And the Sky May Look Blue

[Revel]

This was far from ideal. All of it.

It had hit Revel like Nivard's shovel, the realization that this, of all places, was what she had been looking for, ever since that stream-side cave with the voles. That place had been ideal. Lots of water, plenty of little rooms, a nice kitchen (stove a little small; what woodlanders called quaint), good hunting and a lovely bank with grasses and flowers and sand to play in...

This? This was not what she'd been looking for. The wistfulness she'd felt, those little cravings for hidey-holes and warm spots (vole meat!) - that it had ended in this! The whole thing was simply incredulous. A toolshed! With no proper door, a hole punched in the wall, half an otter and a dozen farming implements strewn about the floor, laying on a cot made out of what felt like old palm tree leaves stuffed inside it, soup everywhere!

Her entire life had led up to this point. Despite the location, it somehow felt... felt right. She was supposed to do this.

Revel reached an arm out and tugged at Tishka's hide, yanking tiny pawful of fur out. She rubbed it into the cot's fabric covering and felt somewhat better for it, but it still wasn't proper. Wasn't there a hole under a tree somewhere? Maybe she could still find one before -

No.

Too late.

* * * * * * *

Of all the parts of her that felt sore, her tongue, she decided, was by far the worst.

It was gone. All the pains, all the horrors and panic, all the doubts, every niggling little flutter in her blood, every roiling, sleepless night - vanished as though it had never been.

It was the music. The robin's squawking did not compare; the softness of it filled the hut, as wonderful as rainbow smoke. Every little grunt, every little squeak and squeal was a song unto itself.

They sort of tickled.

It was impossible to tell them apart. They all looked the same, all smelled the same. All she had been able to deduce was that two were female, and three were male. Maybe.

She reached down and plucked the quietest out of the squabble, and held it softly against her neck. It - she; it was a female - was so small, so faint. Revel could have almost sworn it didn't even exist after all.

The others were becoming more restless, at the point where they were contented, but still greedily suckling for more. Another fell asleep amidst the wriggling heap, and so Revel began humming to them, softly at first, then louder as the melody became clear. It was one of the last songs the robin had sung for her in the caves. She could only barely remember the words.

Oh lay you down in moonlight-dappled night
An' I'm Revel in the scent o' nighttime air.
For you will find the world is bright and fair
And you will sleep in a basket, a lovely sight.
Oh, with your insects they are food and right,
A maiden's grace with mother's ahumhum... care.
A courage strong, to face a mean world there,
An' still to fondle tiny, unfound life... light...

What matters grace an' beauty next to that?
What matters how our food chooses to live?
An' grace an' beauty are but passing things
An' um... humhum, ah da da, da... hum an' rat,
An' lovin' all that nature 'as to give,
An' hearin' all the songs that nature sings.

And she slept, too.

* * * * * *

The hut had changed. Revel sensed it immediately, before opening her eyes. The air was clearer, less oppressive - and less safe.

Tishka was gone.

The otter's corpse, which for the last day had sat slumped against the wall, was gone, and dust and sand thrown over the spots of pooling blood. The straw mat had been rolled up against the wall, and somebeast had taken the rake and swept all the stringy bits, too, and the lines in the dirt flowed through the doorway like little rivers as seen from far up a hill.

"Hello," Venril said, poking his head around the doorway. He stared at the corner of the roof above and behind Revel. "I hope you don't mind... it was starting to smell really bad, and I didn't want anybeast, er, to panic, or get the wrong idea..."

Revel reached behind her and grabbed Keane's coat, pulling it overtop herself despite the heat. Her dress top was bundled beneath her head along with her headscarf, as the cot came with no pillow or blanket of its own. Venril coughed and brought his gaze closer to her face.

"Go 'way," she said, her voice hoarse from singing, and lack of drink.

"We've come to make sure you're alright," Venril said, inching further out of the doorway until only half his face was visible. "Bel - Baez is here, and he's brought Zhipzi."

Through the badly-fitted boards, Revel could see the male's arm wave furiously, blocking out the slivers of light here and there.

"Nonsense," a female voice growled. "It's my toolshed, I can go in if I want. Come on, Leftenant."

Leftenant... Bellona!

Revel didn't shift. She couldn't. Not so soon after... she could barely lift her arm, let alone sit up.

The funny-looking mouse stood in the doorway. Its expression was indecipherable, as its eyes flickered from the jumble of tools, to the upset cookware, to the scene on the cot.

Revel growled, her tail fuzzing out - it was all she could do. The dormouse, thankfully, took the hint and turned away, muttering, "Disgusting!" But another mouse, this one more normal looking, appeared.

It stepped inside, heedless of Revel's warnings, and stopped just two paces away, head cocked to one side curiously.

"They're sleeping?" it asked, glancing up. Revel stared back blankly, teeth bared, willing the mouse into non-existance. "They're... well, I suppose they're cute... after a fashion. You should be, um... proud!" The mouse looked behind, whispering to Venril, "Is she a, a Fritterik as well?"

"She's not," Venril said from the doorway. "We really should go now, if she seems alright."

"What, you don't want to stay with her? Aren't they yours, too?"

A short, sharp bark of laughter was heard from Bellona. "I'd be surprised if that one knew where kits came from before today, m'am."

Venril clenched his jaw tighter. "I was merely concerned for her safety! I hardly know her at all! Why is everybeast thinking - And as it happens, I do know, and - "

"Uhmm," Revel said, trying to wet her throat enough to speak.

"What is it?"

"They kinda smell like you."

Venril crept in; Sagaru moved outside to give him room. The male stoat's nose twitched once or twice, then he stood back, staring off into space.

Revel anxiously curled herself closer around the kits. Outside, the two mice's voices were not far off; they remained a faint buzzing in the background, setting Revel's heart pumping.

"Go 'way," she whispered, breathlessly trying to raise her voice. Venril seemed not to hear at all.

Pawsteps in the sand; another figure appeared in the doorway. It was the one-eyed hedgehog.

"Hello, Revel," he said softly, after a minute or two. "Oh, oh dear. Are you doing well? I should be able to get thee something for thy bruises and wounds. 'Tis an unfortunate time for such a blessing to occur, the day after battle..."

"Hhhhff," Revel said, her whiskers splayed. Her tail once again fuzzed out. She realised her knife was gathered with the tools in the opposite side of the hut. Venril had probably put it there while cleaning up. Curse his sissy, scum-riddled hide!

Baez stepped towards the cot, holding out a flask and a loaf of bread.

"I bring thee water, and bread. Pray, do not fear me, Revel. I mean thee and thy young no harm."

She lifted her head and drank, spilling it down her cheeks and whiskers, until the flask was empty. Baez placed the bread on the cot, behind her makeshift pillow, where she could reach it easily later. Revel growled again, but made no move to bite him. She busied herself in arranging the lone female kit back with the others.

"I need to go," Venril said. He took his leave without another word. Revel half-called his name, stopping when she saw what Baez had in his paws.

The hedgehog had filched her headscarf, apparently while she'd been sitting up, and had unfolded it. He held it in front of him, peering intently. Outside, the voices faded as Venril and the mice left again. Revel's eyes were locked onto the headscarf, watching its every movement. If he tore it, or stole it away...

"Where did thou find this?" he suddenly asked. The noise startled Revel, spurring her stressed-out state into action.

"Don't touch that!" She practically screamed. "Venril! Make 'im give it back! Stupid 'og!"

"This... this was my mother's! And - and my..." He sniffed at it, bunching it up into his nose. His eye was wet. "My Suellyn wore this. The very same stitching! When our dear... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to alarm thee. Here thou are."

Revel snatched it back when he came within range, and did her best to tie it around the back of her neck again.

"I must ask thee - have thou seen my Suellyn?"

"I dunno. Yeh," Revel said, perking up slightly. "That was it's name... Sullen or somethin'..."

"Thy have met her, then! When? Where was she - how is she doing?"

"Oh." Revel shrugged and fiddled with the coat overtop of her; the kits were starting to wake and squirm. "I think Nivard killed it."

"What?" Baez put a paw to his mouth. "What - thy mate thou spoke of? What did he... My Suellyn?"

"This'n's my favourite," Revel said, tracing a claw down the back of the female that had rested under her chin. "She's very quiet. Usually," she added.

"What of my Suellyn?" Baez demanded. "Is she well? Where is she? What did your Nivard kill? Tell me!"

"Haha, pritter vikvik! Toller, toller!" Zhipzi the weasel bounded in, one of Venril's hordebeasts leading her. The rat scratched his head, glancing around inside and outside the hut.

"Huh, thought the Captain'd be 'ere. He's left? Wot a lout, leavin' me with no more instructions than this!"

"Toller, I toller," Zhipzi burbled, squatting on the floor and shuffling forward 'til her nose was against the edge of the cot. "Pritterik! Rivvil vikvik."

"Where is Nivard? He is Captain Matukhana's First Mate, yes? Is he still about? Oh, please tell me..."

"Pritterikpritterikpritterik! Lickylick, yip? Ihn yorf?"

"Hoi, did any o' you lot see where Captain Venril went off? Wos it back to the caves, or back to 'is woodland friends? 'Ey?"

"I'm sure - she must be alive... Surely!"

"Sharrup!"

Revel was clutching the cot's ticking so tightly that it had torn where her claws gouged it, revealing that it was, as she had suspected, stuffed with old palm tree leaves.

The hut creaked in the wind.

"Everybeast. Out."

It took a few seconds for the order to register, then they scattered like the amaranth seeds flitting past the doorway every so often.

"I'm sorry," Baez said. "I need not mean to push thee. I will return later, when thou are faring better."

Revel closed her eyes and let her head fall back down. She moved aside the coat, letting her kits crawl back against her stomach.

How did it go?

Oh lay you down in moonlight-dappled night
An' I'm Revel I'm a stoat o' nighttime - no, scent o' nighttime...

"Pritter vikvik?" Zhipzi's nose rose up from the floor for a moment, as the weasel wormed her way back in.

Revel sighed.

"'Elp me think o' names, Zhipzi?"

The weasel grinned.