Disclaimer: I don't own Manny, though I do own Chad, Butch and…well…I really don't own Wendy, now do I…?
A/N: Okay, my mind got to wandering and I just HAD to do this. Those of you who follow my stories know that I am smitten with Manny's character, and those of you who know me well know that I am determined to sniff out every little iota of his past. He intrigues me too much. So, you know…what you do read of her is right before she was killed. What about when Manny met her? What was THAT like? I know…
It was your average sunny day.
A bachelor herd of twelve had paused their wanderings beside an evergreen forest, trading the rolling hills for a shaded, cool haven. Like young leaves on the wind, this bunch didn't stay anywhere for long. But it wasn't just the need to find food that kept them roaming, but their leader's restless spirit.
Truly, the heart of a vagabond resided between his massive ribs, and it was this compelling urge to move that prevented him from basking in the afternoon sun's radiance with the others.
Manfred was his full name, but his herd of laid-back bulls knew him best as Manny. A mammoth just entering his prime, he knew few limitations to his strength. There was a determined sort of assertion in the way he walked and handled his curved tusks.
But that youthful confidence was about to be severely shaken.
For the moment he was standing in a small clearing next to the glassy pond that had drawn him there. The clear water felt good enough in his trunk, even better flowing down his throat, and wonderfully cool in his stomach.
The clearing slanted upwards, the pond resting beneath a small rock ledge. Trees overhung the little sanctuary, casting lazy shadows over the forest floor, though just enough spread their glorious rays through the evergreen needles to strike the water and give it a delicate glow.
However, something pulled his attention far away from the relaxing appeal of the clearing.
A smell.
An irresistible whiff swiftly grabbed him and set his mouth to watering: wildflowers.
His outstretched trunk led him up the slope, every other scent pushed aside, save that single, intoxicating aroma. Crouching down, he didn't hesitate in sliding his trunk beneath a patch of thick undergrowth. "Hmmmm…marigold?" he wondered aloud to himself, feeling around for the delicious blossoms. Even at the age of nineteen, Manny had an irresistible sweet tooth. "Wild violets?" he continued unconsciously. "Daisy? Chrysanthemum…? Daffodil? Bluebel—" He cut off, the tip of his trunk feeling something that didn't quite make sense. He wrapped the tip carefully around it and was shocked to find that it felt…furry. What kind of flower was furry? He gave it a sharp tug.
"Eeeeeep!"
"Aaaaaahhhhh!" Manny hollered when the something gave the tip of his trunk an alarmed kick. The mammoth bull backpedaled like mad, completely forgetting the overhanging ledge until his feet cleared it and he landed with a loud THOOM in the previously placid pond. His outcry was cut short when he realized he was sitting in water.
But even that thought was about to be forgotten.
"Oh goodness," came a voice, small and hesitant. "Oh my goodness…" it repeated, soft footsteps approached the sloshing, churned up pond.
Manfred grumbled to himself, pushing back sopping wet hair from his eyes. He heaved a deep sigh. This was just what he needed. His attention was fixed on his current position (and the getting out of it) when a voice asked him: "Oh, are you okay?"
"Just fine," he groused, he looked up, his expression sour. "Absolutely…" the acerbic expression swiftly melted from his features, "…lovely…."
Staring down at him with a mixture of worry, surprise, and amusement, was a creature he was sure he'd never seen the likes of.
It was covered, from head to foot, with pale amber fur. It stood, with poise, on four slender legs and dainty feet. Two spiraling tusks curved gracefully down from its mouth. But what so held his attention its pair of large brown eyes; both unfathomably deep. The fact that he was still sitting in a pond was easily forgotten. It took Manfred a moment to realize just what he was looking at: a mammoth female.
But when did mammoth female's ever look like…like that?
"Um, excuse me?" the mammoth female said (for what was possibly the hundredth time).
Manny blinked. "Huh?"
"I asked," she repeated obviously impatient, "if you were alright."
Manny blinked again. After a second, he noticed she had spoken and replied with a dazed: "Yeah…".
The mammoth female gave him a skeptical look. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he answered, his tone still that of someone who wasn't quite sure just what was going on.
The mammoth female stood there for an instant, not really knowing what to do. It wasn't every day that some strange mammoth bull stared at you like you'd fallen from the sky.
Manny's young heart beat a wild cadence.
"So do you nee—"
"Manfred! What's yours?" he blurted.
The mammoth female arched a perplexed eyebrow. Just off-hand she thought to herself: Wow, that's one mouthful of a name…Manfred…. "Do you need…help?" she inquired.
"Yeah, yeah…sure…" he nodded slowly, his eyes still locked on the female. If he didn't have a trunk, the female would have seen his dropped jaw. As it was, she could just see his stunned expression.
"Well…?" She proffered her trunk to help hoist him up.
Still he sat there.
The mammoth female blinked. Then, realizing she wasn't going to get anywhere with the dumbstruck bull, she lowered her trunk and sighed.
"Wendy!" called a shrilling voice from somewhere in the woods. "Wendy where are you?"
Glancing over her shoulder quickly, the shemoth muttered something under her breath. She turned back to Manny. "Look, I don't know who you are—"
"Manfred," he reminded her insistently.
"Right," she went on, "I'm sorry about startling you…but I gotta' go."
And before he could even begin to protest (he was halfway up), she'd disappeared into the undergrowth.
Manny didn't know how long he sat there, his fur saturated from the middle to his tail end. All he could think about were the images that kept rolling through his mind. The most lovely mental reel he'd ever viewed wouldn't cease its enthralling loop—wouldn't cut off.
"Manny!" someone hollered.
He didn't reply.
"Manny?"
The young bull gave a start when someone nudged his shoulder with a tusk. "Oh…hey Chad…" he replied, his tone as dazed as his expression. He looked with cloudy eyes back to where the female had last been.
Chad was a tall young bull. Though a tad bit younger than Manny, he was much taller and quite lanky in his youth. Everyone knew Chad by his oddly round eyes and everyone agreed that he was wise beyond his years. In effect, he was Manfred's confidant and best friend. "Manny…?" Chad repeated, blinking in a most perplexed manner.
"What happened to you buddy?!" blurted another voice. This time a rather short, rotund bull by the name of Butch burst through the undergrowth. If any bull enjoyed mud baths, Butch was obsessed with them. You could say he had a certain…smell about him. Despite his odd scent Butch was quite accepted among the herd even though no one wanted to stand downwind of him. He was a year older than Manfred, if only in body. "What happened, Manny?!" he spewed again, nearly bowling over Chad in his headlong fall though the brush. "Manny, what happened to ya'?"
"I…don't know…."
Both Chad and Butch exchanged worried glances. This was not the grounded, down-to-earth herd-leader they were used to.
"Manny…" Chad began, leaning forward. "You realize you're sitting in a pond…right?"
"Pond…?" Manny answered hazily, not bothering to look over.
Butch looked up the slope, seeing the rubble of the rock overhang, he inquired: "What put ya' here, Manny? Whatdja' see?"
"A mammoth," he replied simply.
"G'wan," Butch prompted.
"Pale fur."
"Right."
Manny slowly stood, his pawing feet churning up the muddy bottom once more. "And deep brown eyes…".
Once again, Chad and Butch exchanged a glance. "Uh-oh," Butch muttered.
"And a name!" Manfred declared, his mood uncharacteristically animated. For the first time, he looked over at his friends; his ears stiff with elation and his eyes oddly alight. "I know her name!"
Butch heaved a heavy sigh, his ears drooping with that deep exhalation. Chad shook his head sadly.
Manny, in his ecstasy didn't notice their disapproving expressions, rambled on, looking back up the way she'd gone. "I saw her right there! I swear! She was there as plain as the trunk on my face!"
SMACK!
Manfred staggered back in the pool, his features gone blank from the stinging blow to the face.
Typically placid Chad pulled his smarting trunk back, almost regretting that little slap. However painful, it got the job done. "A mammoth female, you say?" he inquired, arching an eyebrow.
"Wendy," Manfred replied, blinking slowly.
"Yeah…right…. " Butch sighed once more. His feet sloshing in the pond as he walked over to Manny. "Buddy," he began, his tone almost patronizing. "When was the last time you saw a mammoth female."
"Five, six minutes ago—"
"No! No," Butch interrupted, shaking his head and waving the tip of his trunk—as though trying to clear images of that pale-furred beauty from his friend's mind. "Before…Wendy…"
"Umm…." Manny thought back, his eyes rolled to the side and he flicked an ear in contemplation. "About…seven years ag—"
"Exactly!" Butch blurted, stomping his foot in the water for effect. "Buddy," he began, pacing around his friend, "it's been seven years since you've seen a female, and let me tell you…" the rotund bull leaned in closer to whisper, "it does things to ya'…."
"In essence," Chad concluded, "it's been so long since you've seen a female, you don't remember properly looked like, and then the first time you see one again—"
Butch interrupted once more, blurting: "Your head falls off and it don't get screwed back on right, that's what happens!"
Looking from one of his friends to the other, Manny countenance was that of a confused person. "Huh?"
"I knew this guy once," Butch began, his voice going hollow and his eyes frightened ovals. "His name was Vinny—"
"It was Vincent," Chad corrected pointedly.
"But we all called him Victor," Butch recalled, frowning as memories came back.
"What?"
"Please don't ask," Chad sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "It's not a story I relish in telling."
"But this is a different story," Butch insisted, his voice grew hollow again. "This is about the day his life…ended!"
"Um….?" Manny leaned away from his pungent friend.
Chad rolled his eyes at Butch's dramatic display.
"It all started about like with you," he began, "with a pair of big…pretty…eyes attached to a pretty little mammoth female. Then…he began disappearing in the night, showing back up the next morning—"
"With a rather idiotic grin on his face, too."
Butch frowned at Chad, who merely grinned in apology.
"Then on night…he vanished! He never…ever, came back!"
"Everyone said he was "snared"," Chad scoffed, "whatever that means."
"It means taken!" Butch finished, getting rather irked with the lanky bull by now for stealing all his dramatic thunder. "By a female!"
Manny quirked an eyebrow. "A female took him…away...?"
"Meaning," Chad added, his expression grave, "he got "the stomach butterflies"."
"An' a bad case of the hot tingles."
"He fell in love."
"He got snared for life!"
"For ever!"
Butch shook his head once more, his expression still worried, "Unless you want to end up chained for the rest of your life, I'd forget I ever saw her pal."
"But you didn't see this female, Butch!" Manfred protested, his eyes going wide again, "she—"
"Pale fur," Chad sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Deep eyes," Butch mock swooned. "No, we arrived just late enough."
Chad nodded emphatically. "That makes us the lucky ones."
A/N: The next part is up to you. Will there be a next part? Really, it could be a stand-alone in my opinion, but…I'll leave it to you guys. I have ideas for more and they could certainly be expanded upon…I'll be counting the votes. Even if it's a yes, I probably won't be doing anything here till Playing Cat and Mammoth is done with. The next part would probably be dealing with Wendy (I myself have named her Wendy even though Millie seems to be rather popular around here.) and first thoughts about him. Also one of Wendy's friends would have a rather large input in the situation (that shrill voice? Yup.)
Kudos to those who caught the Sandlot allusion ^^. I couldn't help myself!
