Acorns and Tubers

[Poko]

At last, after what seemed like ages, the small group of survivors saw natural light at the end of the long tunnel that bored through the mountainside. By this time the masks the ermine had lent them felt almost as smothering as the gas fumes they were trying to avoid. The small discs of glass which had allowed them to see at the start were now fogged to the point of blindness, and every breath was thick with warm moisture. The glow of light was clear enough, however, and soon the orange torchlight that had been their blurry beacon the last quarter of the trek was overcome by bright, pale sunlight.

Poko felt Tak?s paw and gripped it tight as he led her out into the whiteness, then helped her remove the mask with care. Poko inhaled the fresh, crisp winter air gratefully, still panting from the heat that had slicked down the fur of her face.

?Ugh. Glad that?s over.? She smiled at the familiar white stoat?s handsome young face. The stripes painted across his forehead and muzzle had bled into his fur and smeared to where she could almost imagine a ferret?s mask.

The other ermine who had agreed to help lead them through was not so genial as Takis. He pointed a claw to the right of the far horizon.

?There be Carrigul. Day and half non-stop trek if you are fit enough. Take your time and it can be up to three. I will have the masks back now.?

Each beast returned the bird-like masks which the ermine stuffed into a sack, counting with suspicious meticulousness. Nyika removed the last mask from the still-unconscious pine marten and handed it over.

?There is still one missing!? The ermine hissed, glaring around accusingly at the group.

Takis sighed and lifted his mask, shaking his head at Poko as if to say ?Can you believe this guy??

?Oh. Right.? The ermine acknowledged the young priest. ?Well, come along then.? He lifted his mask to don it again when Takis interrupted.

?I?m not going back with you.?

Poko felt her stomach leap with hope. The older ermine appeared irritated.

?You are expected to return and commence with new interpretations and prophecies and the ceremony of initiation. I cannot allow you to remain with these?travelers.?

?I am aware of my duties, Atticus. I will return ? in my own time.?

?The council will not be pleased if I lose the only priest who has risen among us in fifty-odd years.?

?I am not lost. I know my way back.? Takis?s voice broke in a way that made him sound more petulant than he had likely intended. He cleared his throat and spoke more smoothly then. ?Leave some torches. I will be back tonight. There is some unfinished business I have with the outsiders.?

Atticus evaluated the young priest who was obviously testing his new-found authority. After a long, drawn-out minute he replied.

?Very well. We shall see you then.? He held eye-contact with Takis pointedly, then slipped the mask over his face and departed after leaning some spare torches against the tunnel wall.

Poko blew a sigh through her lips, disappointed that she did not get to keep her friend longer. Takis turned to her with amusement on his face.

?I wasn?t sure he?d let me.?

??Course!? Poko put her paws to her hips, ?Who?s gonna mess with Takis the Great?? She shrugged then, looking less pompous. ?But how am I going to teach you to read in just one afternoon??

The ermine put a paw around the ferretmaid?s shoulders. ?I guess you?ll just have to come back to see me again soon.?

But Poko was not about to leave Takis completely unprepared. While the others recovered through rest, Takis related all he knew about Carrigul and the remaining journey before them to the Captain and Istvan. Poko, meanwhile, found a tree with papery bark, and tore several large pieces free. She took the bit of charcoal from her pocket and began to work, scratching and scrawling with intense focus. Over an hour later she noticed Takis standing before her questioningly.  Poko patted the space beside her and the ermine sat comfortably close to take a look at what she had accomplished.

?This is to help you with reading.? She pointed at her make-shift list of letters and pictures. ?See here, this letter makes the ?A? sound and the ?Ah? sound, so I drew an ?acorn? and then here an ?arm?. Whatever picture I drew, it starts with the sound that that letter makes, get it?? She beamed.

Takis gave a barely perceptible nod, pointing at the first drawing with a knitted brow. ?But what is an acorn??

?What?s an ACORN? You don?t know what an acorn is?? Poko could not believe it.

Takis shook his head apologetically. ?Should I??

?It?s a nut from an oak tree!? Poko exclaimed, then thought carefully, trying to remember the last time she had seen an oak on their journey, but almost every tree in the mountains she could recall was some type of pine. It had never occurred to her that Takis might not be able to recognize some of the pictures, but now she realized his isolated environment impacted more than just his ability to read. ?You need to get out and see more of the world,? Poko advised, shaking her head with pity.

The two young beasts worked through the list together, Takis identifying what he could while Poko redrew new images to substitute for those he did not understand. It was a start, but imperfect, of course. The ferret herself knew the difficulty of some words that did not match up phonetically with their spelling, and the frustration it would likely cause her friend. But something was better than nothing, and Poko believed that Tak would need every bit of help he could get, being the sole priest that all of his tribe would be looking to for answers. The pressure would be terrible.

?Are you really going to go back?? Poko broke Takis?s concentration as he reviewed the little charcoal drawings again. He appeared surprised at the question, then looked away.

?I have to. My tribe does not understand the writings or the stones. I can?t leave them to live their lives in constant danger. Poko ? they?re my family.?

Poko realized how selfish she had been to think only of her own desires. She had wanted to keep Takis to herself, but unlike her, he had family and responsibilities?and a home.  It made the ferret feel more alone than ever. She looked over at the others. Nyika was talking to herself while cleaning the dirt from Zevka?s limp tail. Vanessa was off by herself, sitting and mulling over her bloody stump, shoulders hunched. The captain was resting with his head under his wing, and Istvan was standing guard. Was this her family now? She drew out a long sigh and leaned her head on Takis?s shoulder. He stiffened at first, then relaxed, putting an arm around her.

Their few remaining hours slipped by far too quickly. The others had decided to make camp in a nearby cave that Takis had pointed out, as it was an easy shelter with no connection to the gaseous tunnel. Supper was made up of the small sack of provisions Takis had insisted the ermine provide the group with, and all of them appreciated the variety of nuts, dried berries, and tubers which they ate boiled soft with salt (which was an extra luxury). They built up the fire as the sun sunk low in the sky, and soon even Poko could not deny that Takis would need to go soon.

As the young ermine lad lit his first torch with the campfire, Poko couldn?t keep her eyes from watering.

?Damn smoke blew right in my face.? She muttered as he approached her. She wiped at her eyes to clear them and took a deep breath. ?Well I guess this is goodbye then.?

Takis nodded somberly then leaned forward, putting his forehead to hers. The ferret broke into tears and hugged him close.

?I wish you didn?t have to go.?

?I know. Me too. But we?ll see each other again. I promise.? He leaned back and gripped both her shoulders. ?You promise too.?

?I promise.? She whispered with a single nod. ?Besides, I still have a lot of reading lessons to teach you.? She gestured at the rolls of bark sticking out of one of his side pouches.

Takis nodded with a small smile, then, looking past Poko at Vanessa, his smile faded. "I am sorry about your friend's paw."

"Yeah," Poko glanced back. "Nessa's a good beast. I can't believe she'd kill someone for no good reason. I think she let them cut her paw more to save us than out of guilt."

"Truly honorable beasts often make great sacrifices to benefit those they care about most. You've some good friends, Poko."

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean I won't miss you."

As they stood, holding paws, they both tried to ignore the fact that everyone was looking at them, even though they were pretending not to.

At long last, Takis turned to address the others. ?Goodbye, friends. Fate brought us together once, let?s pray it does so again.? He winked at Poko, then stretched the black, bird-faced mask over his white features, turned, and walked off. They watched him approach the tunnel entrance, then turn one last time and wave. Poko lifted her paw high and kept it raised, even after he vanished into the darkness.

The ferretmaid stood for some time, watching the black hole of the tunnel. Then she felt a tentatively comforting paw touch her shoulder. For a moment she wondered if Zevka had awakened, or if Nessa had come out of her shell, but when she turned she was surprised to see Nyika of all beasts. For once the wildcat seemed to be ignoring whatever voices seemed to follow her around, and was silently sympathetic. The ferret?s shoulders drooped and she sighed and pursed her lips before squinting sidelong at the cat.

?I was thinkin? of havin? a smoke?? She jerked her head toward a gray rock outcrop and left the unsaid question hanging. Nyika blinked rapidly then smiled shyly and followed the ferret over to the outcrop.

Poko settled into a comfortably smooth dip and crossed her legs, pulling the pipe case from her inner pocket. She was just stuffing some tobacco into the bowl when Nyika growled low. The wildcat was looking back toward the campfire where a certain tattooed otter was making his way toward them, holding a torch.

Poko sighed and took the pipe out of her mouth, tapping a claw to the decorative porcelain and turning to raise a brow at the otter.

?Just what are you doing here? Poko you know better than this. And how can you drag Nyika into your sins? She is pure! She should not be polluting her holy body like that.?

Nyika?s ears laid back and her lip curled. ?What I choose to do with my body is my own business, Istvan.?

At those words, Poko could not help but consider the long scabbing gash that ran across the wildcat?s face and down her neck where the stained bandages began, implying additional wounds beneath her blouse. She understood the otter?s concern for the cat?s well-being, but smoking was nowhere near the same category as self-mutilation.

"When you dirty the essence of the Mother in your body, it is not only your business. It is equivalent to a grave insult against the essential goodness of the world."

Poko rolled her eyes and rested her chin in her paw. ?It?s alright, Nyika.? She waved a paw. ?I can insult the goodness of the world by myself I guess.?

But the wildcat would not be so easily dismissed. "I think I've bled enough already to allow for this one small pleasure. Or if not - I'd gladly make the additional sacrifice." The wildcat raised her chin at the otter in challenge.

Istvan seemed taken aback. His eyes darted from the wildcat to the ferret and back again, and his nostrils flared with frustration. At last he resigned himself to defeat and shoved the torch into a crevice in the rock, sending a shower of tiny sparks down on the ferret who flinched and then tore Risk?s hat from her head, beating at her fur with some alarm.

?I cannot make either of you do the right thing, but perhaps one day soon you will understand the gravity of your actions.? He stalked away and Nyika huffed irritably. Poko watched him go with a frown and shook her head, replacing her hat crookedly with one paw.

?Why?s he have to be like that? Always judging everybeast like he expects us all to try to be perfect?? She struck her quartz and pyrite together, dropping a few sparks into the wad of tobacco. After a puff or two she was rewarded with a trail of smoke. ?And not just general perfection,? she spoke around the stem, ?but his idea of perfection.? She took a long draw and sighed the smoke slowly out through her nose before passing the pipe to Nyika.

The wildcat sucked at the pipe, blowing a stream of smoke straight up into the air that Istvan, glaring from a distance, did not miss.

?If you thought you had all the answers and knew with certainty what right and wrong were, you might be a little pushy and inflexible too. Gray is hard to deal with when your world is black and white.?

Poko nodded and reached to have the pipe back. Nyika passed it off congenially.

?At least back at the ruins I could run around and do whatever I wanted.? The ferret sighed again. ?I wish I could have just stayed.?

?Why didn?t you??

The wildcat?s blunt question caused Poko?s fur to rise slightly until she realized it wasn?t meant as an insult.

?I don?t know. I guess?I didn?t think I could?? Only now did the young ferret consider the very real possibility. She really was on her own now. These beasts had no familial connection to her. She was just an involuntary tag-along - an orphan.  She shivered. Might she have stayed? Her brow furrowed deeply and she rested her chin against her arms, holding her knees close as she took another thoughtful drag. Staying with Takis indefinitely was an attractive idea, and yet?he didn?t even know what an acorn was. How much would she miss, living in such a solitary, dying place, cut off from the rest of the world? It had been fun because it was a new and full of secrets, but once it became familiar and every-day, she was sure it would feel more like a cage: confining as the temple had been for Captain Noonahootin, who needed to stretch his wings and see the sky. ?Anyway it?s too late now,? she added at last. ?I can?t go back through that tunnel without a mask.?

She knew now why she had not seriously considered staying. She wanted to show Takis the world ? not be confined to his small one. There was so much to explore and learn, and when she saw Carrigul on the horizon, she knew it would just be the beginning.

Suddenly she realized she had been holding the pipe for a very long time, and passed if off to Nyika with a muttered apology. She was not used to sharing.

After a while the rocky outcrop grew less comfortable to sit on and Poko decided to gather some folds of Gashrock?s coat beneath her for a makeshift cushion. As she did so a crumpling sound emanated from part of the coat and the ferretmaid lifted it curiously, studying the crinkling spot carefully in the torchlight. Green thread betrayed the slit of an opening where the rat had added a hidden pocket. Poko picked at the thread, working it loose with her sharp little claws. Soon she was able to fish out the source of the crumpling ? a small folded up piece of parchment.

?Well would you look at that. If I?d known Gashrock had a piece of parchment in here I wouldn?t have had to use shredded bits of bark for Tak?s notes!? Poko slowly opened the folded paper and found it was not blank at all, but contained a long poem of sorts with bits crossed out and notes scribbled in along the edges. ?The Ballad of the Cutter,? she read aloud without thinking. Nyika?s ears perked up with keen interest.

?Ohhh, it?s that thing Gashy?s been working on with Cookie ? their big secret project.? She skimmed the words, searching to see if her name ever came up but it didn?t ? though there was a bit about Dewhurst and the road collapse, and something about Cookie going after the moles added hastily at the end.

?May I see?? Nyika offered the last of the smoldering pipe as a trade.

Poko shrugged and handed it off, sticking the pipe into her mouth as she reached into Gashrock?s secret pocket again to see if there was anything else the rat had hidden there. The tips of her claws snagged something and Poko slowly drew out a tiny draw-string pouch. She glanced at Nyika, but the wildcat was absorbed in the ballad, pupils dilated wide in the dim light. Gently she tugged the pouch open and dumped out a portion of the contents into her dark padded palm. Buttons. Lots of buttons. All were unique in some way and very beautiful. Gashrock?s own personal treasure. A wave of sadness passed over the ferretmaid and she started to pour them back in when something caught her eye. That?s no button. A small jewel glinted brightly in the torchlight. Poko couldn?t tell what kind it was, but it glittered and shimmered almost like it was alive. She spotted several more of different shades, then decided to put them away. Gashrock?s secret treasure would now be hers.

By the time Nyika looked up, the pouch was safely back in the deep recesses of Gashrock?s drooping robe. The pipe was dead and Poko was knocking the ashes out with a muted tap tap tap of her claw.

?Can I keep this?? The wildcat?s question was halted yet earnest.

Poko glanced up briefly as she unscrewed the stem of her pipe from the bowl.

?You can borrow it. How ?bout that?? She blew a short strong puff of air through the stem to clear it and used a claw to scratch out a few remaining bits of tobacco ash from the bowl.

Nyika nodded and pocketed the ballad into her skirt. Poko wondered then if she had made a mistake, seeing as Nyika had claimed communion with Cookie?s ghost while performing her self-mutilation ritual. The ferret grimaced at the thought that she might be contributing to the cat?s issues, but there was no way she could ask for the ballad back without rekindling their former hostility. She snapped the pipe kit shut and rose to her feet, stretching.

?Well ? what say we re-join the others again ? see if Zevka?s doin? any better?? Nyika agreed and stood and the two young females strolled back toward the campfire.

Abruptly Nyika gripped Poko?s arm.

?Ow! What?? The ferret was reflexively defensive.

?Sorry,? the wildcat drew back her paw quickly. ?I just realized?Gates, you don?t think Istvan is cutting for me...do you?"

Poko?s mouth formed a perfect frozen ?o? shape as Nyika?s worry translated belatedly in her mind?s eye. Istvan had bled for her before ? or at least for her father?s sins. Would he do it for something as small as a smoke? Not for me, she thought, But he would for her. There was little doubt that the fanatical otter had adopted Nyika as his own personal holy ward.

Poko closed her mouth and swallowed, raising both brows at the wildcat in silent affirmation. Nyika took off at a run and soon Poko could hear her shouting at the big otter, who merely stood and replied in his usual somber, matter-of-fact way. She realized that she did, in fact, like Istvan, despite his abrasive nature. She only wished he cared as much about her as he did Nyika?s ?purity.?

By the time she approached the space where Zevka sat it was apparent that she was awake, yet still listlessly groggy. Her words ran together and her eyes were unfocused. Vanessa was helping her drink water from a flask and it dribbled a little down her chin before she turned and threw up. Poko decided it was a bad time and changed direction toward the captain.

?Hey-ya Cap?n Hooty! How?s it goin??? The owl turned his head from looking out across the valley until his great amber eyes rested on the young ferret with a smile.

?Hello Miss Poko. How are you this evening??

?I?m good.? She replied, then reconsidered the phrase in light of Istvan?s recent accusation. ?Or at least, I?m alright. How ?bout you??

The owl stretched a leg backwards and rotated his left wing carefully. "I feel well enough. A touch stiff, as it were, but oceans better than earlier in that horrid, poisonous tunnel. Never in all my days..." The owl trailed off, mumbling to himself about the discomfort he had felt.

Poko nodded sympathetically. The ermine mask had fit over Noonahootin?s beak with some adjustments, but his eyes had to be covered with a blindfold to protect them. He had not only been cramped in a narrow tunnel for hours, but also blind. Poko could tell by the way he held his foot also that it ached from all the walking over uneven ground.

?Are we going to try to make it to Carrigul in a day and a half like that ermine said??

?Oh hoo hoo ? no, young miss. With so many of us still recovering from injuries,? he nodded at her foot, ??tis best to take it slow and get lots of rest. Three days.?

?So I was thinking?you?ve never been to Carrigul before, right?? Poko sat down next to the owl, who settled comfortably, fluffing out his feathers.

?No. And I do not imagine I will be welcomed with open arms either.?

Poko shook her head. ?No, they don?t really like Yew there. I mean?Yew the city. Not you personally.? She smirked at the unintentional play on words.

The owl smirked wryly. ?I shall have to dispose of my blue cloak. It is the very least of what I can do to protect all of us once inside the city.?

?You?re pretty well-known though, right? I mean as a captain of Yew and all. Don?t you think somebeast might recognize you? I mean you gotta admit, you?ve got some pretty?distinguishing features.? She smirked when the great feathery eyebrows lifted in response.

?What, precisely, are you suggesting, Miss Poko??

?A disguise,? she shrugged simply. ?I?m pretty good with disguises. Sometimes, in our line of work, it was important to be able to disappear in a crowd. Or hide in plain sight.? She smiled, remembering some of her favorite identity swaps and the chumps that fell for them.

?It would indeed be a trick to lose me in a crowd.? The captain admitted.

?So we make you look like a totally different owl!? Poko lifted her paws as though it was as easy as that. Noonahootin looked dubious.

?Hey ? better than hiding in a tree by yourself for weeks or walking in and getting captured or shot by the first guard who recognizes you, wouldn?t you say? This way you can be with us and sleep with a proper roof over your head and?do whatever else it is you want to do.?

"How would you plan on turning me into a different owl?" Noonahootin chuckled doubtfully, betraying curiosity as he combed his mustache with a talon.

?Well, I?m not sure, but I think I?ve seen owls that look like you before, but without the long ear feathers and the big moustache. They had more black around their eyes too, I think?and less orange.?

?That would be the short-eared owl,? Noonahootin confirmed. ? We are very different, actually. Short-ears are ground-dwellers. They leave their young exposed to all types of dangers while we long-ears keep ours high and out of harm?s way in safe, comfortable tree roosts. Theirs is a strange way of life.? The older owl sniffed haughtily.

?Well, can you pretend to be one at least? Do they have an accent? Can you do an accent? It might help.?

The owl seemed affronted at the implication. ?Whoo-what? Why of course! I was nominated the highest thespian award at the Golden Oak Pavilion in my youth, you know! Accents are easy. Hurrumph.?

?Oh yeah?? It was Poko?s turn to look dubious. ?Let me hear one.?

?What, right now?? The owl straightened.

?Now you?re just stalling.?

?Oh fine. Harumph ? ahem. Vat eez dees ?Yeuw? you speak? I haff no knowledge auf deez place.?

The ferret broke into a fit of giggles and carried on until the owl scout looked quite insulted.

?Oh that?s perrrrfect! I had no idea you had it in you, Captain!? Poko grinned and wiped a joyous tear from her eye. ?I think we?ve got this.?