Chapter Four
Gapra Whitewood was bloody awful when you were by yourself. It always felt like there were things watching you in the shade, and not kindly, like in Sunleth Waterscape. So Lightning marched on, publicly wearing her bored I don't give a rat's ass about anything here & I have a gunsaber and know how to use it face, but inside she was in a disquieted state of mind. She kept seeing something out of the corner of her eye ever since she got here, a flash of white, like a deer's tail when it leaps from its cover, bounding through the undergrowth and suddenly disappearing, like it had never been. She had a strong sense something was trailing her, or at least interested enough to track her scent; but the odd thing was it never gave itself away, no matter how many traps she laid, or how few times she let her eyes drift to the side of the trail. Oh, it was clever. So she idly pretended to flick her gunsaber blade when walking, the regular metallic clang the only sound of civilization within 50 miles. Too bad it was of no comfort in the cool autumn afternoon.
She normally kept in blackout mode when travelling like this, especially in these early autumn nights, where the moon could light her way, but tonight she laid a fire, she was that uneasy. She kept a careful watch beyond the fire, switching position erratically to confuse any creature watching; night sounds pressed around her as the fire died down and she grew sleepy, bracing her back against an ironwood tree, its bole sturdy enough to watch her back for a few hours. Then she would be off at dawn, tracing the old trail in the falling yellow leaves, until she made it to the other side of the forest, on the edge of New Palumpolum.
Eyes would come and go in the night just outside the circle of light thrown by the dying embers, but a pair stayed, and gave itself away by staying put; it blinked every once in a great while, the reflective layer behind the retina glowing green – not the pale intense yellow green of a feline, but a softer, cooler glow reminiscent of silvery green willow leaves, or palest glacier melt with a hint of blue in the green.
In the morning Lightning was a bit startled and more than a little grossed out at the dead rabbit left by the fire; it looked half-gnawed, its poor sad knowing eyes permanently opened in surprise; she almost made to kick it away, but changed her mind and laid it on the near dead ashes of last night's fire, handling it carefully, examining the bite marks, wondering what creature captured the swift little mammal before setting it down on the warm ash. She walked away down the path to the scent of roasting rabbit , a curiously homey scent hanging in the air. The day progressed like the previous one, and again Lightning nodded off to the crackle of the fire, counting crickets while carefully sharpening her saber edge. She awoke before dawn, a snap of the resin from a pine log jolting her awake; she thought she heard another snap in the direction of the fire, and carefully kept her face smooth, her eyelids downcast; there- she caught a glimpse of something, a bit of silver-white, a barest hint of dirty-yellow. She thumbed the safety off the gunsaber and waited; something gave the barest squeak as it gave up its life nearby, and the flat metallic smell of blood rose in the cool night air, but she kept deathly still, anticipating an attack that never came.
Morning brought a peculiar sense of déjà vu, as the fire was host to another dead rabbit, this time not gnawed, but its neck neatly broken, and the little neck vein opened to bleed it dry, ready to roast. Lightning's lips quirked before she flipped out her survival knife and swiftly gutted it, peeling back the soft brown fur and neatly tying up the carcass to hang on a stout stick over the dying ash of her campfire. There, let's see how you like that, my unwelcome visitor. Show me your teeth, I'll show you mine.
She thought about it while she walked, and by the time the sun hit noon, she had her plan. When she made camp, she made a fire as usual, but had taken hundreds of sweetgum seed balls and strewn them around the campfire and thrown several in the fire, making a pretty blue flame that popped and spat as the resin burnt away. She put her back to a stout specimen of tree and dozed off, gunsaber in hand as usual.
A pair of pale green eyes slowly flitted nearer to the fire; it watched warily, so the large beautiful female sleeping would not wake, then it was at the edge of the firelight, the farthest it had ever been from the safe shelter of the trees. A soft fat rabbit dangled off a claw-like fingernail, then was clutched tight as the fire spat and popped another sweetgum ball. Entranced, it watched as they burnt away like a miniature fireworks display going off in the ruddy orange of the campfire coals. The rabbit dropped, forgotten, as more sweetgums were scooped up and thrown in; totally distracted the creature watched the pops time and time again, until a cool edge of a saber whistled past its ear, landing against a soft white throat.
"Gotcha." She softly said. It went beserk, ducking and rolling, furiously digging at the tree roots to escape; Lightning took a breath, then plunged her hand into the dark, grabbing cloth, then the scruff of a neck under matted filthy hair, and hauled, bracing against the tree roots and cursing as she did.
She fished out a squirming bundle of pale flesh and dirty white hair, all bloody and slinging snot everywhere; sharp little animal white teeth sparkled in the dim light snapping and gnashing as a feral growl escalated into a screeching whine, scrabbling for a foothold or handhold where it could wriggle free and escape the firm grasp of the frowning warrior. "Now that's enough!" she firmly commanded. It made a curious noise, a squeak almost like a puzzled child, then it slowly stopped fighting to get away, and began to grab at her, making mewling noises.
"No. NO. Now behave, and I'll set you down. If you don't I'll roast you over the fire, just like the rabbit…understand? "
It hung there limply like a cat, its pale green eyes luminous, curious; it licked its lips, then began to sniff loudly and interestedly. She continued, but in a gentler tone: "Look, I'm not going to hurt you, unless you try to hurt me. Do you have a name? A home? I do – I'm Lightning."
It stared back with the intensity of a thousand suns before croaking a syllable: "Ope."
"Did you bring me the rabbits? Or are you just hungry?"
It silently looked at her, uncomprehending, until its stomach answered for it, growling loudly. Lightning tilted her head, then keeping her finger on the trigger on her gunsaber, she let go of the creature and he dropped. It scuttled away, but kept just inside the edge of the firelight, which was a good sign. She threw on another branch, and set the rabbit up to roast; then she sat back to observe the creature.
It was small, a little more than 2/3rds of her height, almost elfin in appearance, painfully thin arms and legs protruding from bits of mismatched rags of clothing: long dark shorts, a jacket that was yellow beneath a good coating of dirt, a scrap of turquoise tied around its neck; in fact, everything was wearing good coat of dirt, including a shock of hair that stood out in all the directions of the wind and waved with every movement of its head. Feet were bare, but tough as oxhide. It had a human-like face with preternaturally large pale green eyes dominating its features, and a rather cute little pointed chin, which would jut out in such a resolute manner when it felt contrary.
The broken fingernails at the end of long soft-looking fingers dug into the cooked meat eagerly; even the bones were sucked dry in a small orgy of comestible bliss, then it rolled on its side, burped and dozed off, content as a cat by the warm rocks of the little firepit.
She didn't see it when she got up and resumed her journey, but it did show itself as it travelled with her, a good fifty yards to a quarter mile behind her. Things distracted it, but it somehow stayed within eyeshot. She paused midday, at a little hill, where a steaming beck tumbled down into a jewelled Etro's eye of a pool some 50 yards below. She was beginning to feel grungy after 4 days walking with no bathing facilities, so she decided to chance a dip in the pool. She carefully hid the gunsaber from nosy little fingers and stripped off her boots and belts before wading in. The water was blissfully warm, geothermally heated from a vent below the earth, just like the Sulya Springs back home. She ducked and played until she felt clean, then slowly waded back to the edge; with a gut sickening wrench, she slipped on the algae at the edge and fell back in; frustration turned to fear as she realized she could not pull her foot free. Sighing she glared, then struggled until exhausted.
The Ope creature finally noticed her in the pool, then after gibbering with a somewhat …amused…tone, it jumped in, disappearing with nary a splash.
A few moments later, she felt the rocks that trapped her foot in the spring move, letting Lightning pull it free. She hobbled onshore, white faced from the pain and flopped. It waited until she dozed off before approaching her; she awoke to the odd sensation of a healing spell, the long pale fingers glowing green in the shade; she drifted off at the soft touch, stroking her ankle, then later lurched awake at the surprise of a sharp tooth scraping her ankle bone as it avidly sucked and laved its soft pale lips on the skin of her foot, licking between the toes in an ecstasy of worship. It looked up at her through a thick tangled silk of waving argenate hair, now much whiter from the dunking in the pool; it almost looked…cute, until it smiled and started to lightly gnaw at the ankle bone again.
She lightly kicked it off, sternly addressing it: "You should ask before touching, little beast."
It rolled on the ground, giggling madly, still in an ecstasy that it had been able to worship her and not get kicked clear out the Gapra Whitewoods by a booted foot. She rose haltingly, then realized the spell had healed the break, and she visibly softened. Her husky contralto delivered two words the creature never expected: "Thank you. Yes, it did hurt, and it was…kind of you to fix it." She sighed and her tone took on the familiar ring of rejection as she looked at the path up the hill, the autumn sun beating down on the leaves, setting them aglow with golds, curries, and bronzes against the cerulean enamel of the sky: "I should be going now. I have a mission. This is goodbye, Ope…I guess."
It transformed in a trice, the little nose crinkling, lips rolling back to expose the pointed little canines, its hands hooking into claws and shrilling in a decidedly angry tone; it gave its peculiar hyena-like bark before launching itself in a leap to land near her feet, blocking her path, where it snapped with a hissing rage now; Lightning's eyes grew cold and her wrist snapped the saber edge of the gunblade out, not six inches from its face: "I said: I have to go, Ope. Back off." Her voice softened a touch as it went silent, the eyes staring fearfully at the keen blade: "There's no room on mission for..um…you. Now go away."
She slowly walked backwards for ten steps, then turned and started to climb up the hill back to the path. A howl cut through the air and stopped her dead; it was no word she could understand, but the tone was unmistakable: She knew it…felt, in that dismal, pitiful cry she heard all the pain she knew: It was all the times she missed her mother, prayed for her father, the sick, gut-wrenching ache of her sister turning into crystal, the pitiful howl of a deserted child, abandoned in the middle of nowhere, missing the warmth and love it took for granted.
She slowly turned, then opened her arms and let the nasty little creature crawl into them; it buried its head into her chest and made excited little mewling noises as it snuggled in; she gasped as a small flash of pain exploded on her breast, and she fiercely grabbed a fistful of silvery locks and pulled its face off her nipple none too gently; it gave her a sly look at first, then pled with a pale green eye and a softer mewl; her shirt was stained red and she arched an eyebrow; it gave a sad little sound then touched it with a glowing finger, healing the naughty love-bite. Some unspoken communication took place between azure and leaf irids, before it slowly lowered its elfin head, lips returning to suckle the pretty pink crest of her breast, but more gently. She wrapped her arms around it firmly, letting its legs wrap around her waist and settle in for a long nap before she turned back to the path. As the bizarre Madonna and child slowly disappeared down the leaf covered path of Gapra Whitewood, a soft murmur was borne back on the autumn air: "Baby…", later answered by a giggling mewl.
