Melodies of Life, Love's Lost Refrain

[Revel]

It had been very sad, Deadtail's demise. Or it would have been, if Revel had cared for the rat. She hadn't.

They'd left his body in the twisting passageways where the Srechrrl came from. There had been some dissent - nobeast liked the idea of feeding one of their own, dead or not, to the monsters in the dark. But the Fritterik had insisted, and in a way, it was logical. They could have sent him down the river, or buried him in the mushroom cellars, where the soil was soft and could use the nutrients. Delaying the next attack by providing their enemies with a sacrificial offering was seen to be the better choice.

Hardly an hour after the unceremonious dumping of his corpse, Revel was clapping her paws in glee. Somebeast had the presence of mind to rid Deadtail of his clothing, and Zhipzi had acquired them and brought them to Revel's chamber. The stoat had holed herself up, refusing to come out until she had a dress or was at the very least decent in some manner, and her tunic was nearly in ribbons.

Zhipzi was proving herself to be a weasel of many talents; under her tiny paws, Revel's old tunic had become a skirt, and Deadtail's was being transformed into a simple sleeveless top. The fabric was drab and of a loathsome colour, but Revel had to admit it was better than nothing at all. If it came to it, she could wear her headscarf around her neck for more eye-catching effect.

"I could do it," Revel said, trying to grab the rusted needle from the weasel. Zhipzi hissed and gave Revel a bop on the head. The stoat sat back and sulked.

"Zhipzi gonna do good," the weasel affirmed. "Vivkvi Rivvil make string!"

Zhipzi babbled on as they worked. Revel offered interjections here or there, but soon fell into the habit of ignoring her every time the words "pritter" or "pratcha" came up. She had made it clear that Zhipzi's brood were not allowed anywhere near her, so the weasel had settled for telling stories about them: like the time Zizzip had tried to eat a rock, or the time Michi had eaten a worm. As if the tales of offspring weren't bad enough, the only other element in them had to do with eating.

When enough cloth had been pulled apart for string, Revel got up and paced the short hallway between chamber and ledge, impatient and unclothed.

Though she had attended breakfast - warily, after last night's pains - she had missed mid-afternoon tea, and those addled-minded corsairs had not thought to bring her anything back. Nor had any of the strange cave beasts. Even Rath seemed to have forgotten her. He had probably never liked her in the first place, she decided. None of them wanted anything to do with her.

Which was fine. She didn't need them anyhow. Deadtail's death had proved the futility of forming lasting bonds; she had liked the rat from their brief meeting. He had seemed astute. And now he was dead. She was better off keeping to herself, as always. Flitting from group to group as she saw fit, as was necessary to survive from day to day.

She really didn't need anyone.

Except... well... a nice handsome hob would be nice.

"Is done!" Zhipzi declared. Revel turned away from the entrance and nearly tore the fabric in two again just snatching it from Zhipzi's grasp.

"'ow do I put it on?" There were straps and dangly parts. Revel couldn't tell which side was up.

Zhipzi patiently took it back and held the bottom open for Revel to poke her head through. Tugging it down and smoothing it into place was, without a doubt, the highlight of Revel's week. Five different strips of left-over cloth hung down all around the hem.

Zhipzi then held up the skirt fore her to step into. They managed to hitch it a quarter way up Revel's stomach, whereupon Zhipzi instructed Revel to hold it there while she pulled the top's straps through slits cut into the waistline of the skirt.

The finished product fit wonderfully. Revel wagged her hips side-to-side, shuddering with delight at the unfamiliar feel of the skirt rustling against her legs and tail. Zhipzi gave a squeak as she was suddenly embraced; the weasel's eyes bulged as her lungs collapsed.

"See Nivard now?" Zhipzi wheezed, as Revel whirled about the fire in the middle of the room, dancing to unheard music.

"Who?" the stoat asked, giving a curtsy to the wall. "Oh! Nivard..." Revel stuck her tongue out and nodded decisively. "I'm sure 'e'll love it! I'm goin' to go show Rath an' Venril an' Keane!"

Halfway back to the main hall, the stoat's pace slowed as she remembered. He'd died. Right...

"Revel?"

"Keane!" she cried, delighted for once that her memory's tricks were simply such. She twirled for him, holding up the hem of her skirt so as not to get it dusty.

"Um, no," he said, stepping into the light of a nearby torch. "Rath. Sorry."

Revel stopped dead. She frowned at the ferret in the wildcat's coat.

"Oh." She nodded at the stone platter in his paws. "What's that?"

He held it up to the light. "I didn't see you come down to eat. I thought I'd bring you up something. It's mostly fish - er, hantz. Again."

"You... were thinkin' of me?"

"Well, yes... We have to look out for each-other down here. You're one of us." Us, Revel vaguely recalled, was Eliza, Rath, Keane, and herself; everybeast who had been shanghaied aboard Matukhana's ship from that tavern. "I'm not going to let anything happen to Eliza or you."

"I wonder," Revel said suddenly, "if there's such a thing as brkich grog!"

Rath grinned. "Maybe. Here, take this from me, would you?"

Revel spun around again and fluttered her eyelids in what she considered to be a coy manner. "First tell me my new dress is beautiful!"

"It's beautiful," Rath sighed, squinting at it. "Now do you want this hantz or not?"

Revel snatched the platter, nearly dropping it in the process. It was heavier than the ferret made it look. Her whiskers lifted happily, then slowly drooped as a familiar clinking noise grew louder.

"Ah, Rath, there you are!"

And there was Venril! Revel tried to wiggle at him, but it was difficult with the platter in her arms. The male stoat's eyes paused on her, then quickly shifted to Rath.

"Are we up for another session yet?"

Rath heaved a sigh. "I suppose."

"Who died?" Revel asked, sniffing curiously.

Venril jerked a few inches behind Rath. "What?"

"His name was Deadtail," Rath said.

"Right," Venril said. "Deadtail died. A shame."

"You smell like blood," Revel said, her nose pointing accusingly at Venril. Venril's armour polish had worn off somewhat, and no longer invaded the spot between her eyes with its stabbing scent. And in its place, there was something strong and musky, mixed in with traces of blood, sweat and dust.

"You do," Rath said, sniffing. The ferret looked down at the runty stoat in surprise. "Not still your own?"

Blushing furiously so that his russet cheekfur turned maroon, Venril stammered something unintelligible.

Revel's smiled. "I like it."

Both males turned and stared at her.

"Is my dress pretty?" she asked, doing her best to flick her tail playfully towards Venril in lieu of being able to twirl properly. She held back a wince as bruised bones twitched.

"Excuse us for a moment," Venril replied blandly, gesturing for Rath to follow him away.

Revel waited a moment, but instead of pausing out of ear-shot, they kept going until they turned a corner and were out of sight. She stuck her tongue out after them and flounced further down the tunnel.

She made it down to the main floor without dropping the platter, and headed directly for the long trestle tables. As usual, there were dozens of Fritterik gathered about picking at whatever had been left over from the last meal. Revel shoved aside an over-eager young rat who had taken it into his head that she was delivering more food for them, and sat down quickly to dig in herself.

Queasiness steadied paw and jaw; the jigs and twirls she had flaunted so readily had taken a toll on her in the form of a wicked ache deep in her stomach. Revel forced herself to think of off-kilter brkich and stale hantz - but still the mental imagery of tiny, pink, grubby stoats sitting inside her abdomen gnawing at her organs prevailed.

She pushed the platter away. A few seconds later, she drew it back, too hungry to let such horrors win. The hantz was cold, but delicious and greasy as ever.

Her ears pricked; two tables away, a cluster of young Fritterik had gathered around the robin that Matukhana had found. Revel divided her attention between picking away the bones of her meal and listening. At first she thought there to be an older beast present in the circle, but spying none, she came to realize it was the robin itself supplying them with the lilting music.

The words were hard to make out, but the melody was clear. Every so often they would be punctuated by flits and slices of whistling; these echoed immediately by some of the more crafty of the audience in their own chirping tongue.

Strange as it was to see a bird underground, Revel found his music to be stranger. This was not the babbling she knew in the woods. This was structured, complex, and above all...

Beautiful.

She moved her food a table closer, eying the young Fritterik warily. If one so much as dared come near her, she'd punt it across the cave, she swore to herself. And yet it was hard to stay angry at them with the robin's sweet trilling echoing throughout the cavern.

Revel finished her food and turned to rest her back against the edge of the table, stretching her legs out in front of her. She could only just see her footpaws bobbing along.

"Oh maiden so voluptuous, did thou," the bird said, flapping his wing into the crowd to clear a path between he and Revel, "begin to gently hum, this moment now? Perhaps if you could share a song so well, you would allow this bird to rest a spell."

It turned slightly and threw a wink to the crowd as they applauded his rhyme.

Revel stared. Clear as daylight, she understood it's - his? - words. A bird of song, a bird! When had she last tasted bird? Those pitiful meals on the ship. Before that, the egg fallen during the storm. Her hunger had been waylaid by the hantz just now, but the craving for a juicy gobful of proper meat caused her to lick her lips clean of drool.

There was no point in talking to woodlanders. They didn't listen, they didn't have anything important to say back. Replying to a bird was the very notion of insanity. She might as well talk to her own stomach!

After a few seconds' thought, Revel shook her head.

"Surely you know a tune to entertain these restless creatures for a spell? The one-eyed hog knew it also. A lullaby, was it not?"

They were staring at her now, all their beady black little eyes. Revel threw a piece of fishbone at one particularly goobly-mouthed ferret.

"You sing," she said. "I don't know 'ow."

"A lullabye it is," Damask sighed. "Hopefully to put these cretins to sleep."

And as the robin began, Revel's jaw fell slack. She could not believe it - within seconds, the roiling within her had calmed! Sitting perfectly still, the stoat slid her paws between the gaps in her garb and rubbed at her soft tummy fluff.

Never you fear, my dear little ones,
Mother is here now beside you
Come keep you close, ever so warm,
Never let dark nightfall fright' you.

She was transported back to the forest, back to the oak before the storm. She'd been running from somebeast, she no longer knew whom, but she remembered how sick she had felt then. She had wondered if the vole had been a bad idea. Rubbing and talking to herself had cured it then, and now...

For I shall not leave, long as you live,
I'll not let fears overtake you.
No I'll keep you close, close to my heart
So feel as my love warms you through.

It was listening. They were listening. An icy dread gripped her, though its claws were softened by the magic of the moment. It was warm; how did the bird's voice do that to her?

Your father's been gone, for twentylong nights
I know that you're pining for his voice.
He'd banish these fears, and laugh 'way your tears,
Together we'd revel in his joys.

Revel opened her mouth - not to sing, but to correct his pronunciation - then snapped it shut again. She supposed pronunciation didn't matter if he couldn't even make contextually proper use of her name. "We'd"? That didn't make even a lick of sense. Stupid birds.

But he's not come back, nor banished the night
It's hollow here without his laughter.
But I'll hold you close and never let go.
When you wake, we'll still be together.

Revel stared blankly at the table-top.

"Keep singin'," she whispered to the bird, and he paused a moment to heed her. "Don't stop singin'... please. Do another one!"

"One more," Damask said, clacking his beak in annoyance. "Then I really must break for food."

She closed her eyes then, and let the melody flood her like water, filling her ears like the oasis pool had. The world grew distant and weary, the noise blurred and dimmed, but the melody still trickled through, driven on by the drum beats -

One heart. Clear as an autumn sky, each delicate thump keeping time to the poetry.

Two hearts, throwing the beat off.

Three hearts. An intermittent thrum.

Four hearts. A constant hum in her blood.

And then just one heart. She was sure of it. Night terrors and superstitious weasels be fletched!

Revel opened her eyes, took the stone platter in front of her, and threw it at the crowd of young Fritterik, sending them scattering. The stoat's smile was full of fangs as she strutted off, flicking her skirt side to side with her paws.

"Everybeast is a critic," Damask sighed, and pecked at a stray chunk of hantz.

* * * * * *

Revel allowed herself to calm down before going off in search of more beasts to impress with her new clothes. It took some time. Her paws were soaked, but she'd kept her skirts dry, and now her cheeks were extra spiky from their salted shower. Her hiccups had ceased.

She found Matukhana conversing with one of his crewbeasts, and danced around them.

"What do you think? Is it pretty?" she asked. "Is it pretty?"

"Pretty stupid," the searat guffawed. "Pretty fat!" His Captain cuffed him around the ear. "Owww..."

"Leave us be," Matuhkana growled. "Don't you have a stew pot to attend to?"

"I'm not 'ungry right now," Revel replied. She sauntered away blindly, her nose stuck up in the air and arms folded.

Something squeaked as she bumped into it.

"You!"

"Me?"

Bringing her nose down to see who it was, Revel spotted the dark shape of a squirrel limping away.

"Wait! Tell me my dress is pretty!"

"Don't eat meee!" Birch wailed, darting into a tunnel.

"Who's eatin' who?" Greenfang the weasel pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against. "Wot was that about?"

"Greenfang!" Revel spun again, undoing her headscarf to whirl it above her head like a dancer's streamer. "Look, isn't it beautiful? It's got a skirt an' a top! Different colors!"

The only reply was the old weasel's snerking as he shuffled off towards the warmth of the cooking huts.

"Fine!" Revel screamed, stomping her footpaws so hard that they went temporarily numb. "Fine! You're all so stupid! I'll show my dress t'somebeast who appreciates beauty!"