But there wasn't. It was as barren out here as it was inside. Even the air was still, as he could not feel the wind brushing against his scales.
It was unsettlingly still for him. But, seeing no other choice, he started to walk. He walked over the plains, almost expecting a building, a tree, another being to appear on the horizon as he walked. But there was nothing out here but the short grass that stretched on for as far as he could see. His heart was heavy with hopelessness. Hunger had not yet started to consume him, but it seemed like all organic processes had stopped inside him. He was not thirsty, hungry, tired...he felt nothing but what prowled inside his head. Confusion. Fear. Isolation.
He had awoken in the underground structure in a rather uncomfortable position. Metal chains held his wings and his legs to his chest, but his hands were bound together behind his back with mere rope. It was clear to him his escape was intended, although it did take some time for him to slip out of the restraints. He didn't spend much time theorizing or trying to understand exactly what was happening. The lack of real answers would drive him mad. So he accepted the reality, and thought of only how to escape his predicament.
He wandered the plains until after the sun had disappeared and a complete and utter darkness had fallen upon the land. As the twin moons rose together above the horizon line to his right, Tekvarr felt relieved. Not only were they a source of light, but also a reference to the direction he was going in. It was still ghastly dark, however. But he was not concerned. There wasn't anything to see out here anyway.
He walked on and on, his mind tiring before his body. He stretched his wings, considering taking to the sky, knowing it'd take more energy to fly. But that was a problem he didn't see important at the time. In a fluid like motion, he forced himself into the air, having a quick feeling of foreign vertigo as he ascended and balanced. But he adjusted and started to glide.
He again, scanned all around him, ascending higher and higher. He could now feel the beautiful wind brushing against him, a comforting feeling in contrast to the stillness he had experienced since he woke up. He could even feel colder as he increased in altitude, but that didn't bother him. The sense of feeling anything at all was so gratifying to him. He should have done it sooner. The darkness didn't completely blind him, but did make it harder to see in the distance, an advantage he'd have if he left earlier.
Some time after fruitless flying, he landed back on the ground. He felt weak. He felt tired. He didn't know how long he had been out, but it degraded his morality. Above him, the infinite number of stars sparkled and gases of blue, pink, red, and purple color were trapped in pockets in parts of the sky, making it all the more beautiful. But it didn't make him feel any better. Worse, perhaps. He shambled across the grass like a zombie, trying to find a rhyme or reason out of this reality. But he couldn't. He was free here...yet also imprisoned.