A/N
Welcome back recruits to the next installment in our Stories of the Sky Army. Hope you enjoy this because I can't focus on any other story than this series. Let's beginning the next book, Hunger, which will not only tell the story of Jane but also the story of how Jerome and Mitch became friends.
Hunger
Prologue
Ten Years ago
Once upon a time, in a deep forest within the land known as New Canada, there was a small cabin, home to three. A loving husband and beautiful wife, together having a young boy of the age of seven. Deep within the woods, this family lived in peace.
The young boy stood at the door, watching his father prepare for work. First, the old man threw on his jacket, then his boots, then threw the family axe over his shoulder. It gleamed in the early morning light. The boy smiled, watching his father practice on the nearby tree as he did every morning. Then the old man turned back to the boy, smiling as well.
"I'm heading out, Mitchell," the old man nodded.
"You'll be home soon today right? Ma is out late so you have to be home early," the boy cheered.
"If we're lucky," he nodded.
"Dad…" the boy sighed. "When can I learn how to get in the family business?"
"When you're old enough to hold this," the old man chuckled, handing the boy the axe.
It dropped in the boy's hand, hitting the ground with a grand thud. The boy tried to pull the axe up but failed. The father took the axe from the boy, swinging it back over his shoulder. The boy nodded, waving to his boy as he left. He waited for his father to say what he normally said as he left.
"Keep an eye out for Baccas!"
Another day, thought the boy. He cleaned up their little cabin, made his bed, and prepared some food. It was about lunch time when he heard it. The tumbling in the family's trash bins. The boy moved slowly outside, rounding the house, leaning around the corner and spotting the trash bins.
The boy gasped. It was a fuzzy beast digging through the bins, munching on some trashed meat. The dark brown fur was matted and tangled, holding bits of knotted leaves and twigs. Every time the beast's mouth opened, it revealed sharp fangs which quickly ripped off the leftover meat on the bone. Heart racing, the boy couldn't move. He heard his father's voice yelling at him. Run. Run. Run.
The boy looked around. Between being terrified and mortified, he felt sorry for the creature. Obviously, the beast was hungry. The boy slowly stepped forward, though didn't know why. A compelling feeling of peace and sorrow washed over him. It was so hungry. Why couldn't the boy just…offer him so food? He took another step forward, stepping on a twig and listening to the snap. The beast looked up, spotting the boy. The boy stepped back, and then gulped.
The creature snarled, baring his fangs. They seemed to sparkle in the light that drifted from the trees. The creature stepped forward, one fuzzy paw at a time. The boy whimpered, stepping back. The creature kept stepping forward until finally the boy fell to the ground. The creature stood over him, tall and proud. He pulled back his hand, ready to strike.
"Are…are you hungry?" he whispered.
The paw remained raised as the beast's eyes glistened with though. He looked around slowly, eventually nodding, putting his hands by his side. He bowed his head, continuing to nod but avoiding eye contact. The boy sat up.
"My…my ma made some…fresh bread this morning," he gulped. "It's for lunch…we…we can share."
The beast perked, smiling with sharp teeth. The boy nodded slowly, stepping around the house. He heard the creature following him. What was he thinking? Letting this beast in! His father told him not to do such things. But…the being looked so sad, so hungry. How could the boy not oblige and feed the hungry creature.
They entered the house, sitting at the table and shared some of the bread and sandwiches. Not a word was spoken. The boy only ate once sandwich. The creature ate three and half. The boy was surprised he didn't more. Halfway through the fourth one though, the beast stopped and set the food down on the plate, looking up at the boy.
"Why?"
The boy was surprised. He'd never heard a Bacca speak. His father told him they were far too stupid to speak. They were mindless creatures, only good for their hides. The youngling sitting across from the boy looked sadly up at the boy, brown eyes glittering.
"Why?" repeated the boy.
"Why are you feeding me?" the youngling replied.
"You looked hungry," answered the boy.
"No one just feeds a bacca…"
"I'm not no one…I'm Mitch. What's your name?"
"My name?"
"You must have a name?"
The youngling paused a great moment. Suddenly voices, footsteps. The two children leapt to their feet. The boy knew it was his father, returning early as he had been hoping earlier. Now it frightening. The boy ran to the window, opening it up and motioning for the youngling to run. The bacca leapt out the window, but stood on the other side, waiting a moment.
"Jerome," he eventually said. "My name's Jerome."
"Nice to meet you," the boy hummed, sticking his hand out for a shake.
The bacca shook it gladly. Then ran into the woods, vanishing from sight. The boy sighed, turning around as the front door was opened. The father came in, suspecting nothing. The boy ate what was left of the bacca's sandwich. It had hair in it though, but he had to keep off his father's suspicions.
"Father?"
"Yes, son?"
"Do you think…Baccas now how to talk?"
The old man laughed heartily. The boy scrunched in his chair, waiting.
"No, son, no. Baccas don't speak. They are only beasts of the hunt, waiting for us to kill them or them to kill us."
"Why?"
"That is the law the wild." The father seemed proud by this answer.
"But…why?"
"Because," the father eventually retorted.
As the boy got up, he heard his father whisper under his breath, "we are both hungry animals."