So, I didn't participate in the "Animorphs Christmas in July" project, but I fell in love with the *sample* prompt. "Yes: Rachel/Tobias; "Only the Dead have seen the end of war"; toenails. No: Mentions of Cassie; Use of the letter 'e'; Rachel being human."
No use of the letter "e"? This is what we call My Department.
Written on the road north of San Diego, hence Anchorman references in the summary.
‹How's it going?›
I'm in bird morph, looking down on our coast-Pacific. Or Atlantic. Possibly third, for all you know. I can't just blab about it. Long story. Point is, I'm a bird today.
For two hours, anyway.
‹Um...› I don't want to talk about it, not with Tobias, so I soar up a yard or two and whirl about. ‹It's okay.›
‹All right.›
Tobias isn't what you call a loudmouth.
So I float on, laughing at small birds that pass by and snag bugs out of thin air, or fall low to grasp struggling worms. ‹Thanks for this,‹ I call. ‹It's fun.›
‹Totally. No imposition, it's fun to show off.› And Tobias spirals upwards, on a gust of hot air. ‹So how's gymnastics going?›
‹In comparison to this? Boring. No, I was in morph back on Sunday, right, so on Monday I show up with an itchy foot.›
‹What's that got to do with morphing?›
‹Hold on. I look down, and okay, on Friday, right, I had cut my nails. So, morphing was okay, but if I go human again, it's all grown back!›
Tobias-I don't know how to say it-grins in his mind. Ax can do it, too. I just, pick up on his joy. It's amazing. ‹Sucks!›
‹Oh, it's nothing. It was funny.›
‹Good for you.›
‹Anything...› What's possibly going on, for him? ‹Cool, that you watch?›
‹Ax is hacking into TV. So, that's a thing.›
‹Sounds good.›
‹His analysis is what's worth sticking around for. But too much of him asking ‹what is this human custom› and I want to bail.›
‹Glad to join you.› I would want to talk with humans, in his...talons. His position. Oh, who am I without taking risks? I go for it. ‹This will sound dumb.›
‹Go for it.›
‹I miss my dad.›
‹That's not dumb.›
‹Okay, I know. It's just, so what? I should know how to work through this.› Tobias hasn't got much of a family to miss. So it's awkward, bringing it up around him. Do I sound as if I'm complaining?
‹Your dad's a TV guy, right? Anchor?›
‹Right.›
‹What station? Or, what kind of topics?›
‹All-around. Sports, local junk. Not too much national politics or anything.› I snort. ‹Or wars. You patch in a big shot from a big-city studio, to talk on top of a bunch of body bags.›
‹That's a plus of our tiny front, huh? No annoying pundits wanting to talk to you.›
‹That's right. How did Dad put it? Only a casualty is through with war. Anybody living will just wait for broadcasts from abroad.›
‹Sounds optimistic.›
‹In a sad way, it was. For an anchor? Or a warrior. History won't pass you up, you won't run out of jobs to do. You can always go on fighting, as long as you want. That sounds awful, I know, but...›
‹It's fair. In its way.›
‹No, don't just say that to sound comforting.›
‹I'm not. I actually just had a thought.›
‹Go for it.›
‹Ax and his hacking. TV shows, right? Ax could totally find your dad's shows. Any city, any station, any day, any hour. It's not much, but...›
‹But it's a start,› I say. ‹Thanks.›