I'm Learning To Be Brave In My Beautiful Mistakes - part I

[Revel]

Revel dropped the knife and dabbed her paws into the oasis pool, then began pawing frantically at her face until she could see with both eyes again. The sling stone hadn't hit her; it had bounced off Vakka-shin's head. She had been caught in the resulting spray. Zhipzi had taken his sword and poked him with it, demanding he stand up again. That was the last Revel had seen of the weasels, or much of anything else for that matter.

She squinted at the sun's flashing off the water - all tinted red now. It made her reflection look pink, now that her white ventral fur was creeping around her sides to complete her winter molt. Her tail only had a few stray brown hairs left.

The stoat kept hunkered down, but raised her head and peered around at the village, trying to judge where everybeast was. This battle was much larger than some band of vermin scaring a couple travellers. She had never seen anything like it. The screams carried on the wind - as little of it there was, it felt wonderful to feel her fur lifted and tugged against the grain. It's warmth tickled her, caused her neck and tail to bristle with pleasure.

She had to get moving.

"Rivvil!"

A scraggly tuft of weeds rustled, and an otter came rushing at her blindly, covering his face with his paws and wailing. It was Tishka, the Fritter, who had so boldly followed them out into the light and somehow managed to survive this far down from the caves.

Revel's first instincts were to kick him into the pool and let him drown, if only to shut him up; the poor creature was setting up an awful din, sure to draw attention of somebeast. If only he wasn't an otter!

If only she hadn't taught him how to swim and catch fish in his teeth...

Tripping him up, she sat on his chest, whispering soothes to him in the Fritterik tongue. The otter calmed, but did not take his paws away until Revel forced her headscarf between them and his eyes. She tied it off behind his head and rolled off. She picked up her knife and held it out in front of her, wishing she had her old cutlass.

"Follow," she said, when he had stood up again. She grabbed his paw and hauled off. They didn't get far before something more colourful caught Revel's eye.

It was the robin, Damask, beached on the shore with his grey legs sticking in the air like broken masts. By pure chance his beak and head were just above the waterline, bobbing gently. His feathers shimmered hypnotically in the sunlight, though the overall look of the bird was wet and frazzled.

Revel tore her gaze away and had begun to move off again when it occurred to her: it would be a shame to let waste such a wonderful wellspring of music.

This was stupid. She was being stupid. The clap and tink of metal still pocked in her ears, only just barely overwhelmed by the thundering of the falls. She shouldn't be doing this, saving beasts. She ought to be running, fast and far away as she could, until it was all over. But Tishka, he was a Fritter - like Zhipzi and Trpcic, even if he was an otter. Wasn't that supposed to be important? Rath had said so. The Fritterik were worth fighting for. Wasn't that why they were coming out of the caves in the first place, to get away from the Srechrrl?

And the robin... well, he would make a good meal, if nothing else. Revel remembered too clearly how it had gone for her when she'd run away without first packing a lunch.

"Stay," she said, pulling downward on Tishka's arm . The otter was astute; he let himself fall into a crouch. Bowing his head, Tishka snuffled and licked at the air, cupping his paws around his tiny ears as if that would help filter the sounds invading his blackened world.

Revel hauled Damask out of the water by his tail-feathers. The bird was an awkward shape, though light enough. There was really no proper way to carry a bird that was alive, as far as Revel knew. She was used to having a team of foragers helping carry their kills back to camp. And as reviving him right here would be too dangerous...

Turning to Tishka, Revel rattled off a quick, if clumsy, explanation of her plan. The otter nodded with a "Yikyik."

Dropping to all fours, Revel grasped Damask's neck gently in her jaws. In fits and starts, she began dragging him away from the water's edge, her long neck lifting him clear of her paws and the harsh ground. His wings trailed off to the side, thankfully out of her way.

She was uncertain if more woodlanders were waiting in the shadow of the cliff, so she headed out towards the desert, in the opposite direction than where the fighting had begun. Her dress skirts scraped along the sand; her stomach just barely.

Every few steps she would growl, and Tishka would stumble after the noise.

It was so very hard not to just crunch down...

Bit by bit, the village dwindled behind them, until at last the sounds of battle were no more. This wasn't safe enough, Revel knew, but she was tired. Not far off to her right was one of the outlying farm fields. Revel headed towards it. It had been too long since she'd last rolled around in grass, or any other non-moss plant life, and it would hide them fair enough until nightfall - and, oh, how the stars and moon would shine all the brighter for their absence!

Tishka stopped at the edge of the field, feeling the long amaranth stalks with his paws. Revel let Damask down and grabbed the otter's arm again.

"'s just grass, 's not gonna 'urt you. It's bushes what've got prickles an' itchy leaves."

"Im greess?"

"Aye, now shurrap an' - ooh, look. There's an 'ut over there... No, y'gotta take off th' - oh, nevermind."

Revel had never seen it before, all out by itself near the far corner of the field. She went down to pick up Damask, but stopped and inspected his neck. The short floofy feathers were glistening with her saliva, and one spot looked like one of her incisors had punctured him. That wasn't good. He needed that throat for singing.

The hut wasn't far away, and the grass wouldn't pay no mind to his bulk being dragged across it. Hopefully his bulk wouldn't pay no mind either. Revel tipped the bird onto his back and grabbed a leg, startling back as her paw met something odd and loose. There was some shiny thing on Damask's leg that spun when she touched it, like a fancy, tarnished-gold manacle. She had never noticed it before. She tugged it off and slipped it onto her wrist, marvelling at its simple elegance. Hah! Now she was prettier than Eliza ever would be!

Turning around to show Tishka, Revel's smile fell into a frown as she caught the otter with a mawful of amaranth. He chewed happily, his eyes were still covered by her headscarf.

"C'mon," she said, taking hold of Damask's tail-feathers. The otter didn't move until she growled again, already some distance. Revel admired him. He had excellent hearing.

Once inside the hut, it took a few minutes for Revel to adjust to the darkened interior. Straight ahead from the doorway was a simple stove and kitchen set. There was a small cot along the wall to her left, and an empty stone basin next to it. Farming tools of all shapes and sizes lined the wall opposite.

Leaving Damask in the middle of the straw-matted floor, she flopped down onto the cot. Despite its look, it was even more comfortable than her nest had been in the Fritterik's caves. She lie there for a few minutes, staring at the roof, letting her jaw and limbs recover.

"Rivvil? Rivvikvi?"

Tishka was still standing outside, waiting for her. Revel sighed and got up again to drag the otter inside. She sat him down against the wall. He curled up and soon dropped into slumber.

The day was quiet. The wind didn't reach into the hut very well, so Revel leaned in the doorway, holding her knife at the ready. There was no telling if they had been followed or not. She kept her ears perked for the sound of crunching in the field or sand around them. The amaranth was too tall to see the rest of the village over, and could easily hide anybeast approaching.

The stoat closed her eyes, letting her ears and nose take over. Her eyes hurt at first, as a tired muscle is wont to do during rest. But her face scrunched harder; she dropped the knife and held her stomach.

That felt... odd. Different. Wrong. Why wasn't the stupid bird waking up?

Shifting into a more comfortable position near the floor, her back gave a sudden pang. With a growl that was more a whimper, Revel leaned against the wall and tried to focus on the noises in the wind.