Okie, okie... guess y'all have reviewed enough, so here's the next
chapterness. n.n Bit short, but oh well. My chapters are getting longer
again, huzzah! n.n 3
Disc: I own no one in this chapter. Pootie. =P
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Sarah nearly tripped over yet another tree root, catching herself just in time. She checked the small bundle in her arms to make sure she hadn't jarred it too badly, then sighed and continued on. She had been stumbling along in the dark for a good half an hour, reasoning that it would be a shorter distance to cut through the woods than to take the road. While it made sense geographically, she really only ended up slowing herself down, wading through waist-high tangles of undergrowth and picking her way along the uneven ground. So far, she had gotten lost several times, but fortunately, she knew which direction she needed to go now.
She felt something crawling on her arm and flicked it off irritably. This was -not- her idea of a good time.
Alex hadn't been much help, she thought angrily. Having solved the mystery of the missing meat, they had all gone back to drinking and partying, and had completely ignored her when she had insisted that they couldn't just leave the poor owl to die. Alex had responded by saying that the thing was dead anyway, and it wasn't really worth worrying over. John had told her that he wouldn't even consider driving her home until he finally got his steak, and he wouldn't let anyone else drive his baby. The rest of the group had spent the next ten minutes or so trying to talk her out of going home, until Sarah had finally gotten fed up and just left. Considering how many drinks they were having, she was probably better off walking, anyway.
Sarah muttered something obscene under her breath. Insensitive jerks, the lot of them. Even Kate had agreed that the owl would die no matter what they did for it, although she had been sympathetic, at least. Well, Sarah wasn't going to give up on the poor thing.
She moved a fold of her jacket aside to gaze at the owl's pale face as she walked along. She was almost positive it was the same owl that lived in her neighbourhood, the one she had labeled Jareth. She felt pretty silly now. It was obviously just a normal owl. She may not be an expert in these things, but she was fairly sure that the real Goblin King could never be harmed by something as mundane as another owl. Her heart went out to the poor thing. It sat outside her window so often that she felt responsible for it's safety now, and besides that, it's plight reminded her so much of Merlin's that she doubted she could live with herself if she didn't at least try to help it.
Assuming, of course, that she could get it home in time. She sighed and kept walking.
It was another hour before she finally crept in through the front door, closing it silently behind her and glancing at the clock on the wall. 11:55. Still relatively early. She began to tiptoe up the stairs, cradling her precious bundle against her chest.
"Sarah." Karen's voice behind her made her freeze halfway up the stairs.
'Oh boy, she sounds pissed,' Sarah thought as she turned to face her stepmother. "Yes, Karen?"
Karen was seated in the big stuffed recliner in the family room. She set down the book she had been reading and regarded her husband's child coolly. "Sarah, I'm disappointed in you," she began. Sarah rolled her eyes. "I had really thought that we were starting to get along better. Your father and I need some time to ourselves once in a while, and all we ask is that you watch Toby when we go out somewhere."
"Whatever happened to only asking me to babysit if it didn't interfere with my plans?" Sarah shot back, falling easily into the familiar argument.
"Sarah, I've asked you before to tell me in advance if you're going somewhere so that your father and I know not to make plans. Running off at the last minute so that we had to cancel them was very inconsiderate of you. You didn't even tell us where you were going or who those strange boys were. We were both very worried about you." Karen held up her hand to silence her stepdaughter as Sarah opened her mouth to reply. "Your father and I talked about it, and we think that two weeks' grounding is fair."
"What? Two weeks!?" Sarah's jaw dropped. Karen had never actually grounded her before. This wasn't fair at all!
"We both think that it's an appropriate punishment, Sarah. You can't just run off and inconvenience everyone else," Karen stated firmly.
Sarah groaned in protest. "Fine, fine.. I don't have time for this right now," she announced resignedly, remembering the barn owl wrapped in her jacket. Turning, she climbed the rest of the stairs, heading for the bathroom to see what could be done for it's injuries.
One or two items were sent crashing to the linoleum floor as Sarah swept her arm across the cluttered counter to clear space. Ignoring them, she set her jacket down and carefully unwrapped it to survey the damage.
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart sank. Good grief, the poor creature was a mess. She hadn't really been able to see how badly it was hurt back in the woods, even with the flashlight shining on it. Now, in the well-lit bathroom, she could see the full extent of it's injuries. There was a matching set of deep gashes running across the insides of both wings, blood welling up from the wounds and staining the pristine white feathers a deep red. More smears of blood decorated it's small body, and several pinion feathers were mangled beyond hope of repair. It's breathing was shallow, the rise and fall of it's chest barely visible. The once proud and beautiful bird of prey now appeared incredibly fragile.
"Sarah," Karen's voice came from the hall, and a moment later she appeared in the doorway. "Sarah, I wasn't finished with you." Her eyes fell on the owl and she let out a gasp. "Good heavens, Sarah, what is that filthy animal doing on my nice clean counter!?"
Sarah spun around and fixed her stepmother with a glare so intense that Karen was taken aback. "Don't be so heartless, Karen. I thought you had at least a little bit of compassion. Looks like I was wrong."
"Well, I.." Karen stuttered, recovering a moment later, "It's not that I'm trying to be heartless, Sarah, it's just that that.. wild animal.. could be carrying diseases or parasites or goodness knows what else. You don't know where it's been. And it's a wild animal, it could hurt you without a second thought. It's dangerous."
"Well, what do you want me to do, toss it outside and leave it to die?" Sarah was livid. She'd had just about enough of people telling her to give up.
"Sarah," Karen sighed. "Look at the poor thing. There's no way you can save it."
Sarah's eyes shone with anger and frustration. "I don't care, I'm going to try anyway!" It was finally starting to sink in that she probably -wouldn't- be able to make a difference, but she wasn't about to give up now. She'd already done so much as it was to just give up. "Look, I just want to try and help it, alright? If it makes it through the night, it'll be okay. If it doesn't, then it's only one night and at least I'll have tried. Can you allow me that much, at least?" She looked tired as she wet an old towel under the tap and began to dab purposefully at the owl's wings. There was a long, uncomfortable silence while she waited for her stepmother's response.
"I'll go find a box," Karen relented.
Sarah paused mid-dab and turned, throwing her arms around Karen's neck in a hug. "Thank you."
"Y-you're welcome.." Karen managed to get out, startled by the unexpected display. "Be right back," she muttered before retreating from the bathroom.
Sarah turned back to her task, feeling slightly heartened. "Don't worry," she crooned reassuringly as she cleaned the bird's wounds, "You're going to be just fine. We're going to take good care of you."
With the blood out of the way, she could make out just how deep the cuts were, and her stomach twisted. The layers of muscle were clearly visible, and on the left wing, one gash went clear to the bone. By the looks of it, the poor creature would never be able to use it's wings again, even if it did manage to survive. 'Don't think that way,' she scolded herself as she located the roll of gauze and awkwardly bandaged the owl's wounds. 'Be positive!'
Sarah stood back, unsure of what to do now. It occurred to her that she really didn't know the first thing about rehabilitating a wild animal. She bit her bottom lip and watched the shallow rise and fall of the barn owl's bloodied white chest as she thought about it. It was painfully obvious that she couldn't save it without some help. She would have to call the vet first thing in the morning, as it was too late at night to call now. But that wouldn't help it now, she reminded herself.
'Damnit, think, Sarah!' she took a few deep, calming breaths and mulled over what to do. The bleeding had slowed quite a bit, so that wasn't as much of a priority for the time being. She still wasn't sure whether she should sew it up, but she didn't have the skill anyway and she might do more damage by trying. What else? Well, it had probably gone into shock, she reasoned, and would need to be kept warm. Good, she encouraged herself, at least it was a start.
She managed to locate a hot water bottle from a cabinet beside the sink, just as Karen came back with a large cardboard box and several old, faded sheets to line it with. Sarah filled the bottle and tucked it in between the sheets, then cautiously transferred the injured bird to the box and carried it to her room. She set it down on the floor beside her bed so she could easily check on it. She wouldn't get much sleep tonight.
The owl looked so soft in the glow of the lamplight, and she stroked it's feathers gently with the tip of her finger. "You'll be just fine," she promised, wishing with all her might for it to be true.
Disc: I own no one in this chapter. Pootie. =P
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Sarah nearly tripped over yet another tree root, catching herself just in time. She checked the small bundle in her arms to make sure she hadn't jarred it too badly, then sighed and continued on. She had been stumbling along in the dark for a good half an hour, reasoning that it would be a shorter distance to cut through the woods than to take the road. While it made sense geographically, she really only ended up slowing herself down, wading through waist-high tangles of undergrowth and picking her way along the uneven ground. So far, she had gotten lost several times, but fortunately, she knew which direction she needed to go now.
She felt something crawling on her arm and flicked it off irritably. This was -not- her idea of a good time.
Alex hadn't been much help, she thought angrily. Having solved the mystery of the missing meat, they had all gone back to drinking and partying, and had completely ignored her when she had insisted that they couldn't just leave the poor owl to die. Alex had responded by saying that the thing was dead anyway, and it wasn't really worth worrying over. John had told her that he wouldn't even consider driving her home until he finally got his steak, and he wouldn't let anyone else drive his baby. The rest of the group had spent the next ten minutes or so trying to talk her out of going home, until Sarah had finally gotten fed up and just left. Considering how many drinks they were having, she was probably better off walking, anyway.
Sarah muttered something obscene under her breath. Insensitive jerks, the lot of them. Even Kate had agreed that the owl would die no matter what they did for it, although she had been sympathetic, at least. Well, Sarah wasn't going to give up on the poor thing.
She moved a fold of her jacket aside to gaze at the owl's pale face as she walked along. She was almost positive it was the same owl that lived in her neighbourhood, the one she had labeled Jareth. She felt pretty silly now. It was obviously just a normal owl. She may not be an expert in these things, but she was fairly sure that the real Goblin King could never be harmed by something as mundane as another owl. Her heart went out to the poor thing. It sat outside her window so often that she felt responsible for it's safety now, and besides that, it's plight reminded her so much of Merlin's that she doubted she could live with herself if she didn't at least try to help it.
Assuming, of course, that she could get it home in time. She sighed and kept walking.
It was another hour before she finally crept in through the front door, closing it silently behind her and glancing at the clock on the wall. 11:55. Still relatively early. She began to tiptoe up the stairs, cradling her precious bundle against her chest.
"Sarah." Karen's voice behind her made her freeze halfway up the stairs.
'Oh boy, she sounds pissed,' Sarah thought as she turned to face her stepmother. "Yes, Karen?"
Karen was seated in the big stuffed recliner in the family room. She set down the book she had been reading and regarded her husband's child coolly. "Sarah, I'm disappointed in you," she began. Sarah rolled her eyes. "I had really thought that we were starting to get along better. Your father and I need some time to ourselves once in a while, and all we ask is that you watch Toby when we go out somewhere."
"Whatever happened to only asking me to babysit if it didn't interfere with my plans?" Sarah shot back, falling easily into the familiar argument.
"Sarah, I've asked you before to tell me in advance if you're going somewhere so that your father and I know not to make plans. Running off at the last minute so that we had to cancel them was very inconsiderate of you. You didn't even tell us where you were going or who those strange boys were. We were both very worried about you." Karen held up her hand to silence her stepdaughter as Sarah opened her mouth to reply. "Your father and I talked about it, and we think that two weeks' grounding is fair."
"What? Two weeks!?" Sarah's jaw dropped. Karen had never actually grounded her before. This wasn't fair at all!
"We both think that it's an appropriate punishment, Sarah. You can't just run off and inconvenience everyone else," Karen stated firmly.
Sarah groaned in protest. "Fine, fine.. I don't have time for this right now," she announced resignedly, remembering the barn owl wrapped in her jacket. Turning, she climbed the rest of the stairs, heading for the bathroom to see what could be done for it's injuries.
One or two items were sent crashing to the linoleum floor as Sarah swept her arm across the cluttered counter to clear space. Ignoring them, she set her jacket down and carefully unwrapped it to survey the damage.
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart sank. Good grief, the poor creature was a mess. She hadn't really been able to see how badly it was hurt back in the woods, even with the flashlight shining on it. Now, in the well-lit bathroom, she could see the full extent of it's injuries. There was a matching set of deep gashes running across the insides of both wings, blood welling up from the wounds and staining the pristine white feathers a deep red. More smears of blood decorated it's small body, and several pinion feathers were mangled beyond hope of repair. It's breathing was shallow, the rise and fall of it's chest barely visible. The once proud and beautiful bird of prey now appeared incredibly fragile.
"Sarah," Karen's voice came from the hall, and a moment later she appeared in the doorway. "Sarah, I wasn't finished with you." Her eyes fell on the owl and she let out a gasp. "Good heavens, Sarah, what is that filthy animal doing on my nice clean counter!?"
Sarah spun around and fixed her stepmother with a glare so intense that Karen was taken aback. "Don't be so heartless, Karen. I thought you had at least a little bit of compassion. Looks like I was wrong."
"Well, I.." Karen stuttered, recovering a moment later, "It's not that I'm trying to be heartless, Sarah, it's just that that.. wild animal.. could be carrying diseases or parasites or goodness knows what else. You don't know where it's been. And it's a wild animal, it could hurt you without a second thought. It's dangerous."
"Well, what do you want me to do, toss it outside and leave it to die?" Sarah was livid. She'd had just about enough of people telling her to give up.
"Sarah," Karen sighed. "Look at the poor thing. There's no way you can save it."
Sarah's eyes shone with anger and frustration. "I don't care, I'm going to try anyway!" It was finally starting to sink in that she probably -wouldn't- be able to make a difference, but she wasn't about to give up now. She'd already done so much as it was to just give up. "Look, I just want to try and help it, alright? If it makes it through the night, it'll be okay. If it doesn't, then it's only one night and at least I'll have tried. Can you allow me that much, at least?" She looked tired as she wet an old towel under the tap and began to dab purposefully at the owl's wings. There was a long, uncomfortable silence while she waited for her stepmother's response.
"I'll go find a box," Karen relented.
Sarah paused mid-dab and turned, throwing her arms around Karen's neck in a hug. "Thank you."
"Y-you're welcome.." Karen managed to get out, startled by the unexpected display. "Be right back," she muttered before retreating from the bathroom.
Sarah turned back to her task, feeling slightly heartened. "Don't worry," she crooned reassuringly as she cleaned the bird's wounds, "You're going to be just fine. We're going to take good care of you."
With the blood out of the way, she could make out just how deep the cuts were, and her stomach twisted. The layers of muscle were clearly visible, and on the left wing, one gash went clear to the bone. By the looks of it, the poor creature would never be able to use it's wings again, even if it did manage to survive. 'Don't think that way,' she scolded herself as she located the roll of gauze and awkwardly bandaged the owl's wounds. 'Be positive!'
Sarah stood back, unsure of what to do now. It occurred to her that she really didn't know the first thing about rehabilitating a wild animal. She bit her bottom lip and watched the shallow rise and fall of the barn owl's bloodied white chest as she thought about it. It was painfully obvious that she couldn't save it without some help. She would have to call the vet first thing in the morning, as it was too late at night to call now. But that wouldn't help it now, she reminded herself.
'Damnit, think, Sarah!' she took a few deep, calming breaths and mulled over what to do. The bleeding had slowed quite a bit, so that wasn't as much of a priority for the time being. She still wasn't sure whether she should sew it up, but she didn't have the skill anyway and she might do more damage by trying. What else? Well, it had probably gone into shock, she reasoned, and would need to be kept warm. Good, she encouraged herself, at least it was a start.
She managed to locate a hot water bottle from a cabinet beside the sink, just as Karen came back with a large cardboard box and several old, faded sheets to line it with. Sarah filled the bottle and tucked it in between the sheets, then cautiously transferred the injured bird to the box and carried it to her room. She set it down on the floor beside her bed so she could easily check on it. She wouldn't get much sleep tonight.
The owl looked so soft in the glow of the lamplight, and she stroked it's feathers gently with the tip of her finger. "You'll be just fine," she promised, wishing with all her might for it to be true.