Hound Mushing

Marigold had always wanted a pet, but her parents thought she was yet too young to have one, and so she had to get comfortable with her father's pets. It wasn't so bad, actually. Xibalba would allow his daughter to play with them, though La Muerte was still reluctant to let her near Medianoche by herself, fearing she might spook him and get hurt. This didn't mean Xibalba wouldn't take her out for a ride every now and then.

She had not yet visited her father's realm, her mother would not allow it, thinking it was far too dangerous for a six year-old, so Xibalba brought over Garra and Colmillo wherever he could (to Marigold's delight and the Remembered's dismay).

In this occasion, Marigold spent the evening resting against Garra's curled up furry form, while Colmillo took a nap nearby. She was reading a book about dogs that she'd casually found in the library. Right now she was reading a chapter about sled dogs, and how they were used in a certain foreign land with snow and ice half of the year to pull sleds. It was nagging at her curiosity, like every little girl her age she wanted to imitate everything she saw. But where would she get dogs and a sled…

Marigold glanced at Garra and Colmillo and they lifted their heads off the ground in curiosity, wondering what was going through her head.

"Guys, would you like to play a little game?"

Colmillo tilted his head, as if asking 'what kind of game?'

"First, we need to get a sled, come on."

The hounds stared at Marigold in confusion when she stood up and walked out of the room, but they nevertheless followed her. Marigold ran down the halls, her eyes scanning for anything she could use as a sled, but up to then there was nothing that could be useful. Or at least that's what she thought. When she was in the kitchen, she hid from view from the servants who prepared the next batch of food in case the tables ran out. Just then, Marigold saw a small wooden fruit box, big enough so that she could fit in. She watched as one of the cooks poured the contents of the fruit box into the table and then placed it back down.

Marigold approached the cook and tugged on her skirt. "Excuse me?"

The calaca looked down in surprise to see her princess. "Princess? Is there something you need?"

"Can I have that box?" Marigold inquired, pointing at the wooden fruit box.

"That one?" the woman inquired.

"Yes, I want to play with it. Can I have it?"

The spirit smiled kindly. "I don't see why not, princess. Of course you may take it."

Marigold grinned and went forward to grab the box, not noticing that the servants were nervous with the presence of the hounds. Waving at the kind woman for the box, Marigold pushed it all the way back to her room, again followed by the hounds, who still didn't understand what she wanted to do. Once there, Marigold ran to her small table to fetch her painting kit-a gift from her father for her second birthday-, and grabbed a few jars of colors and brushes.

Garra and Colmillo watched as Marigold started her work with the fruit box; brushes flew and colored the wood, painting it pink and making shapes of hearts and flowers and stars. Once she was satisfied with her work, Marigold went to her toy chest and took out a long jumping rope for those days when she played outside in the courtyard. The hounds had a bad feeling when she gave them a mischievous look.

"Guuys…" she chimed.

They had an idea to what she was going to do.

Meanwhile, Xibalba was in the Dining Hall, taking a taste of these new macaroons he had heard so much about; he had to admit, they were really good. His wife had decided that maybe there should be more food form other countries, and the cooks were trying out some French recipes. How he loved to taste out new desserts! He felt a presence behind.

"Have you ever heard about 'knocking the door'?" he inquired.

"If I knocked from all the way there, you wouldn't hear it, hermanito." Zipacna snickered, before looking down at the tray of colorful macaroons. "Hey, I think I've seen those before."

"Macaroons. French." Xibalba replied, taking another one into his mouth to taste the sweetness.

Zipacna took one of the macaroons-a green colored one-and devoured it, licking his fingers in relishing when he tasted the sweetness. "Yeah, definitively I've tasted them before."

"I wouldn't be surprised, I supposed you visited lots of places on your… travels, right?" Xibalba inquired with a small hint of acidic resentment in his voice.

"Yeah, while I didn't go to the famous 'Paris' I stayed a few days in a French village, and I must say they may be snobs with a distaste for cheese but their wine is really good." Zipacna replied, oblivious to his brother's mood change.

Before Xibalba could say anything else, there was a commotion in the halls of the castle that called their attention. One of the guards came running towards them, scared out of his wits. "Majesty, your daughter-!"

Immediately, Xibalba grew alarmed. "Did something happen to her?!"

Before the guard could reply, Zipacna lifted him and started shaking him violently. "Don't you just stand there! Is my niece okay?!"

"Let him talk, Zipacna, would you?!"

"Uhh…" It took the guard a few seconds to react. "She's running down the hall with-"

He was abruptly interrupted once again as howling sounds and wood screeching against the marble floor echoed in the halls; a blur of black and color ran into the room, scaring spirits. When the two gods realized what was going on, they were both surprised and shocked.

Garra and Colmillo were pulling a wooden fruit box painted in bright colors by a rope tied around their waists, and in the box was Marigold, laughing. It was clear that even the dogs were having fun.

"Mari-!" Xibalba groaned in frustration. "Marigold!"

"Hey, isn't that like the sled dogs in Alaska?" Zipacna inquired.

"Shut up and help me with this!"

Extending their wings, they flew forward and landed a few feet in front the 'sled team'. Xibalba snapped his sharp teeth at his hounds. "Garra! Colmillo! Quietos!"

At the sound of their master's voice, both hounds braked sharply, sending Marigold flying through the air with a yelp of surprise to land in her uncle's arms.

"Epa!" Zipacna chuckled. "Where do you think you're going, sobrina?"

Marigold felt her father's gaze upon her, and she glanced back at him nervously as Zipacna placed her down; Xibalba stared down at his child with crossed arms and a mild frown. Garra and Colmillo whined and crawled behind Marigold to try and hide from their master's glare.

"What do you three have to say?" he inquired, though it was obvious he was only talking to Marigold.

"Come on, hermanito! They were just having a bit of fun! Besides, they didn't hurt anyone!" Zipacna tried to defend his niece, but felt a shiver down his spine when his brother's glare turned to him. "Okay, I get it, I get it." He walked back to the food table.

"I was just playing, papi." Marigold said innocently, but looked down when her father's expression didn't change.

"Sweetie, you realize you could have hurt someone, don't you?" Xibalba continued. "You can't just do whatever you want anytime you want, you could hurt someone. You could have asked me or your mamá for permission."

"I was just trying to mush."

The dark god raised an eyebrow curiously. "Mush?"

"It's when doggies pull a sled with a person on it."

"Yes, I think I've heard of it…" he glanced at her 'sled', then back at her with a small grin. "How about we give your little sled a few modifications?"

After a whole afternoon helping newly-deceased people reunite with their loved ones, La Muerte was glad to have a bit of time to herself to spend with her own family. She was surprised when Zipacna told her Xibalba and Marigold had something to show her, but he wouldn't tell her what, only that she would like it. In the courtyard, she found her dear husband waiting for her with a smile and a bouquet of roses.

"Ay, Balby, you old flatter." She smiled, accepting the bouquet.

"What?" Xibalba teleported behind her and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her clos to him and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Can't a husband show his wife how much he loves her?" he kissed his her neck and tasted her sugar skin, making her giggle.

"Hey, I'm still here, you know." Zipacna lifted an arm, rolling his eyes.

"What was this thing you wanted to show me, Balby?" La Muerte inquired.

"Oh, that." Xibalba snickered "Have you ever heard of mushing, mi amor?"

"It's a way of locomotion in the northern countries when there's too much snow. Why?"

"You'll see." The dark god glanced at Zipacna and gave him a nod. Zipacna grinned and called out for his niece.

"Marigold, you can come out."

To La Muerte's surprise, Garra and Colmillo walked into the courtyard, pulling something with ropes around their waists. A small sled carved from the fruit box came into view, and Marigold was on top of it, waving at her mother.

"Look, mami! I'm a musher!"

La Muerte started to giggle when she saw the crudely-made sled, but she had to admit it was pretty at first sight. Marigold looked up at her mother hopefully. "Do you like my sled, mami?"

"It's beautiful, chiquita." La Muerte smiled, stroking her daughter's cheek and then glancing at the sled. "Did you make it yourself?"

"Well… Papi helped me paint it."

Zipacna coughed to call her attention.

"And Tío Zipacna assembled it."

The caiman-head grinned proudly.

"But this sport is meant for snowy terrain, isn't it?" La Muerte inquired.

"Well, yeah, but there's not snow here."

La Muerte thought for a moment, before smiling at her daughter. "Well, we'll see what to do about that little detail later. Now let's go for dinner, okay?"

"Yay!"

Marigold poked the hounds' rear lightly with a stick, and they needed no more signals. They simply advanced forward with a bit of difficulty, pulling the sled along with them. Once she was certain her daughter was out of earshot, La Muerte whispered into her husband's ear. "Balby, I need your help with something."

"Anything for you, my dear." Xibalba smiled at her as he pulled her closer with a wing.

"I'm still here…" Zipacna groaned.

Xibalba ignored his brother and continued. "What do you need, mi amor?" La Muerte whispered into his ear, and he grinned. "That's a good idea."

Zipacna tapped on his brother's shoulder with a claw. "Care to fill me in, you two?"

Next morning, Marigold was awakened by a knock on her door. She let out a sleepy groan of frustration as she tried to hide under her pillows and covers.

"Oh, Marigold!" Xibalba chimed as he peeked is head through the door and saw his daughter still in bed. "Time to wake up!"

"Papi, it's Saturday!" Marigold pressed a pillow against her face.

"Come on, my sweetie! Why don't you come take a look at the window?" the dark god chuckled as he glided towards the bed and pulled the covers off Marigold playfully. "You're going to like it."

"Can't you wait until later?" she still tried to shield herself with her wings.

"Marigold, if you don't get out of bed right now you'll make me use the 'secret weapon'."

At the mention of the secret weapon, Marigold immediately jumped out of bed; Xibalba chuckled as he caught her in his arms before she could fall out of bed. "You should be a bit more careful, my dear."

"What's so important that you woke me up so early, papi?" Marigold rubbed her eyes.

"I figured you'd want to take a look outside."

"Why?"

"Close your eyes. It's a surprise."

She was confused, but nevertheless closed her eyes and rested her head against her father's chest as Xibalba walked out of her room, and down the hall. She wondered what kind of surprise her father wanted to show her.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now, mi florecita."

Marigold opened her eyes, and gasped in wonder. The whole courtyard was covered in a layer of white snow, and snowflakes were falling from the sky; the paths had turned to ice, not slippery enough to have someone trip, but enough so people could skate. "Wow."

"Since we're in December, your mami thought we should start decorating for Christmas, and you can mush more easily now." Xibalba smiled at his daughter.

La Muerte was already outside, in the table underneath a parasol for this climate. She beamed at her two loved ones as Xibalba glided closer to her, still holding Marigold in his arms. "Do you like it, chiquita?"

"I love it, mami!" Marigold hugged her mother by the waist happily. "Thank you."

"Before anything, let's do something with those clothes." La Muerte snapped her fingers, and changed Marigold's pajamas for a pink winter outfit, with wool red gloves and boots. "You don't want to get a cold, do you?"

Xibalba chuckled and, taking two of his fingers to his mouth, let out a whistle. Immediately, Garra and Colmillo trotted closer pulling Marigold's new-and-improved sled, wagging their tails at their master's child. With a satisfied grin, Xibalba glanced at his child. "Your carriage, milady."

Marigold squealed in surprise and got unto her sled; the two hounds started to run and pulled the sled along with them. La Muerte and Xibalba watched fondly as Marigold raced around the courtyard with Garra and Colmillo like she were a musher, they didn't realize someone was hidden in a nearby bush.

"Balby… I'm cold…" La Muerte whispered into her husband's ear seductively. "Would you mind helping me warm up a little?"

Xibalba grinned and pulled his wife closer with his arm, then wrapped a wing around her. "Feeling better, mi amor?"

"Much better, my love."

"I love you."

As they leaned in closer for a kiss, a snowball aiming for Xibalba's head few out of nowhere and struck its target; Xibalba yelped in surprise while La Muerte gasped in bewilderment. Xibalba glanced around the courtyard to see who had dared to interrupt such a moment, and he spotted a pair of feathery ears peeking from the bush.

"ZIPACNA!" he roared in anger.

The feather-made god finally revealed himself and glanced at his younger brother with a mischievous grin. "What? When was the last time we had a snowball fight, hermanito?"

"Just wait till I get my hands on you, feather-brain!" Xibalba made a snowball of his own and chased Zipacna around the courtyard, throwing snowballs at his brothers and dodging snowballs thrown at him. La Muerte giggled from her place underneath the umbrella, watching as her two babies played.