#with his teeth trying to scratch an itch on the back of his hindleg

[actual-changeling]

listen i love snake crowley so much and it's perfect in so many ways but i cannot stop thinking about crowley as a black cat.

he still sprawls and inconveniences everyone trying to walk past him even when sitting on a chair. obviously he has the same eyes—his eyes—that glint like a sky full of stars in the dark. a tiny, pink, distantly heart-shaped spot on his otherwise dark nose. short, sleek fur that is soft and shimmers in the sun, and his claws are sharp as anything and a pearling white.

crowley keeps his tattoo, more or less, but instead of a snake it's the tail of a little cat that likes to lounge on top of his ear.

he loves sunbathing in the bookshop or finding small spaces on the shelves to squish himself into, and if you think he cannot scare away customers as a cat—he absolutely can. someone tries to buy a book and next thing they know a cat that really should not be that big is threatening to sink their claws into their hand and growling loud enough to feel it in your chest. (it's also easier to follow aziraphale around outside as a cat, it draws significantly less attention than a big snake slithering on the sidewalk)

sometimes he hangs around aziraphale's neck like a shawl and his angel has to make sure he balances him out at all times or he will get four paws clinging to him and digging their claws into his clothes so he doesn't fall. but he also gets crowley curling up in his lap while he reads, one hand holding the book, the other lazily stroking and petting him.

when he loses control a little while in human form he purrs (usually around aziraphale and boy is that embarrassing) or hisses, gets incredibly sharp nails, fangs, etc. he always walks super quietly and aziraphale threatens to put a bell on him when one time he unintentionally sneaks up on him and makes him spill his cocoa.

just. ngk. crowley as a cat relaxing on aziraphale's lap and pressing his head into his hand just to spontaneously switch back and suddenly there's a demon demanding attention and gently nuzzling into his neck.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #things get awkward one time when crowley is sunbathing in his armchair and cleaning himself #and aziraphale walks in on him on his back #all twisted and fluffy black fur #with his teeth trying to scratch an itch on the back of his hindleg #y'know the little gnawing thing cats do when they clean themselves #and they just freeze and stare at each other #and crowley gets so nervous and stressed out he ends up throwing up a hairball onto the carpet and then disappears for two weeks

[splat-dragon]

She’d learned to trust her instincts.

 And something was very, very, wrong.

 Her bones itched more than they ached, and her blood boiled in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Not for the first time that day, she heaved herself to her paws with a groan, and took to pacing again.

 Was tonight the night? Were the Pinkterons coming?

But it was storming outside, odd rumblings that rattled her bones and clattered her teeth together, sheets of rain that hit the roof hard enough to be loud even to her ears, and she was sure that they were not that foolish.

 She walked from one end of the room to the other, grumbling in discontent, her hips aching even as she kept her lame leg off the ground. “Gin, girl, c’mere,” Abigail beckoned, stooping down and sloshing around the bowl of stew she’d put down for her that morning to try and make it enticing. It was little more than broth, the meat so cooked through that it was all-but liquid so that she could eat it with dull and missing teeth, but like that morning it failed to draw her interest. Unease curdled her stomach, tore away any appetite she might have had. Something was wrong, and she wouldn’t be settled until she knew what it was.

 “Crazy dog,” she grumbled as she returned to her sewing, but her scent had soured some with concern.

 God, but she hurt, and for a moment she tried to lay down, to take some weight off of her joints, but agitation had her on her paws in moments. Thunder cracked, and she could feel it in her bones, aching and throbbing, and she couldn’t help but to whine, rising to hobble back and forth, back and forth.

 Oh, she wished John and Uncle were home. They’d left earlier in the day, and weren’t back yet. Something was going to happen, she could feel it deep in her bones, and the fact that they weren’t home yet made her fur stand on end.

“What’s wrong with Gin?”

 At least, though, Jack was home.

 The boy frowned at her, shifting his book to hold it in one hand, scratching between her ears with the other before slouching down on the couch. It felt so familiar, and something niggled at the back of her mind - she should know this. She shook her head irritably as though trying to cast away a fly; normally she’d do anything for a bit of affection, but she didn’t want to be distracted.

 “Dunno,” Abigail said, attention on her sewing, “she’s been like this all day. Maybe it’s the storm?”

 She scoffed at the thought—as if a storm could scare her! She doesn’t like thunder, sure, but she wasn’t afraid of a little storm.

 This, though, didn’t feel like a normal storm. It had been pouring all day, and the thunder was all around odd, didn’t sound right even to her ears, and the lightning looked strange through the window.

 “A little storm’s never bothered her before,” Jack frowned, flipping open his book and beginning to read.

The living room went quiet, broken only by Abigail’s murmuring, the clicking of her needles and the rasping of the pages of Jack’s book as he flipped them, engrossed in… whatever it was he was reading.

 God, did she miss reading. Sometimes he read aloud to her, but not nearly as much as he used to, and she missed it.

 Her ears pricked up and, although her hearing wasn't what it used to be, it was still good enough to pick up the sound of hoofbeats outside, thumping beneath rattling wagon wheels. She hoped it was John and Uncle, and it should be them, but it could have been anyone, even the Pinkertons and, with how the day had felt so far she wasn’t risking it, so she stumbled over to the window, feeling awful sorry for herself as she wobbled up onto the windowsill, struggling to balance on a leg and a half, squinting out into the storm.

Oh, she knew those horses! That Paint, Jack called her Beatrix after an author he liked, and that Appaloosa, John had named her Axle, and they made an odd pair but worked well together. And yes! There was John clambering out of the wagon but—where was Uncle?

 And why was this so familiar?

 Reassured that it was just John, she dropped from the windowsill with a groan, glad to take the weight off her hips. Still though, agitation rolled through her gut and she couldn’t help but to pace and pace, starting to frog hop, drawing her hindlegs together and stepping with them both at the same time - it hurt less.

‘Oh, John’ll kill you for that,’ she snorted as Jack kicked his feet up onto the couch, shoes and all. But Abigail saved him from a hiding, chastising him into putting his feet back down right before John stepped inside. She wagged her tail at him, then wagged it even harder when he agreed “Something funny’s going on out there.”

  “Thank you!” she whuffed, “Finally, someone with some sense!” and then she realized she’d said that John had sense and wondered if she’d lost her mind. He reached down to pet her, “Hey Gin,” stroking his hand down her spine and then between her hips.

 She squealed, a sharp pain shooting through them, and they buckled, sending her crashing to the ground. It was humiliating and, even as he said “Oh shit, (“Father!” “Is she alright?”) sorry Gin,” bringing his hands under her to scoop her back onto her feet, she hid her face in her paws.

She wobbled on her paws, hips feeling weak, praying that they didn’t give out on her again, that she could last through the end of the year, took a step and decided to lie down when they ached, hiding her muzzle between her forelegs. She still wanted to pace and pace and pace, but her hips wouldn’t allow it.

 “Damn Rufus’s gone crazy, wolves howlin’ and birds flyin’,” John grumbled, stooping to scratch that spot behind her ear apologetically before walking up behind Abigail, who dismissed it as ‘just the storm, John’ again.

 “Uncle make it back yet?” he asked, and she groaned, knowing that it’s not just that storm, dammit! and, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, wished that she could speak.

 She shoved him away, and Guinevere panted a laugh at the wounded expression on his face, though her words sobered her. “I thought he was with you, off drinking in the fields,” she’d been dozing when they’d left, so hadn’t known where they’d gone, and something about it struck her wrong, “I mean working, as you call it now.”

 There was a funny noise outside, and she raised her head from her paws to look at the window. Something moved, but the storm was pelting down so hard she couldn’t pick out much more than the movement itself, the rain so heavy it was little more than a curtain of grey. It was there and gone so fast, though, that maybe she imagined it?

 “No, he went into town a few hours ago, after we busted that hammer workin’ in the meadow.” John was kneeling, tossing wood into the fireplace from the sound of it, but her attention was still held by the window. What had that been?

 She startled, yelping when something wrapped around her, only to look up and find John carefully scooping her up. Abigail made a joke about Uncle waiting out the storm in a whorehouse as he set her down by the fireplace, and she stretched out with a groan and a thankful thwap of her tail, laying so she could stare out the window, basking in the heat that soaked into her bones.

There was that sound again!

 She jolted her head up, barely hearing John agree with her in a roundabout way, squinting: what was that? There was something resting on the window, brownish-grey, there and gone in a heartbeat and if she didn’t know there wasn’t a tree there she would have thought it a tree branch.

There was movement in the corner of her eye and she jumped, flinching, turning only to see Abigail getting to her feet. She snorted, sniffing the air, but the building was, admittedly, well-built and well-insulated and so the only smell was John, filthy and reeking of horse-sweat, and the offness of whatever Abigail had spent the day cooking.

 She walked away to work on cooking it and John slumped down into her chair, while Jack remained absorbed in his book. She paid half an ear’s worth of attention as she stared at the window, trying to figure out what she’d seen before, her fur standing on end. Something was very, very wrong, and how only John could feel it was baffling.

“What you readin’?” John asked, and she fought down a groan. Bless his heart, but he couldn’t bond with Jack to save his life. Bless him, really, but he was trying.

 “Just some book about monsters,” Jack grunted, and she frowned, feeling as though she’d heard this conversation before.

 There was an awkward silence, long enough that she turned her ears back to the window, slowly and carefully stretching out onto her side, keeping as much of her weight off of her hip as she could, until John finally said “Tell me about it,” and she grinned, “Good job John! That’s how you dad!” He was actually showing interest in something Jack was doing!

 “It’s kind of dumb,” Jack grunted, and she groaned, “Come on Jack, he’s giving you an olive branch! Stop being such a teenager!”

 And holy shit, John actually made a joke back at him, “Well that should suit me just fine,” and she couldn’t help but to laugh, huffing loudly.

 “Well, it’s all about in ancient times how Aztec warriors worshiped the sun but, during full moons, some of them worshiped the moon instead.”

 Her brain stuttered to a stop. Hold on, freeze frame, pause the movie. Did he say Aztec warriors?

 Oh, oh no. Now she knew where she’d heard this conversion before (“and upset the equilibrium of things.”)  There was no way, absolutely no way at all. She’d accept being turned into a dog. She’d accept time travel. She’d even accept falling into a different goddamn dimension.

 But zombies, no, zombies were too far! There was no such things as zombies, and there was no way she was in Undead Nightmare!

 No way, no how, never ever. She refused to accept it. She was weak, she was old, she couldn’t even protect herself from an angry bunny.

 What would she do if there were zombies of all things shambling around in a world where there was no respawning, only horrifically final Game Overs?

#splat #splatdragon #splatdragonff #splat dragon #silent savior #This is it the apocalypse whoa! #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2

[greatshell-rider]

SKELETAL ESCAPADES: CHAPTER TWO

[Chapter Index] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

CS2 was dismissed and reanimated off and on for the next few days, its bones animated whenever Tibia needed an extra set of claws to get a task done or run a message or stand watch over their injured guest. Who had yet to wake. Whenever Tibia needed to end the spell to rest and restore her magic well, CS2 was dismissed, and knew nothing, not of existence present, past, nor future, until its soul was summoned once more.

Slowly, during the times it was animated, it watched Tibia and Lamp’s new lair expand. At first it had been nothing more than a small, muddy hole in the side of a grassy hill, not even big enough for all three dragons to occupy it at the same time. At first, Lamp stayed outside, only sticking his head in to transfer their packs and supplies from their old camp, or bring in fresh kills or medicinal herbs so Tibia could focus wholly on nursing the banescale back to health. CS2 had to admit, it was odd for it to watch, being an undead thing. Just as Tibia had called its soul back to its bones, so did she coax this stranger dragon back from behind the curtains of death, back onto the stage of life.

Lamp brought in fresh grass, leaves, twigs, feathers, bunches of flowers, bark, pine boughs, tanned and furred skins, for building up nests and decorating the walls of the lair. Whenever Tibia needed a break and went out for a flight, he would work on making the den bigger, careful not to disturb the banescale’s slumber as he scraped at the walls, hollowed out a second den space for storing their possessions, and firm up the ceiling of the entrance tunnel to lessen the likelihood of it collapsing during a storm. Eventually the lair was big enough for Lamp to fit inside, and then he stopped, spending his time alone looking over his maps, dusty and worn from age, tracing old dotted lines from one flight’s domain to the next with a claw in quiet, musing reflection.

Almost a week after first finding the banescale, a heavy downpour of rain and strong, gusting winds kept Tibia and Lamp inside the lair for two days. The upward slant of the entrance tunnel made the possibility of flooding unlikely, but occasionally large splotches of mud would drip from the ceiling, and both fae and guardian were clearly getting antsy. After losing her fourth game of rune-tiles in a row, Tibia threw down her set of chips and declared they needed a new form of entertainment.

She animated CS2, and the chipmunk skeleton popped into undead existence, the pop and crackle of the wavy purple energy saturating its bones giving it a pleasant tingle.

It jumped atop Tibia’s crested head, tipped its skull back, and began to warble out a song.

“Nope!” Tibia clamped her claws around CS2 and plucked it down. “None of that. CS2, your chipmunk chatter is adorable, but my spells are not sophisticated enough to turn you into a songbird.”

“Yet,” CS2 said, muffled around Tibia’s claws.

“Perhaps,” she conceded, loosening her grip on the necro-animation. “But for now, do you have any suggestions for something for us to do?” Both dragons peered down hopefully at the tiny skeleton.

CS2 shrugged. “You could greet the banescale spying on us from the tunnel.”

Both dragons’ heads jerked towards the far end of the den, and a loud, aggressive hiss from the injured banescale leaning heavily against the tunnel wall brought them to their feet.

“You’re awake!” Lamp said in delight.

“You shouldn’t be up!” Tibia cried, scuttling towards her. “You’ll only aggravate—”

“Stay back!” the banescale snarled, flaring a wing at Tibia’s approach. Tibia leaped back, but the sudden movement had thrown the weakened banescale off-balance and she nearly fell, staggering a few steps before bracing her wings against the walls of the tunnel to steady herself.

Though (somewhat) upright, she was clearly still in bad shape, favoring a leg and her head dragging low, green eyes dull and ragged breath sounding painful as it rattled about in her lungs. Yet the porcupine spines that ran from the back of her head to the tip of tail bristled dangerously, making the banescale appear to loom and fill up the entire tunnel. Her open jaw bared sharp, bright teeth and her thick, powerful tail swung slowly from side to side in silent threat.

“I’m leaving,” she declared, even raspy-throated and swaying slightly. “You try and follow me and I’ll—” an ugly, hacking cough shook the dragon from wingtip to wingtip— “I’ll—I’ll rip y-your throat—” Promptly, she collapsed, wavering legs and wings unable to bear her weight any longer. Her head rose, snaking from side to side and she hissed as Tibia cautiously tried to creep forward. “Don’t get close to me—!” she shrieked, voice strangled as she struggled to shoved herself up again.

“Please, stop,” Lamp pleaded, trying to crowd into the tunnel after Tibia. “You’re only making it worse—”

“Lamp,” Tibia cautioned, stopping him with a claw. “She’s scared.”

The banescale’s eyes narrowed to thin green slits. “Stay. Away.” Teeth still bared, she lurched to her feet and staggered down the entrance tunnel.

“Stop!” Lamp called, growing increasingly upset. “The storm—!” But the banescale stumbled out of sight. “No, wait!” Lamp wiggled past the protesting Tibia and darted after the injured dragon, following her out into the storm.

“By the deities,” Tibia hissed, then bounded after her mate. “CS2! Sit just outside the den and wait for us!” And she too disappeared into the dark sheets of rain blown nearly horizontal by the wind.

CS2 stuck its claws into the eyehole of its skull and rubbed the inside thoughtfully, wondering if the ache there was a flaw of the necromancy or an echo from its creator.

Then the magic started to itch impatiently at its bones, so CS2 obeyed Tibia’s command and trudged out into the rain, stopping a short distance from the lair entrance and digging its tiny claws into the muddy grass to avoid getting blown away by the wind. The purple aura that animated its bones shone bright, brighter than usual, marking a clear beacon for anyone lost, running and searching alike, to find their way back through the storm.

~~~~

CS2 had expected for the dragons to return with the banescale once again unconscious and draped across Lamp’s back. Unconscious from things like the storm’s winds knocking her over and hitting her head hard on a rock, or her wounds tiring her once more so she passed out. Worst case scenario, CS2 figured, Tibia and Lamp caught up to the banescale, the banescale grew aggressive and attacked, and Lamp was forced to defend them, or Tibia levitated a stick and smacked her upside the head. But if all three dragons were returning together, they could only be arriving in that one way.

It was wrong.

An hour or two after Tibia had assigned CS2 its post—with the storm finally beginning to calm, the rain sputtering to brief showers and the thunder mere growls, with only the occasional fierce, quick gust of wind howling through the grass—its aura started to glow brighter, and it looked up to see its master flitting her way towards the lair. A leap behind was her mate, walking slowly through the rain-soaked grass—notably, without a banescale on his back. At first CS2 thought Tibia and Lamp had failed, losing the stranger to the storm. But then Lamp paused and turned his head, and a moment later CS2 spied the banescale crest the hill, leaning heavily on one wing as she limped through the grass. Obviously every step caused her pain, but when Lamp proffered a wing, she continued past him in icy, determined silence, not sparing even a glance at his direction.

“Proud,” CS2 commented as Tibia touched down to the ground before the tunnel entrance. It didn’t resist as the fae scooped up the necro-animation and poked at a few of its bones. It felt an odd buzz as the bone magic shifted slightly.

“Yes,” Tibia murmured, pausing her work to look over her wings at her mate and their . . . guest, now, CS2 supposed? The banescale did seem to be coming willingly, even if she clearly despised the choice. “Proud, and stubborn. But not stuck-up about it.” The fae’s crest fanned out, then flattened as she bustled down into the lair, fiddling with CS2 once more.

“What makes you say that?” CS2 asked, to distract itself as Tibia readjusted the vertebra in its neck.

Tibia turned left when the entrance tunnel branched, entering the den with the banescale’s nest and her medical supplies. She set CS2 on her shoulder and began cleaning the den up briskly, almost frantically. Her jerky motions made the ride unpleasant, so CS2 hopped down and clambered up the line of holes in the wall that had been dug out to shelve herbs, perching on the ledge of the tallest one. Its creator was clearly full of nervous energy, from the way she practically threw materials across the cave. There was a lot of unnecessary motion going on, when usually Tibia liked to be measured and precise.

Finally she sat still, plunking down in the center of the den with leaves and branches strewn about her. She held her claws close to her chest, staring at nothing and picking at her clawtips. “Lamp got hurt,” she said at last, in answer to CS2’s question. “And she helped him, rather than run.”

CS2 used a hindleg to scratch at its ribcage. Ah, just mate worries and the like. Still, the banescale had surprised it. “He’s alright?”

“Yes, yes, he’s fine.” Abruptly Tibia got up and began to clean again, this time slower, though impatiently, seeming frustrated she’d lost herself earlier. After a moment, she said, “We’d followed her into the corpse of trees a mile off, after almost losing sight of her for quite a few minutes. I kept telling Lamp we should just go back, we’d done what we could, but then he’d catch a glimpse and hurl off immediately once more.” Irritation edged her tone, but CS2 had been animated frequently enough to also hear the affection underneath. If only it had the eyes to roll. Mates. “We caught up in the trees, and Lamp was too busy calling after her to watch where he was going—right as he’d stopped underneath a tree, a branch broke and fell on him. It didn’t seem to hurt him, and I was hurrying to help, but the branch blocked his vision and he got confused trying to scrape it off his face, and he stumbled sideways into another tree, a big old pine.”

CS2 smothered a laugh. Tibia threw it an unamused look.

She continued, “Apparently the pine was old, dead, struck by lightning or partially uprooted already because the whole dead thing fell on him when he ran into it.”

“Ouch,” CS2 commented.

“Yes,” Tibia said shortly, using her tail to help her wallop the nest into a comfortable shape. “Ouch. The banescale was about to drag herself away, and I was fine to let her do that, but at Lamp’s cry of pain, she stopped. Hesitated, I guess, and risked a look back.” Tibia kicked grumpily at a twig bent out of place.

“When she saw me and Lamp struggling to get him free, she came back and helped us dig him out. The storm started to pick up then, and with the wind and the rain and the dark and all those stupid trees—we weren’t sure where to go. Could barely hear each other, even yelling above the wind, so we decided to hunker down and wait until I could fly up and figure out a way out of the forest. The fallen tree actually made for some good shelter, and while we were huddled together, we had a talk. She’s about as fun to talk to as she is to chase down, but we made it work. Lamp did, anyway. He convinced her to come back here with us, at least until she can fly on her own.”

“Thus—” CS2 gestured at the hastily remade den.

“Thus,” Tibia agreed. “Now that she’s awake, I thought a refresh would be good.” She wrinkled her nose. “Haven’t been able to change the nest material much with an unconscious, bleeding banescale on it.”

“I’ll do it myself, from now on,” the conscious, and only somewhat bleeding, banescale growled from where she leaned against the tunnel wall just outside the den cave. Lamp crowded in behind her and her head turned to eye him distrustfully, her body wound as tight as the Stormcatcher’s timepiece.

“You will not,” Tibia said, snapping abruptly into healer mode and hurrying over to herd the banescale inside. The banescale allowed it, still limping heavily, and reluctantly, but with evident relief, sank heavily down into the new nest. “You’ll be doing nothing but sleep for at least two moons.”

The banescale made as if to protest.

“That is, if you want to be out and flying before winter,” Tibia said archly, and despite the size difference, stared the banescale down.

An extended pause, with CS2 looking back and forth at the two contenders, before the banescale finally broke eye contact, looking away in begrudging surrender. “We’ll see.” Her growl was haughty, but the dryness of her voice lessened the effect somewhat.

Lamp rumbled happily. “I’ll get a meal ready,” he said, and turned. He had to back up into the entrance tunnel a few steps before entering the second den, so large was he.

“I will be putting a bandage on your head, you know,” Tibia called after him.

“We’ll see!” he chirped back cheerfully.

Both Tibia and the banescale rolled their eyes, and when they noticed the same in the other, quickly looked away. The banescale shifted deeper into the nest and watched with narrow, unblinking eyes as Tibia flitted from shelf to shelf, putting the final materials away before collecting the ones she needed to start making a new poultice—after the chase through the storm, a lot of the banescale’s wounds had reopened. Now that she was out of the rain, the bleeding was becoming evident, bright red slowly soaking through the new grass and branches of the nest.

“CS2, assist,” Tibia commanded after a while, and at the pre-coded command, CS2 scrambled down from the shelves to join the fae at her station, becoming an extra set of claws to hold a powder, measure a liquid, fetch another bowl, and scratch any itchy spots Tibia’s scales developed when she was claw-deep in a sticky substance.

The banescale made a quiet sound of surprise at CS2’s rattling arrival. “Necromancer?” she said, failing to hide the note of unease in her voice. “I thought you were a healer.”

“Both. I never meant to learn medicine, training as a mage, but with the meat attached to the bones . . .” Tibia shrugged. “There’s some overlap.”

“She doesn’t love it,” CS2 piped up.

“—but it’s useful,” Tibia concluded, stirring the last of the crushed beetle shell into the reddish-brown mixture and turning towards her patient. CS2 jumped onto her shoulder, prepared to help administer the poultice. “Here we are. Stay still,” she told the banescale.

But the banescale leaned away. “I don’t trust you, or that.” A quick flick of light green eyes in CS2’s direction, with a slight jerk of her jaw. “How do I know that will really work?” She eyed the poultice distrustfully.

“It’s this or ruin all the bedding,” Tibia said impatiently. When the banescale didn’t move, she sighed. “I’ll admit I’m not the most accomplished of healers. I have no natural talent for it. If I did, I’d have you knocked out still.” The banescale’s eyes narrowed further. “But,” Tibia added, “I have kept you alive this far. I promise I mean you no harm, and that this will only help you heal faster, easier, and if I find the proper numbing agent, less painfully. Alright?” She held up the bowl of poultice enticingly.

CS2 didn’t know if it had seen the banescale blink once. She didn’t do so now, eyes locked on Tibia’s. “Swear it. By the Windsinger, or the land, or your mate. Promise me your words are true.” There was an intensity, almost a ritualistic feel, to the banescale’s tone. Every spine on the dragon’s back stood upright and utterly still, tense and waiting.

Tibia’s crest wiggled a moment, then went still. “I swear, by all three,” she promised.

The banescale breathed out, long and slow, still not having blinked, and as she did, her porcupine spines slowly relaxed, not quite flattening, still a little prickled, but suddenly not looking quite so big and fearsome as she had a moment ago. Without a word, she lay down fully, exposing the worst of her injuries to Tibia’s hovering claws, and before Tibia and CS2 could begin cleaning the wounds and applying the poultice, closed her eyes. She squeezed them shut tight, and the large claws of her two feet curled in tight as well, as if she were forcing herself not to react to the quick, light touches that danced across her scales while master and servant worked. She did twitch and jerk occasionally, on the tenderest of her wounds, but didn’t say a word, and not Tibia either, until—

“Does it have a name?” The question was so quiet, CS2 barely heard it.

“Chipmunk Skeleton Two,” Tibia said.

“CS2,” it said at the same time. “And yours?”

The banescale didn’t answer.

The minutes went by, Lamp giving them their space after announcing food was ready whenever they were, until CS2 scampered down the banescale’s tail and she jerked, nearly flinging the necro-animation away.

“Are there more of it?” The banescale gritted out, scales twitching underneath CS2 as it wrapped a bandage around a wound.

“For now, no,” Tibia said.

“There was a ‘Chipmunk Skeleton One,’” CS2 offered, “and a few others, but none were as good as me.”

“CS2’s small form lets me incorporate a lot of commands for a relatively small amount of magic, so it requires less concentration and energy on my part to maintain it,” Tibia explained. “Quality over quantity, that’s why I don’t have more necro-animations at the moment.”

“CS1 though . . .” CS2 shook its skull sadly, mirrored by its master, and the conversation faded.

CS2 glanced over, and was surprised to see that one pale eye had slid open, the banescale staring at CS2 with startling alertness, in spite of all the pain. It couldn’t tell what the banescale was feeling, staring at it like that. So sharp and intense, those eyes—piercing. It wondered what she was looking for in it, and wasn’t sure whether to be nervous or not. Did banescales eat skeletons? Probably crunched down the bones as well as the meat, when eating a creature, but just a skeleton alone, bleached for use and stained by magic? CS2 could hardly be a temptation now, not even for a snack.

Right?

“I’m . . .” The banescale trailed off. Neither CS2 nor Tibia said a thing, but CS2 watched her out of the corner of its eyehole. It saw as the banescale’s gaze slid away, and felt the accompanying shudder through her body as she sighed, and told them, “My name is Atomic.” She growled then, as if angry at herself.

“Nice to meet you,” Tibia said. “I’m Tibia.”

“I’m Lamp!” Lamp hollered from across the lair.

Tibia and Atomic met eyes again, and CS2 sensed its master was holding back a laugh, though the banescale looked less pleased. Less pleased, and more tired.

“Well met,” Atomic said wearily, eyes drifting closed again. Finally—and it had taken a while; Atomic must have been actively fighting against the poultice’s effects until just now—the banescale fell asleep.

When Tibia and CS2 finished with the last of the bandaging, the fae sat back on her hindquarters with a heavy, exhausted sigh. Lamp cautiously poked his head in, a platter of crisped spiders—Tibia’s favorite—held in his claws.

“Ready for food?” he asked, voice soft so as to not wake Atomic.

Tibia shook her head. “Ready to nap for a fourthmoon. But those smell delicious.” Lamp rumbled happily as she stretched all her limbs, legs, wings, and tail, nearly dislodging CS2 from where it clung, then followed him back into their den. “I’ll be glad when she’s healed up and gone.”

“You’re doing amazing,” he assured her, as they curled up together in their nest to eat. “It’ll be just the two of us again soon.”

“And we can leave this hole,” Tibia mumbled, half a spider dangling from her jaw as her eyes shut, half-asleep herself.

“Fly off somewhere new and exciting,” Lamp promised. “There’s this one place on the map, a swamp south of here? And it’s got this really promising ancient hollow tree trunk . . .” He rambled on about all the many different places he hoped they would travel to and explore, never staying still for more than a day or two, and so on, and eventually Tibia fell asleep, spider platter only half consumed, her small fae body rising and falling gently to her mate’s breathing.

Lamp trailed off, craning his neck to make sure she was asleep, then looked at CS2 with a flicker of victory in his eyes. “She didn’t bandage my head,” he told it.

With Tibia’s consciousness fading—she wasn’t asleep yet, not completely—CS2 could feel the magic leeching from its bones, and knew it only had a few moments before the dark, then, maybe, its reanimation whenever Tibia next needed it.

“You’ll regret it in the morning,” it informed him, and the guardian’s deep-chested rumble of a chuckle was the last thing CS2 heard, until—

#Skeletal Escapades #fr #flight rising #fr lore stories #my writing #bit of a longer one here! #all lamp knows is be himbo and drink respect wife juice 😤

[reachingirem-blog]

Tunnel Borers (repost)

  Reposting this from my first tumblr- Irem of the pillars- Cos the former got overtaken by a spambot and I still feel it’s kinda..Unclean.    

This was one of my first attempts at writing xenofiction, and it shows.  The prose is chunkier than a cup of peanut butter with actual peanuts in it, and looking back on it I think I didn’t really focus on the “moles’ “ sensescape. The ending is fairly dumb as well, and it kinda is just rushed. One day I may get back to this to either rewrite it fully or try to prettify it, but for now...      Tunnel Borers            

I was on patrol when Evie came up to me bearing bad, bad news. She inserted herself into one of my tunnel, and I felt my waves ping off her as she stopped, propping herself on one knee. “Addie? Addie?” Her own waves were tinged with insecurity and fear, reverberating lowly and meekly. “There’s something wrong with mother. “ I stopped digging, claws sinking into some stubborn rock- Hesitating just enough that some stale and mossy dirt dripped into my eyes, forcing me to blink them. Five, ten seconds, and then she sounded off again. “Addie?…..I am serious.” “Alright, I am backing off.” And so I did, easing myself backwards onto the softer, warmer parts of the strata. Like the little good sister she was Addie shifted around as well, her body thrumming with detection waves as we slowly retraced our steps. She wasn’t lying, and when my waves bounced off a prone form laying in the common hall a chill ran down my spine. Lili was kneeling next to her massive bulk, nuzzling her plating- Still warm, still twitching. Our feet made little to no waves as we shambled to mom’s side, and placed out claws against her comforting hardshell. Her voice was barely above a slight tremor. “I am fine, really. Just need some…Rest.” And in her answer, we perceived the echoes of her inside- Sensed the joints creaking, her lungs expanding and contracting slowly. Too slowly, with not enough air. I butted my head against her muzzle, and felt her spiny tongue lick my neck- Breath smelling of wormblood and fungi and stale water. “Liar”, I heard Lili rumble. “Liar”, she repeated, lower, softer- Almost accusingly. Mom chuffed, and there was a soft vibration as she thwacked Lili with a back tentacle. “Am not. Really, I need…To raise a bit.” Silence fell among the four of us, interrupted only by the creaking of our joints. Mother caught altogether too fast, and I stammered back a bit as she tried to steady herself with one claw. “Addie?” “Yes, mother?” “Can you…Dig me a tunnel? Upwards. Not much. Just…A few hundred meters. I need..Some air. Just a bit more..” I felt Evie amble next to me, the sleek warmth of her claw pressing against my back as she slapped her muzzle against the side of my neck. “Listen”, she intoned at barely-perceptible levels. “I can’t stand her being like this. Just.” My sister raised her head at the hall’s packed-dirt ceiling. “Get to Abhra. Negotiate passage with him to a higher tier. We’ll wait for you to dig.” Abhra…I nodded, thinking back to his low, bellowing call. He probably had gotten almost as big as mom since I had last crossed his patrol. Before departing I had to make a round of the communal hall, clawtips slowly going over the markings Evie and Lili had made over countless resurgences. Mother had added her own commentary in her deep gouges, citing this and that tactic, and I stopped to scratch a few more worm movements into the ground. Mother sensed this, and she rumbled right before I slung myself into a tunnel. “Addie?” “…Yes, mom?” “I sensed it again today. A big one, that one that… the big one, with spikes. The-” She made a rumble I had never felt before, and Lili cringed- Dirt flinging onto her face. “So watch out…Please.” I rumbled back, and she allowed herself to purr happily. Thanks the depth Abhra was not too hard to find. I just had to dug upwards through some old marching tunnel in order to start hearing the distant echoes of his claws swathing through the semi-hard rocks and quartzs. He answered my call almost immediately, shifting his bulk into the tunnel with ease, breath stained with the scent of freshwater. “Addie.” His neck extended, and I dutifully rubbed my own against- Taking in the smell of stale wormblood and shed shells. “How is your mother, dear?” “About that, Abhra. She isn’t feeling too well, and….” My rumbling trailed off. He probably didn’t need me to finish explaining myself. Abhra stopped dead in his track and placed a claw against the upper part of the tunnel, steadying himself. “I respect your mother, but…Rules are rules, Addie. I can cover you only for a handful of hours, so…Better do it quickly.” I extended a claw in gratitude, and allowed a slow, relaxed rumble to lop off its tips. The older one accepted it, shifting to a deep, grateful purr. When I shifted back to the communal hall Evie and Lili were already helping mom into the sloping part of a tunnel. We spent most of the voyage in silence, watching as mother ambled forward- Her back scraping against the upper part of the tunnel. Sometimes we’d just…Stop for a while, and listen to her shallow, booming breathing. Sometimes we’d put our heads against the dirt walls and wait for the regular thrumming of a passing patrol. And sometimes, sometimes we’d stand utterly still and we would hear them thrashing far, far beneath us with irregular, frenzied motions, sending the earth tussling and creaking. Mother would then strain to raise to her hindlegs and growl, claws planted into the dirt. But no worm came to us, and eventually Evie stopped in her tracks, raising her head. “The communal hall.” She was right. A smell of freshwater, mushrooms and blood drifted in from the tunnel in front of us, accompanied by the jovial rumbling of several patrols resting- And… We stopped. There were the bass, low sound of other big ones resting, almost as big as mom, some even bigger. Indeed, we spotted them immediately the moment we entered the hall. A few greeted mother with their own rumbles, and she answered with a curt thrum that rolled off her throat easily, her breathing already more even…If still slightly irregular. The hall surveyor was an old matron a few scant hairs under mother’s size. They rubbed muzzles, and she directed us to one of the free burrows. Mom slumped against the wall, foreclaws crossed. “Better, already.” Yet, there was something…Off about her. About the way her plating creaked just slightly so when she dug her claws onto the rock. Evie sided to me and butted her head against my spine, rumbling quietly. “In the commonal hall. Need to think this.” We left Lili to tend to mom, and soon we were into our own little muddy crater near the small river that cursed at the end of the hall. “I am getting her a mender. “ Evie sunk further into the warm mud, making a content rumble. “Just….I think she got hit by something. Worm poison, maybe?” I clenched my teeth in response. Poison…Damn, I could have asked Abhra about it. “Not sure. I heard she once was stung with something that made the soft parts itch, but that’s not it.” “I may have an idea.” Lili splashed down with a grunt, burying herself up to her back tentacles. Evie and I ignored her for the time being- Girl could be weird when she put her mind to it. I begun grooming myself, but yet.. “You know that time you went under our zone? Too under?” A pang of pain at the back of my head at the memory of just plain feeling wrong, of all my joints aching. “Well, when you did that..” She trailed off in a soft rumble. “You leaked something. Was not blood, but it smelled weird. Mom’s…Doing the same. They even have the same..” Lili stopped once again. “The same..” “Same taste?” “Oh, yes, but I was looking for.” She wrapped a claw around my wrist. “The same…Do you remember when mom described what happens to her when she uses her fifth sense? And there are parts of the worms and us that are warmer and some colder? She used a..” Then she made a sound, a rumble we never heard before. “Mom called it that. It’s a different that, and it tastes different so..” “We need to get her to a mender.” Evie raised a mud-covered claw and rubbed it over Lili’s head. “No. We need to get her higher. A mender would just heal her and then…Ask her to go deeper. She is big after all.” Some sorrow dipped into Lili’s rumble, and I shuffled on my hindlegs. Maybe she was right, but a mender wouldn’t certainly just…Send mom back to the patrol zone. Not after we’d have told her what ailed mother… …Yes, but what ailed mother? I raised my head and chuffed. “Sorry, Lili, but we need to get her to a mender. One in the hollows, if possible. We do not know what is hurting her, and maybe they’ll listen to us.” A rumble of protest died in her throat, and she simply nodded, burying herself onto the mud. We stayed for a hour there, dipping ourselves into the river afterwards. Mother joined us for a while, and we helped her get rid of what little snails had latched onto her plating and fur. I was busy using my claws to scrub one of her back tentacles when she rumbled surprise and slowly raised her head “Abhra.” One minute later he stumbled onto the hall, thrumming with worry and surprise. The old male made a beeline for us, claws creaking against the stone floor as he bellowed an alert. “Worms.” He dug into the mud, halting his advanced- Breath heavy with blood. “And a big one, a mobile nest. “ Lili was already throwing herself between mother and the shore before she could even turn. Evie joined her, and there I was, left standing to mom’s side. She slowly turned her head towards me. “Kids? Please.” “You need a mender.” I slowly lifted on my hindlegs, claws against her thigh. “You do, mom. Let us..” She growled softly, back-tentacles curling and uncurling rhythmically. We waited ten seconds, thirty- A minute- And then she just…slowly lowered herself, head shaking. “Abhra- I trust the other patrols have not grown as slack as mine, have they?” There was a hint of amusement in her tone, and she placed a claw on Lili’s head. Evie let out a chuff, rubbing her neck against mother’s side. Abhra just shook his own head at the scene, a pleasant rumble emanating out of his form. “I can not say for sure, but I’ll see what I can about those worms. “ He nodded in the direction of one of the outgoing tunnels. “There’s the Saffron hollow to go to, if you are looking for a mender. I could cover you for a while longer, after all…” There was a sort of quiet excitement in the way he slowly arched his shoulder. “I could use some exercise.” That about settled it. Mom let out a disenfranchised grumble, but she allowed us to drag her to the entrances of one of the bigger exit tunnels. It didn’t take long to leave the sturdy stone of the hall behind, and it took us even less to find the spiderweb of service tunnels that led to the hollow. The hollow…It had been what? Three, four resurgences since we had been there. Lili hadn’t even shed her juvenile plating, and I was still in possession of all my back tentacles.. Evie let out a small warning grumble as we entered a somewhat decent-sized cavern containing a small river. “Sentinels up ahead.” We halted our advance, and three lumbering males that were a few bruised shells short of being Abhra trotted our way, greeting waves soft and relatively unconcerned. They circled us and begun the usual ritual of looking for any impurities, tapping our hardsells with their claws. Mother was glossed over with a low rumble of respect, and soon we stepped inside the hollow’s stone grounds. Lili hid behind mom the moment she perceived the grumbles of the other patrols. There were at least a dozen of them, matrons and their kids, and they were lazing about on the stone slabs in the middle of the hollow- Trading gossip with slow, placid rumbles or simply snoring. A few of them turned towards mother and emitted a keen, cognizant noise that bounced like crazy against the distant, sloping walls. We barked back our request for a mender, and not much later we were awkwardly stuffed in a cave designed for someone of a much smaller lineage, watching an older female- Even more hunched and armored than mother- Work her way on mom, who was laying face up on a slab of rock. Despite her age, the healer was weirdly enough less than half of mother in height, almost as big as Lili- And Evie and I had to hold back a chuff at the way our sister measured herself against the mender. The other female was either too concentrated on fixing mother’s problems or too good natured to brush off the poor girl, and so we spent that time just leaning against the walls and prodding at a few of the basins the mender hadn’t covered. Eventually, the healer stepped back from mother’s own prone form and rubbed her claws together, rumbling in satisfaction. Mom had fallen asleep in the meanwhile and so the older female hushed us out of the cave with a soft, authoritative click. “All I can tell you”, she rumbled as soon as we turned down a tunnel. “Is that this is a…” Her next wave faded off, and we felt her look down. “A completely natural if.. Unfortunate malady. It tends to happens only among these of your mother’s lineage, and it is more of a…Side effect of their size. With age, they begin to grow faster than their lungs can support them, and with what little air there is. Anyway.” Her back-tentacles unfurled, and she pushed a clay pot towards us. “This is a special unguent that will ease her pains and help her breath more, but that’s about the extent of what I can do. She’ll be out and about not far from now, and I’d suggest talking to the patrol organizers to see about a change of depth.” There was a sympathetic, warm tinge to her rumble, and we bowed ourselves to her, rumbling thankfully. Lili kept her head turned towards the mender even as she shuffled back into her cave, and we managed to distract her only with the promise of some wormfood later on. Wormfood we had to scoop out of one of the lower caves, watching as a procession of smaller patrols trotted by. Some of the mothers there were barely older than me, and yet they bore teeth and tentacle marks on their shells. We retraced our steps to one of the matrons inside the hollow, and she pointed us to an unused hall. Maybe it was because Lili was looking more pitiful than usual, maybe it was because of mom’s standing- But the cave we had been assigned was almost as big as our previous communal hall, and I felt Evie begin digging herself a sleeping niche as soon as we stepped in, the layabout. We spent some time eating wormfood and assorted fungi, and then I felt Lili clamber against my side, breath even and slow as she buried her muzzle in a back-tentacle. I let out a happy rumble, and we just…sat there for a while. We had no patrols on schedule, nothing to jot down- Nothing to do but to wait for mom to wake up. Eventually my little sister rumbled up and waddled over to the middle of the hall. “So what we do now?” Her wave slowly trailed off, and I heard Evie poke her head out of the dirt, turning it in my direction as she sent an inquisitive wave. I remained silent, and Lili let out an unamused chuff- Right before Evie could answer. “We… wait for mom to fully recuperate, then we head back to our hall. With some luck, the unguent should last us a few resurgences..”She trailed off, rubbing some dirt between her claws. “And then?” Evie sunk a bit in her niche , shaking her claws ruefully. “Then..” She hazarded with a soft bark. “We travel back here once again. It shouldn’t be hard to rack up some patrol time to trade with Abhra and..” “And then?” Lili fell on all four, claws raking on the floor. Her anger was a quiet, soft rumble that pervaded the whole floor in short waves. We fell silent for a while. She continued, rumbling more conceitedly. “Then what, Addie? Then what, Evie? We wait for a few resurgences, and then repeat all of this again?” Lili stood up on her hindlegs, and I felt Evie shift- Turning her heads towards our sister. “What do you propose, Lili? That we shirk our duties and keep digging upwards?” Predictably enough, her answer was just an unamused, deep chuff. “No. I can find another solution. Just you wait..” She had disappeared before we could chide her. Evie and I turned our heads to each other, and we set about making the hall comfortable. I dug up a sleeping spot for Lili as well, fetching some of her favourite mushrooms. It…Hopefully was just a spur of the moment thing, I thought. Just a temporary change of humour. That was disproved when I went out to find something to eat. Halfway through the connection tunnel to the main hollow I heard the sound of dirt moving, and Lili erupted from the tunnel’s side. “Addie! Addie! I found a solution! “ I still wish I hadn’t asked her to explain herself, sometimes. She dragged the two of us into a side-tunnel at the base of the hollow, one with smooth stone walls. Evie placed her claws on her muzzle the moment we realized what these were, and I tried my best not to glare at Lili. “Really, sis?” I placed a claw on the gouges that had been carved into the rocks over countless resurgences. “Do we really need to disturb this place just because of a flight of fancy of yours?” Lili stood on her hindlegs and rumbled with soft anger. “Touch the stones. What do you feel under your claws?” “The lower strata and the worms’ nests. “ “And over that?” “Our dens, halls. Further than that, the hollows.” “And over that?” Over that, my claws touched bare, unblemished stone. No marks, save for the occasional sketch of a worm’s figure. More worm territory, then. “Worms. “ I ran a single clawtip over a spherical mass of wormsigns. “Lots of them.” “Yes, but there are also…Marks! Signs of tunnels and hollows! They continue upwards, and there are no marks of any worm nest there!” Her rumble was infectiously joyous, short and bouncy, and I pondered what she had said. In a way, she was right. No signs of the infestation further upwards. But no signs of tunnels or trenches or halls or…Anything. Totally uncharted territory. Not even a single gouge mark of any kind there- And who knew what sort of worm variety would lurk past the safety of the hollows.. Evie chuffed. “And how did you extrapolate that?” Lili tapped the rock once again. “It’s like with the fluid that leaked out of mom’s wounds! I just..It’s there, but we can’t feel it. I can…Sense it, but they’re shapes- Flat shapes. “ She dropped on all four and trotted over to me, nuzzling my knee. “So, uh, is this enough?” We remained silent, with Lili flopping down the floor the moment she realized the answer was not coming anytime soon. I placed a claw over her neck. “Lil? This is well and all, but..” I was about to say something about either the non-existence or danger of these places when Evie rumbled up. “There is an awful lot of worms there, sis. More than we can han-” “Don’t really think so.” Mother’s voice rumbled against the tunnel’s walls as she struggled to fit in. “I think I can take out a few of those beasts myself. “ Lili let out a happy squeal and rushed to hug her forelimbs. I allowed myself to rumble ominously at her. “Mom? How many times do I need to-” She effortlessly patted my head, breaths coming in easier and quicker. “Shush. We have already come this far, so we might as well make it count. “ Then she lowered her head, rumbling awkwardly. “That, and the mender’s unguent…There isn’t exactly a lot of it. I’d like a more permanent solution, you know?” I grumbled in Evie’s direction, and she simply shook her head. Mother’s breathing was even more regular now, and her vibrations were even, softer. Lili paid no heed to this, preferring to just lick her forelimbs and purr loudly. Evie let out a deep sigh of disapproval, but nevertheless strode out with purpose from the tunnel. I felt mother’s attention fall upon me, and I raised a claw assertively. “At this point, if that is your will….That, and I haven’t sharpened my claws in a while.” She chuffed mirthfully, and I fell behind her as we sorted out of the tunnel- Back into our hall, to rest, eat and prepare. We smeared ourselves with mud near the hollow, and then set out along one of the smaller, less patrolled tunnels- With Lili carrying the pot of unguent. It didn’t take long for the first worms to make themselves heard. Their spastic movements carried through the densely packed dirt, and mother stood with her back against the walls of the tunnel, trying to feel their movements with her back-tentacles. Meanwhile, Evie and I slowly dug forward and upwards, claws raking against softer and softer muck with each hit. The air was getting more and more heavy with a disgustingly thick sweet scent, and Lili kept sneezing even as we dug into air pockets- Or perhaps because of it. Several time mother raised to her hindlegs and hushed us with a gesture. Several times we huddled against each other and waited, the sounds of our breathing the only thing audible in the tunnel. And yet, time after time it turned out to be a mere false alarm. Each time we resumed digging with renewed vigour. Eventually my claws struck something frayed and cracked, and I nearly doubled from the sheer stench of decomposition and decay. It was a thick coating of utterly sweet scents, mingled with ferrous smells and the pungent odour of fungi decomposing. Behind me, I felt Evie and Lili gag- Right as mother surpassed them, claws over their shoulders to still them. She slowly edged her muzzle into the hole I had made as I flattened myself against the wall. I don’t know how much time she spent doing that, but when she pulled out, her rumble was nothing more than a soft tremor that could be mistaken for loose dirt falling. “Back up. Worm nest. Sleeping.” Evie placed a claw on mother’s back, and I imitated her. “What now?” she asked, head turned towards the hole. “We can either back up and dig around it, or try to plough straight through it. “ A soft sneer full of contempt told us all we needed to know about her choice, and the three of us turned towards Lili- Who had been slowly coasting a wall, getting closer to us. She raised her head, and then raised two claws, rumbling resolutely with low, angry tones. Mother chuffed happily at this, turning her attention to the wall- Balling her claws up and arching her back. I dropped to all fours, and tried to identify the source of the biggest, most pungent scents. Evie stood back, standing on her hindlegs and slowly inching her claws towards a piece of rock that had emerged from our digging attempts. She curled her tips around its side, and mom and I ducked. The sound of the stone crashing through the wall was followed by a sick splattering noise- Chitin and tendrils cracking and exploding, sending a wave of foul smell towards us. I felt my throat dry, but mother had already charged in- Her roar was already echoing loud enough to cover her steps and the angered rumbles of the worms. I rushed in, feeling the stale air slam against my hardshell as my claws made a booming wave against the soil. The cave was something not unlike a hollow: Large, spherical and utterly ripe with the damned things. Some of them were almost as thick as Lili’s torso- Just noxious masses of writhing scales and smaller tendrils, more than happy to slither all over each other. My hindlegs made a squishing sound the moment I landed into the nest proper, cracking down on chitin shells. Tendrils ineffectively battered against my legs, and I found myself wrapping a claw around something that squirmed and oozed. There was a ripping sound- Barely audible over mom’s roars- And the thing stopped moving. One down… ……A lot more to go. I don’t know how much time we spent clearing out the nest, or when Lili and Evie joined the fray. All I know is that I found myself staggering against a wall, coated in slippery remains, breath so short I was forced to inhale the sick air of this place. Mother rumbled victory in a low murmur, and her wave danced over an expanse of broken shells. We stopped to eat and clean ourselves up, with Lili digging some niches to rest into. Time passed in a blur, my joint aching less and less as I let myself be lulled by mom’s low, pleasant rumbles. She suddenly stopped, waves dying off, and I stood up. “The big one. The one that Abhra felt.” We both turned towards Lili, who was busying herself with clearing out the last shards of chitins from her hardshell. She stopped mid-motion and then gestured at the roof of the hollow. “It is still some ways off, but we can do it. “ Evie and I set out to dig a tunnel as fast as we could, claws frenetically ripping apart stone and dirt and fossilized chitin alike. We could feel mother behind us, her own claws submerged into the softer parts of the hollow. Waiting. Listening. And we could feel the beast too, each of its movements sending a cascade of rumbles through the dirt. It moved quickly, and at one point its waves started echoing down the tunnel we had used to reach this place. Lili let out a worried squeak and joined us, finding purchase with her claws under slabs and smaller boulders, hewing them out of the way. It wasn’t fast enough. It wasn’t fast enough and the damnable thing simply burst out of our tunnel- Jaws unfolding, each the size of a boulder. For a moment, our world was a mass of waves bouncing against each other again and again and again and- And then we heard mother roar, and we heard the wave made by a pot smashing against hard chitin. The worm turned around, a hundred tentacle whipping the walls of the chamber in a cacophony of waves and cracks, and mother ducked into our tunnel- Slamming herself against the dirt wall as she dug frantically. We joined her and dug- Dug as fast we could, faster than we ever had. I wrapped my claw around a stone and felt it come undone, Then the scents hit us. No. The scents. A hundred different ones, all at once. The scents and the warmth and the sounds- The sounds. Water rushing, things snapping, something that sounded like bats chirping. Behind us, the thing let out one final outraged wave and then Lili just pushed us through- Through the wall, and into the sheer heat. I admit I roared- I roared, lost as my waves expanded against terrain that sloped down and down and down. No walls to bounce against, no hard rock or dirt mounds. Just an infinite expanse of terrain sloping up and down. We tumbled, hardshells cracking against the ground. We tumbled until I dug my claws in and stopped us, a smell not unlike moss surrounding us. I don’t know how long we remained there, listening to each other breaths and how they rang endlessly. I don’t know, nor I care. All I could feel was the ache in my limbs, and a weird feeling of warmth all over my body. It was like basking in the glow of fire or magma, but I didn’t smell anything burning…Weird. Too weird, and I lost myself in contemplation, head still ringing with the worm’s awful sounds. Then Evie spoke up, barely audible over all the sounds. “Mom?…….Mom?” We turned towards the prone form next to her- Claws flattering the bed of vegetable matter beneath us, and then- She was breathing softly, chest falling and raising freely. I felt Evie slowly slump against her, rumbling with a relief that was lost among the dozens of different sounds. Realization hit me, and I shot up to my hindlegs. “Lili? Lili, where are you?” No answer- Just the feeling of air brushing rapidly against me. So I stood up, and roared. Roared until my throat was dry, until I heard a soft cry- Her cry- Ranging away. She was sitting down, and I felt the heat subdue the closer I got to her, the more I climbed something that sloped upwards. Lili was sitting down, fully immersed in her thoughts and shaking slightly. Simply just sitting there, head pointed forward. “Things. “ Her rumble was soft, tentative. I watched her shift uneasily, turning towards me. “Several types of them. They are-” A claw rubbed away some of the moss-things on the ground. “Like fungi, but..” She begun drawing symbols on the pseudo-moss. “Smaller. Like roots, there’s…Stuff over them. And it’s of a different… They’re thin, and then there are bigger things, some of them smelling differently. I could sense more creatures, more things there, before the big warmth went away.” We stood there in silence, and then she continued, more resolutely. “I don’t think this is a hollow. Too, too big and- And I felt a river. Bigger than any river inside a cavern of ours.” I sat down next to her, and grumbled at her. “I am not going to doubt, that, but…” “Past that there were things like rocks in the..Distance, I guess. Big ones. Then the big warmth went down and I can’t sense them, but…now?” “There’s something up there, in the not-ceiling It’s…Not warm, cold. And it’s…I. “Lili shifted to her hindlegs, slowly standing up. “It’s beautiful”; she said, one claw slowly reaching out to grasp at the air. ” And I want to see it up close.”

#scifi #xenofiction #moles #exploration #tunnels