Campfire Colloquy

[Balmafula]

Or Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with an Owl (And a Toad)

A collaborative post by the top nine

Pale morning light illuminated the persistent suffusion of gray clouds that hovered gloomily above the mountain range between Carrigul and Yew. Eight of the chilled survivors huddled close around a fire within the protective rock walls of their small cave, hidden in the side of the vast, snowy mountain. They warmed their paws, trying to stave off the cold, rubbing them in an attempt to stimulate their sluggish circulation. Some, like the pine marten, wildcat, and younger otter sat close to one another, sharing their body heat, while others seemed to be surrounded by an invisible "no beasts land" as were the toad and tattooed otter guard. The two bandaged ferrets were comfortably close, and the owl, largest of them all, sat with his feathers fluffed in the entrance to keep as much of the heat inside the cave as possible. The rat, the ninth member of the group, joined those encircling the fire after tossing an armful of scavenged wood onto the embers. She sat with a grunt between the otter, Vanessa, and the ferrets.

"Not much dry wood out there anymore. That's the last of the cart." Gashrock handed the hatchet she had borrowed back to the pine marten, Zevka.

"You didn't happen to find any salt, did you?" Nyika asked.

Gashrock scratched her head. "No, why? There ain't nuthin' to eat."

"Oh, no reason," Nyika said, sounding disappointed.

There was silence as the fire crackled and popped anew, then, sticking her nose out of her coat of fake hedgehog quills, the younger ferret, Poko, looked around.

"Well, I wish there was something to eat. I'm so hungry. And tired. Somebeast kept caterwauling all night." She shot a glare at Nyika.

The wildcat seemed to shrink within herself, ears pinned back as her shoulders hunched in a meek apology. Her eyes were kept downcast towards the flames as she chewed self-consciously on a feather.

"Oh, leave her alone," said Zevka.

"Yes, Miss Nyika has had a rather rough night," said the owl captain, Noonahootin.

"And you think I didn't?" Poko griped. "Why is everybeast mollycoddling her like she's some invalid?"

"Please," said Nyika, "I'm sorry ? I just had a nightmare last night. Nothing more. It was just a nightmare. I'm sorry if I disturbed anybeast."

"Last night was a nightmare for everybeast," said Poko, her tone low. Risk's paw rose up behind her head, hovering as if about to clip her ear, before it settled back on his stomach.

"There, there, Miss Nyika. We cannot help what is in our dreams," said Noonahootin comfortingly. "Only wake from them."

"'An? what was it aboot, Nyika?" Vanessa asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Nyika muttered.

"Och, come on, lassie," the otter leaned forward, her features alert. "Ah'm curious!"

"As am I," said the tattooed otter guard, Istvan, now joining in. "One can only marvel at the words the All Mother speaks to you in the throes of slumber."

Nyika huffed, hunching her shoulders as her tail twitched, ears pinned to the back of her head. There was a moment's silence before she began.

"I was here in the cave, alone. Nobeast else was around. The fire had died to embers. Behind me at the entrance I could see stars and the moon, but over there, at the back of the cave, it was just darkness."

Nyika pointed. Everybeast turned their head to look at the the rear of the cave. Almost unnoticed until now was a crack in the rock wall, a vertical chasm of pitch black. 

"I don't know why, but I felt this overwhelming sense of terror. I couldn't do anything, couldn't move, couldn't speak?"

"?But you could scream," said Zevka.

Nyika nodded. "I think the dead were opening a portal into Hellgates ? to let loose the condemned." 

Poko started, as did a few others. There was an unmistakable red glow in the deepest reaches of the darkness within the crack. It was a mere flash, gone as soon as it registered in their minds.

Vanessa shook her head roughly.

?Rubbish an? poppycocks, ain?t nothin? oot there, mates. ?Tis jus? the back of a cave!?

Poko tugged at the bigger ferret?s kilt. Risk sighed and stood up.

"Where are you going?" said Zevka. "You don't seriously think?"

"I ain't thinkin' nothin' until I see somethin'," said Risk. "I'll be back."

"'Thinking nothing'," the marten scoffed, "Well, I'd be the first to suggest that?" She let her comment trail off at the silent request of everybeast's tense expressions.

They held their breaths, ears perked to the sound of the ferret's pawsteps. They grew too quiet to discern from the cracking of the burning wood.

"Cookie?" Gashrock called nervously.

There was no reply.

Then, distant and distorted, a gurgling moan erupted from the crack: "Grrraaaaa ? OOROOOWWWOOGLE ? ooooawwwgh?"

Poko leapt into Gashrock's lap, musking a little. The rat shoved her off in disgust. Nyika yelped and held her ears flat against her head, and the otters shared a look that was perhaps the first kindred thing between them apart from their species.

"Keep calm, keep calm!" Noonahootin shouted, his good wing spread wide while his gouged face twisted into forced dauntlessness. "We must stand firm! Hold the line!" He hooted frantically a few times, a warning noise that grew steadily in volume with every note.

"It ? it could've not been Cookie," said Gashrock. "I mean, I seen beasts go up against 'im in a bar brawl, right, an' they ne'er?"

"Something comes forth from the abyss!" Noonahootin was squinting, his normally wide eyes mere slits upon his face.

Risk returned, squeezing sideways through the crack once more. He was picking his nose, looking very disinterested in the whole ordeal.

"Ain't nothin' there," he said, admiring his pine-nettle-infused booger for a moment before flicking it away. "Stop scarin' the kit, cat."

"Och, but jus' what was that blitherin? noise then?" Vanessa blurted.

"Ah?? Oh. I guess that was me."

"What in Hellgates would you do that for?!" Zevka demanded.

The ferret grinned. "Thought it'd be good for a laugh. Lighten up!"

The side of the marten's mouth twitched slightly in a hint of a smile.

"Well, I had a nightmare, too," Poko announced, straightening her back and raising her voice. "It was me, here in this very cave, strangling some wildcat until she couldn't speak anymore. Actually, it wasn't really a nightmare so much as a really good dream." She finished with a self-appreciative snicker.

"Hey!" said Zevka, giving Poko a stern glance. "Let's not make this any tougher on Nyika than it already is!"

"Yeah, yeah." Poko rolled her eyes. "Poor Nyika."

"We need to stay focused here. We're all trapped in this mess together; let's not make things worse."

"So how do you suggest we make things 'better?'" Poko asked with a distinct lack of contrition.

"Well, we need to take stock of our supplies, figure out how to get more of them, figure out how to keep the toad warm, and decide whether we're going to Carrigul or Yew." The marten leaned forward. "I don't know about all of you, but I was on this trip for a reason. My friend is in Carrigul, and I don't think he's staying there on his own accord. I need to get there and find him before something happens to him. I say we keep going."

"If you haven't been to Carrigul, it's a trek," said Gashrock, glancing at Risk and then back to the fire. "And that's with a decent stock of food and movin' fast cause yer not all torn up. I wouldn't chance it."

"The pine marten is, hrrf, right," said Noonahootin. The owl rumbled for a moment, as if in thought, before he  continued. "First and foremost, we must take stock of our supplies. Warm clothes, medicine and bandages, tools, and?"

HRRK. CHIIIK. HUURRRRRGUCK!

Noonahootin started sputtering, reeling back and stretching his neck out, talons grinding into the cave floor. He choked for what seemed like a solid few minutes until finally, something small, round, black, and fuzzy came shooting out of his beak and into the fire. Everybeast flinched at the sudden shower of sparks and embers.

"Ahem. Food is a high priority," he continued nonchalantly, brushing his breast feathers off. "We all of us need to eat."

"? Whut was that?" Gashrock squinted suspiciously up at the owl from across the fire, her pointed features glowing orange and sinister in the dancing light.

"My last meal," Noonahootin smiled, "Come back to haunt me." He chuckled, leaning over to nudge Nyika with his wing. She did not share the humor and merely moped harder. He sighed, deflating.

"Eeeeiw?it's a skull!" Poko jabbed a claw toward the fire where the gob of fur had burned away to reveal a hollow-eyed skull with long rodent's incisors. The ferret gave Gashrock a significant look, then grimaced at Noonahootin. The rat, however, seemed unfazed.

"You'd better not be wastin' so much of yer food, we don't have enough for that?"

"Hrrr-hmm! All owls cough up pellets," he explained politely, eyes fixed on Poko. "A pellet is what remains of our meals after eating."

"Isn't it supposed to come out the other end?" Poko's lip curled in disgust.

Risk barked a laugh at this.

Noonahootin simply shrugged. His head swiveled to each and every one of the small assembly as he tapped a talon in a contemplative manner. "We may not be able to go back for some time, until that damnable white heathen takes her leave of the territory. We either leave for Yew now or we can stay here, nursing our wounds in the warmth of this cave while a scavenging party finds us supplies. Once my wing is good enough to get me to Yew on the winds, I will send help."

Everybeast was silent, contemplating, perhaps, the role they would play in this plan. Noonahootin took a deep breath.

"Or we press on to Carrigul. What Missus Gashrock says is true; the journey is long, it is hard, and we are sorely under-supplied. I cannot recommend this endeavor. We are too outmatched. If some of you wish to leave and head forward, know that your chances of getting to your destination are slim. I suggest we all stay together.?

"We have more chance of reaching Carrigul alive than we do of staying here."

It was the toad, Goragula, whom they knew as Greenfleck. Until now he had been watching them in silence, though any glances cast his way would have revealed that he had been growing steadily more irate with their fruitless prattle. He gestured at Noonahootin's bad wing.

"You don't know how long it will take your wing to heal. It could be days, or weeks. Maybe it will get worse. Winter's a harsh mistress. Until then, are we supposed to sit in this cave, steadily running out of food and water? It would be better to move onwards, where we'd at least have the forest to scavenge from."

"May as well go back to Yew, then," said Risk.

Goragula gave an impatient grunt. "It's too open. That owl will be able to see us from miles away."

"Aye, an' she'd see us leavin' her domain. Unless she's plain mad, she'd have no reason to attack us. We left plenty of ? food out there for her to have taken her fill by now. For all we know, she was attackin' the Captain here because he's competition for all that. Or mayhap it's just territorial. Females are odd." The ferret looked about. "Pardonin' present company."

"Thanks, Risk," Zevka drawled.

Goragula grunted again.

"At any rate, we need to actually look for supplies instead of sitting here talking about them."

Risk nodded. "Aye. Definitely. If there?s anything buried out there we need to find it, harfang or no." The burly ferret rose to his feet, "I'll go. An' Greenflick ? since you're so interested an' we make such a great team, you best come too. You're probably the finest digger out of the lot of us?and not half bad at savin' your own scaly hide. If that damnable white owl comes lookin' for us you can live to tell everybeast how I went down fightin'."

"Lizards have scales, you ignorant halfwit," Goragula said.

"Lizard. Frog. Same difference. You comin' or not?"

"That was the idea." The toad stood up.

"I shall accompany you as a lookout," announced Noonahootin. "My wing may not be in the best of shape, but I can at least fly to a high branch and set up a post there."

The ferret and toad grunted their assent.

"I shall join you as well," said Istvan, making to stand.

"No!" Two discouraging voices shouted simultaneously. Noonahootin and Vanessa had both reacted at once.

The otter continued her protest. "Ye'll no' be any use oot there?ye?d only be slowin? 'em doon, cuttin' ev'ry throat ye coom across."

Istvan looked to his senior officer, plainly ignoring Vanessa's accusation.

Noonahootin shook his head, "Not this time, Corporal. I need you and Guardsbeast Vanessa to stay and defend those who remain here. You are the main force. We, on the other claw, are but a small scouting party."

The tattooed otter settled back on the floor, albeit with some disgruntlement.

"I might join you later." Zevka nodded at the trio. "In the meantime, give us a shout if you need any help."

"If you hear me shout, I'm already dead," said Risk, flashing her a winsome wink. "In which case, Nyika gets my knife. Poko gets my hat."

"Why does she get the knife?" Poko pouted.

Her question was only answered by the chill breeze that rolled in as Noonahootin?s bulk left the entrance to the cave. Risk and Goragula climbed down after him. The remaining six beasts shivered.



Poko licked her lips, casting a look around, as if searching for something. She felt her chest up and down until she found a lump in her inner pocket and reached in, pulling out a small velvet case. Carefully she parted the case at the hinges, revealing her tiny little pipe and striker set. She drew a tiny pouch from another inner pocket and pinched out some brown tobacco, stuffing it carefully into the small, intricately carved porcelain bowl.

Istvan leaned forward and stared at the pipe as if he did not comprehend what his eyes were telling him.

"You are not actually intending to smoke that, I hope."

The ferret looked up, surprised, holding the pipe between her knees, paws freezing mid-air with the little pyrite and quartz strikers.

"Wha? Why?what's it to you?"

"Forcing toxic smoke in to your body? You are poisoning the essence of the All-Mother within you; corrupting the very blood that flows through your veins."

"Where'dja hear that mumbo jumbo? It's just a little tobacco?nothing' toxic." She struck the two pieces together over the bowl a couple of times.

"May I?" Nyika perked up at the tap of the strikers.

"Not you, too." Istvan gave a disapproving look.

The wildcat shrugged. "Everybeast dies. Might as well take the simple pleasures while you can. Besides, it helps soothe my nerves." She gave the young ferret a hopeful look.

Poko looked insulted at the request. "No, you cannot." Evidently it was a one-ferret pipe. The wildcat seemed to melt away after that.

"A searat told me it was bad luck," said Gashrock.

"My great grampapa smoked all his life and he lived to be really old. That doesn't sound so unlucky to me!" Poko sucked at the end as a few sparks fell into the bowl.

"Yeah, well, how big was he ever?" Gashrock asked, watching the trail of smoke.

"I'm not one to base my life decisions on a giant invisible entity that nobeast can see," said Zevka, "but I just can't help thinking of this one thing I saw once: When Mekad?the friend in Carrigul?and I were in the horde, we had a building catch fire. Fourteen beasts died, only two of burns. The others all breathed in too much smoke. I watched a healer cut into one of the ones killed by smoke?his lungs were not pretty."

"Yeah, but that's like ? bad black smoke. This is to-bac-co. Beasts have smoked it for years." She shrugged and took a puff, smiling. A few feet away, Gashrock tried to turn away from the smell of smoke with some agitation.

"Can you breathe it?" demanded Istvan, beginning to rise from the floor. "It strangles you from the inside, choking the very life of the All-Mother out of you. Your grandfather may have lived long, but he will not have had a happy afterlife."

Zevka cut in. "And you know this, how? We don't know anything about Poko's grandfather. He could have been a great beast, or an awful one, or just one of those beasts who isn't very good or very bad."

"'Course I can breath it. That's the whole idea! Sounds like you never got past the first try," said Poko knowingly. "Everybeast chokes and coughs at their first try, but then you're alright after that."

"Also, why would an earth goddess make a plant that sends you to Hellgates?" The pine marten continued. "What's the point?"

"Why should she not? It is up to us to choose to indulge in it or not."

Poko seemed to relax as the smoke curled up through her nostrils and wafted up to the cave ceiling. She sat with her legs crossed, elbows resting against them and watched the two beasts debate meditatively. Suddenly she straightened, as if just hearing Zevka's earlier remark.

"Wait?Zevka, you were in a horde?" She squinted at the pine marten, her mouth turning up in a smirk.

""Yes, for years. Mekad and I met at Stevat Academy?this nice little boarding school for vermin kits. Very old fashioned sort of place, too?fencing and spear-fighting classes by torchlight every night, that sort of thing.  His uncle Stekpo had two things Mekad needed: a horde, and a lack of heirs. Mekad didn't really have anyplace else to go, and I went with him."

"Swords and spear-fighting? Keen!" Poko's eyes danced at the thought.

Vanessa looked vaguely troubled as she glanced at Zevka, but her voice was still nonchalant.

"Ah dinnae know ye'd been in a horde?"

"It makes so much sense. That's where she learned to value the lives of beasts so little." Istvan remarked with some antipathy.

"Little like me?" The small ferret chirped mischievously.

"Ach, leave 'er alone," said Vanessa, defending her friend, "Ye left the horde, right Zevka?" The end of her sentence rose with a hopeful note.

"Weeeellllll ? I'm not in it right now, am I? And I'll not have you thinking this was the kind of horde that you grew up hearing stories about! We didn't have slaves and we weren't always killing each other off for power. Stekpo's mum and dad conquered a bunch of stuff when Stekpo was a kit. When Stekpo grew up, they gave him part of their holdings."

"Oh aye, right ye are," said Vanessa, still looking perturbed.

"You make it sound so civilized," the tattooed otter sneered, "but it's all about killing beasts, in the end. Did you make sure those slaughtered in the wars were 'evil'? Did you spare the 'good'? You think yourself so superior to me, but I do not hide behind a guise of imaginary distinctions."

Zevka's eyes narrowed further. "Yes, I've killed beasts, but anybeast I've killed had already decided to kill me, or somebeast I care about. I don't go around chopping beasts any time I think they've violated the edicts of my imaginary friend."

"Oooooh?" Somebeast voiced a verbal wince at the obvious baiting. The beasts encircling the fire watched to see Istvan's reaction to the pine marten's inciting return. The otter seemed affronted, but remained controlled.

"And why do you think yourself so high and mighty that your very life is sacred? You think that because these beasts attack you that makes them 'evil', but in their own mind they are doing a great good. Without an objective source of morality, it inevitably spirals down into chaos, with every beast allowed to attack the others for the pettiest of reasons. The Mother is the giver of life, and it is by her will and her will alone that it should be taken."

"Oh? How convenient that the 'objective source of morality' that we're all supposed to follow is one where you're the beast in charge.  I may be ambitious, but at least I'm honest with myself about it. I don't go around pretending that beasts are under divine obligation to do what I tell them to. And I didn't say anything about evil. Any living thing that wants to stay that way defends itself."

"I am not in charge, I simply follow the teachings of the High Priestess. The system would be unfair if I expected you all to do what I myself would or could not, but I have lived according to the will of the Mother all my life. And so should you."

"Oy, hold on," Gashrock cut in. "Wotsit, an 'objective source of more-ality'? Where d'you get one? Is it bigger than a breadbox? Cheaper than a bottle of grog?"

"Grog?blech!" Zevka pulled a face, then straightened up, folded her arms, and gazed sternly down her muzzle at Gashrock, adopting a rather officious-sounding voice. "Now that, venal sinner, is a true abomination against all that is sacred!"

"At least on grog, we can agree." Istvan wrinkled his muzzle, equally disgusted.

Vanessa snickered at Zevka?s acting. ?Ach, ?tis nae sae bad. Though Ah prefer ale bah a long shot.?

"I could go for a bottle of grog," Nyika said, her eyes lighting up at the prospect.

"How do you figure that out, though?" Gashrock asked. "It tastes good. Or do you lot just have more expensive drinks?"

"Hey, I'm a pine marten. We're expected to like damson wine," said Zevka sagely.

"You ain't expected to by everybeast, though." Gashrock nodded at Istvan, awaiting his reasoning. He obliged.

"Alcohol is a poison to the blood. I do not sully the Mother's handiwork with it."

"Ugh ? is everything fun poison to you?" Poko rolled her eyes through a thin haze of smoke swirling about her head.

Istvan stood up and spread his paws wide.

"You say that everything fun is poison, but that only tells me that you are inexperienced with the true joy that comes in the embrace of the Mother. Love, duty, and life. That is what we revel in."

"Hey, you make it sound like all we do is carouse! I'm all about a good book every now and then?and, uh, using little figurines to re-enact the battles in them." Zevka glanced around in the sustained silence. "Nobeast else does that but me?"

"Then keep those delights, but cast off that which brings ruin on to the Mother's gift."

"Good books ain't delightin'," said Gashrock. "Good books are rubbish. Bad books are delightin'."

Zeka's ear twitched. She looked like she wanted to say something, but had thought better of it.

"I never did get to read any books?" Poko sighed. "But my Papa told lots of great stories!"

"I remember yer Papa's stories," Gashrock nodded. "They were great."

"The Invariably Invincible Vincent McTaggart versus the Twelve Seers!" Poko crowed happily.

"I haven't heard that one in a long time!" Zevka grinned at the little ferret.

"What's it about?" Vanessa asked.

Poko began to jabber excitedly.

"It's about an invincible otter who kills whole armies and can't be killed. The great Lord of the Horde gathers together his twelve best advisers and asks each one for their advice on how to kill 'im, and they all come up with plans (like drownin' an starvin' and disease), but they all fail and get killed until the last one!"

"Was this last adviser a pine marten?"

"Oh," the ferret frowned apologetically at Zevka. "No, sorry?she was an otter. She killed him by breaking his heart. Didn't you say you'd heard it before?"

"Yeah ? I forgot that bit."

"My Papa told it great. He was the best storyteller?" Poko's mouth quivered and she fell silent. She tapped the ashes from her pipe and put it away after polishing it lovingly with her sleeve. After that, the ferret seemed to be having trouble breathing. She lurched away several paces and curled up behind a rock, disappearing once again into her hedgehog coat.

Zevka, witnessing this obvious distress, went to check on her.

Gashrock spat into the fire.

"Sure hope those three find some pro-vi-shuns soon. Never got a chance to eat ruddy lunch yesterday, let alone supper."