by Al K. Line
Leel turned her attention to a patch of leaves, dry and brittle, a reminder of the previous autumn and the one fast approaching.
It looked like leaves, it was just leaves, but Leel pointed at it with her whole body like she'd discovered danger.
"Stupid dog, it's just the wind rustling the leaves." Arcene made to move forward, out of the shade of the forest and into a meadow full of wild flowers where the bees buzzed and birds flew high up overhead, snatching insects from the air, darting to feed their always-hungry young ones. "Come on Leel, let's go into the sun, it will be dark and cold soon enough so let's enjoy it while we can." Arcene walked forward, heading away from the dangerous leaves and toward the open country where the sun was bleaching the petals of the flowers, turning them pale and even more beautiful.
Woof.
Arcene ignored Leel and moved off to the left, the bright colors drawing her closer, just like the bees.
Woof, woof. Yowl.
Arcene turned around to find Leel sat on the ground pawing at her nose like she'd been bitten. Probably got stung again, I don't know how many times I've told her not to try to catch bees. Arcene failed to suppress a giggle when she remembered the time Leel had got stung on her lip and her face had swollen up making her look like a comedy dog she'd seen in an old cartoon: Scabby? Scooby? Something like that. Leel had looked funny for days until the swelling had gone down, but she didn't learn her lesson and soon enough she was back snapping at bees, getting stung, and acting like she had no idea how or why.
"Did you eat a bee again you stupid... Hey, what's that?" Arcene peered down at the suspected cause of Leel's pain, a ball of brown spikes partially hidden by the leaves. The scratch of Leel's paw was visible in the dirt next to it. She probably tried to move it then went in for a sniff and got a nose full of needles. "You need to learn to be more careful Leel, you'll get yourself into trouble."
Leel looked at her like she was a walking contradiction — she wasn't that clever, was she?
Arcene squatted down beside the creature and pulled her hair behind her back — it had definitely grown a lot, maybe she should cut it? The thought sent butterflies flapping inside her belly — she couldn't recall when she'd ever cut her hair, not properly. Sure, she had snipped a few bits off here and there, usually after she'd got into bother and had something stuck in it: honey for example, or tree sap, and there was that time with the glue, oh, and yeah, once she got some trapped in this weird machine that had a handle and little rollers and she'd got a little carried away seeing if it would flatten her hair out and—
Woof.
Arcene focused on the little ball of spikes again. She made soothing sounds to Leel, now sat next to her watching the cause of her pain intently, but making no move to touch it again.
The ball of spikes moved; Arcene and Leel jumped. She laughed for them both — after the life she'd led, the terrible time she'd had of it lately, and here she was worrying about a tiny thing that would go down Leel's throat whole if it wasn't so spiky.
"I wonder if you can eat it?" Arcene got down on hands and knees and moved her face close to the diminutive danger. She sniffed. "Smells of leaves. Who wants to eat something that smells of leaves?" Her belly rumbled and grumbled so maybe her body wasn't too concerned. You couldn't eat spikes, but what hid beneath the spikes?
Leel put her head next to Arcene's, thick neck muscles straining forward as she sniffed, copying Arcene.
"Don't get too close or you'll have another nose full of spikes," warned Arcene as she squinted to get a better look. "Ugh." She fell backward onto her bottom, almost sitting on her sword, as the creature uncurled and snuffled about in the decaying matter it uncovered beneath the pile of dry leaves. The rustling was loud up so close and Arcene could see that the little head had a cute long nose and tiny eyes that seemed pretty good at finding food. It uncovered a little worm that wriggled in the loam trying to escape, but the tiny mouth slurped it down; the creature paid Arcene and Leel no attention whatsoever.
The spiky hunter made a faint noise, almost like a whine, and Arcene couldn't help but wonder if it was sad. Did spiky creatures like this get sad? Did they miss their friends and their family? Did they wonder what was happening out in the world? Did they even know there was a world?
No, of course they didn't. All they knew was they were hungry or tired, and they probably didn't even know what they were called.
"Hmm, you know what Leel? I think this is a hedgehog. I'm sure I saw one..." Arcene trailed off as the hedgehog curled back up into a ball at the sound of her voice. "Oops, sorry there little fella, didn't mean to scare you. You go about your business." Arcene stood and pulled Leel away from the scared creature, stepping back two paces to give it room, then she resumed her crouching.
She put a finger to her lips, turned Leel's head with the other, and went, "Ssh." Leel just looked at her then snapped her head back to the hedgehog, eyes dancing with excitement and curiosity at whatever game they were about play.
Arcene knew Leel thought they would eat it somehow, and kept nodding her head slightly as if to tell Arcene to hurry as she was hungry.
From deep within the expansive stomach of Leel a dull rumble echoed like thunder in the distance, threatening to overpower everything in its wake. Arcene was starving too. It had been a day since they'd left the city and the bad memories, and they'd eaten little their first night. Arcene had hoped to catch at least a few birds that morning but it hadn't worked out, so spikes or no spikes, she couldn't help but wonder.
No, that's not fair, it's only little, and besides, I'm sure they are rare now. She tried to think back to when she'd seen one, but she had been a young girl, when her mother was alive and having a day when she wasn't deep in the grip of The Lethargy, but Arcene was too young to recall anything but snapshots of herself hopping about, dirty and disheveled as she danced around a curled up ball of wonder like this one. She'd been warned not to touch it, that it may have fleas, and that they were a very rare creature now so however hungry she got she must take care of them if she found one.
Such memories were few and far between, her life had been spent mostly alone through her childhood so she hardly ever recalled anything to do with her mother. Silly, it was another life, another girl, a small child that knew nothing much of anything. Arcene wiped a tear from her eye. Wow! When had she last thought of her mother, cried over memories of a life that would have been so different if she hadn't been alone for so many years?
It didn't matter, that was the past. Things were different now, better. She wasn't alone.
The hedgehog moved again, cautiously unfurled itself, and searched the pile of leaves in what seemed like a slow-motion panic.
What's it doing? Is it looking for food?
Mew. Mew. Squee.
Leel lunged forward, nearly dragging Arcene face-down into the dirt, but she tugged her ear and Leel knew better than to disobey. What was that noise? Was it the hedgehog? At the sound it turned and scampered into the leaves, its backside wiggling as it squirmed into the brittle pile.
Squee. Mew.
The high-pitched noises continued and moments later the hedgehog disappeared; muffled cries increased.
The two watchers stayed motionless, Leel now as interested as Arcene in what was happening out of sight. They sat there for minutes. Neither moved, just listened with heads cocked as they tried to hear as the wind whispered through the trees, disturbing the loose leaves and promising to bring a shiver to Arcene's bare arms.
Silver hair flew in front of Arcene's face, tangling around her neck like it was out to do her trouble; she muttered to herself that it better behave or she'd chop it off. She wished she'd put it in pigtails but didn't want to risk disturbing whatever was happening out of sight. Suddenly the wind gusted past fast, whipped the loose leaves around in a vortex and took away the top layer of the pile.
Arcene's eyes widened as three tiny pink creatures were revealed, moving blindly on tiny legs that protruded from bare skin as if
they were tadpoles morphing into frogs. They were all wrinkled and had little black buttons for as yet unseeing eyes. They nestled close to their mother, hiding from the light and cold, making little cries for comfort as they slid under her exposed belly.
Arcene felt tears on her cheeks.
I miss Lucien. How is my boy doing? I'm a mother, just like the hedgehog.
Realization hit Arcene like she'd been playing at it so far, like she did what she was supposed to, showered her child with love and affection, wanting to give him everything and more, but it had all still somehow felt surreal, like it wasn't her, like she wasn't old enough or mature enough to cope with such a responsibility so did what she could as if she was within another person who cared for her child.
It was too surreal, too strange to think of herself as someone that brought new life into the world and was responsible for its welfare.
But she was, and she was a mother who loved her child more than she thought possible.
Here was the reality of what it was to be alive and a parent: tiny little creatures born into a world that would destroy them without the care and attention of their mother. Arcene was merely one of countless that had given birth and had such a responsibility — she wasn't special, but at the same time her responsibility was greater than any that had ever existed in the history of the world.
The baby hedgehogs settled down, slept as their mother warmed them and sank deeper into the leaves. Soon they vanished and nothing remained but faint squeals as the tiny creatures battled to survive while their mother gave everything she could to keep them safe and warm.
"Come on Leel," whispered Arcene into Leel's ear, as quietly as she could. She stood slowly, not wanting to cause more upset for the lone parent, and they left the family to their lives and walked out into the sunshine.
Arcene let her tears water the petals of the flowers. Bees buzzed about her head.
Leel tried to snap at one, then stopped.
Maybe she remembered the pain after all?
Sometimes life hurt; sometimes there were flowers.
There was always love.
Far From Ideal
Whip felt himself almost lost — he was too old for such exploits and definitely out of practice. He never enjoyed it much even in his younger days, although he had entered the bodies and minds of numerous animals, usually to experience the freedom of their life outside the castle walls. Mostly it made him feel ill, especially if he was in a bird's body. He occupied the bodies of animals within the castle walls so he could spy.
Those days were long gone, he had no need for them, but he'd kept track of the girl as best he could and had managed to sniff her out, literally.
He'd taken up occupancy in a fox and tracked her to the edge of the city, not daring to enter for fear of what lay within: people and other animals stronger and more dangerous than the fox he didn't want to come to harm. So he waited, lingered, and then followed her when she emerged.
He'd scouted ahead and decided to rest in a pile of leaves where his mix of fox/human senses told him a warm hedgehog hid, as content with life as it was possible to be. He switched bodies. How tempting it was to live a life such as that and never return to a human body with all its stress, worry, aches and pains. What could be better than curling up in a bed of warm leaves thinking of nothing?
It was so tempting, and the half-Whip that remained within the hedgehog found it almost irresistible. Look after young, prime imperative, stay warm, eat, sleep, survive — the simple things in life, unencumbered by the trials and tribulations of being an old, no, ancient man. Worry about... what was it he was worried about? What was his life as a human being? It was hard to recall.
Whip jolted his mind with a tiny surge of adrenaline he directed to course through the body of the hedgehog, making it alert, and watched with renewed interest as the girl sat staring back at him. He uncurled the tiny body, not forcing so much as suggesting, as he had no desire to scare the creature, merely be a guest that shared occupancy and would leave soon.
The hedgehog didn't seem concerned. It welcomed the visit, devoured the tiny pieces of information telling of a world it would never, could never know.
They were friends if for the shortest time.
Fading fast, losing himself to a dream-life of motherly nurture and curling up into a ball in a warm nest, Whip drew energy from The Noise through his human form and into the mind of his host, opening the pupils as wide as was safe and improving the eyesight so he could make out Arcene and Leel peering at him.
Whip saw her in normal space and time and he viewed her through The Noise, watching her lifeforce dance and shimmer with barely concealed vitality that seemed to spill out into the world and swirl around her like an extension of her hair. This was one powerful young lady; something wasn't quite right though.
He searched deeper as the eyesight dimmed, the hedgehog's body unable to maintain the forced clarity. He felt the tug of his young at his teats as warm milk flowed, losing himself for a moment in the intimacy of the parent/child bond. Gathering focus, he pulled back, looked deeper into the girl and found she was older than all outward signs suggested — she was a lot more complicated than her easy-going manner would have you believe. There was strength beneath the slender pale figure, he saw it clearly. Whip noted the connections between muscle and bone, the powerful tendons and ligaments that meant she could exert forces much greater than any human who wasn't Awoken, and even then it would take years of conditioning and practice to have such coiled energy and quick reflexes at your disposal.
A strange cough came from the lips of his host, making the girl and dog jump. It was a laugh, coming out weird from the creature's lips, not designed for mirth.
With a quick farewell and a polite thank you, Whip withdrew his mind and drifted back into the aching body of an old man.
He leaned forward and poked at the already fierce fire, stirring it up angrily, letting the warmth seep into his bones. It still wasn't as comforting as a nice nest of decaying leaves, but it would have to do.
A thin smile spread across Whip's creased face.
The idiot twins were in for a lot more than they had bargained for when the girl made it back to Castle Kenyon.
With thoughts fading and dreams overtaking him, Whip sank into the high back chair and closed his eyes.
He had the best sleep he'd had in decades, dreaming of dirt and worms and a life without worry where all that mattered were his babies.
Waking up was a severe disappointment, but at least he knew he had a way out when the time came. He unwound like a broken, rusty spring, pushed up with his hands on the threadbare arms of the chair, and went to make a cup of what passed for tea these days.
It was odd, but he couldn't get the craving for a tasty worm out of his mind.
Strange Tunnels
Arcene became increasingly hot and bothered as the afternoon wore on, and hungry, always hungry. She often wondered if it was something to do with her body being forever young, her metabolism somehow ramped up and never able to slow, but then she thought back over the years and had to accept that it went a lot deeper than just being a permanent teenager — she'd always craved more, more of everything. But what dominated her every waking thought was her food obsession. There was never enough to eat, and the fact was that children who developed inside their mothers without enough sustenance often grew up to be infatuated with food, so she counted herself lucky that her obsession never made her put on weight — she was as slender as a willow, always would be.
To escape burning as the heat increased, they took a detour from open fields into the cooler shade of a shallow ravine where water trickled over boulders, slowly carving its way toward a destination far away. Arcene kicked at the rocks in search of freshwater crabs or maybe crayfish. All she found was silt and the odd tiny stickleback, impossible to catch and not worth the effort, which didn't stop Leel splashing about with her clumsy paws trying to catch them and barking her annoyance as they swam away or
hid in the cracks between the rocks.
Still, it made for a pleasant afternoon, and the shade of the steep hillside was welcome.
As they sauntered down the slight decline, heading to the lower land after the hills that hid the city, Arcene's mind turned to the blue castle, a strange anomaly even amid her sometimes surreal world.
Why blue? Why so closed-off. What lay hidden behind those walls and why wasn't she allowed in?
It irked her no end. She was an adventuress, felt it her right to be allowed to uncover the secrets behind the walls. Nobody and nothing would stop her.
All she had to do was come up with some kind of plan to get inside — so far she'd drawn a complete blank.
Could she try to find her way in the way poor Beamer had escaped? No, gross, and besides, it was doubtful Leel would fit through the sewage tunnels — from what Beamer had said it was a tight squeeze. Plus who wanted to do that? Not her, that was for sure.
Maybe there was another way in? Maybe they had secret ladders hidden in the fields or the woods and would drag them up to the exterior walls the other side of the moat and let them drop onto the top? Ha, that was silly, the ladders would be way too large to move if that was the case.
No, she would have to get the drawbridge down and bang on the door like she was just passing and had popped in to say hi.
"I guess we better make our way back there Leel, then hang around and see what happens. We could make a nice camp, light a fire, that will get their attention. Someone is bound to come out at some point, surely?"