The Oxhorn Mall bustles with a renewed energy that comes with every summer vacation. Besides the usual rabble of shoppers, shopkeepers, and shoplifters, the additional flood of kids and teens here to spend a lazy, air-conditioned day of window shopping brings an additional capitalistic vibrancy. It may be stereotypical of Hafsa, being head cheerleader, but there are few places she enjoys more than a mall.
This time however, she is not accompanied by her usual posse of girlfriends, but rather by a taller, more handsome presence. After his courteous offer during the barbecue, Hafsa and Solomon had arranged to spend some days of vacation together. In principal, she had no reason to refuse; they are good friends and share the same evolutionary family, it's quite natural they would be seeing each other. Solomon is good, intelligent company. Always the gentleman, clever to a fault, and (as Hafsa repeatedly catches herself admiring) attractive as all hell. Even though she maintains her reluctance to surpass the role of friend, this is good enough for an outing.
They had spent the day perusing shops, appreciating the tacky summertime decorations, and enjoying a food court meal complete with frozen yogurt, a shopping mall staple. Now, they amble around the polished linoleum floors, debating whether to catch a movie.
"There's nothing good playing right now, is there?" Hafsa mentions, scrolling through the matinee schedule on her phone. "Most of these are in 3D. I hate those glasses."
"Out of all the cheap gimmicks, it's definitely a strong contender for the worst," Solomon nods in agreement. "The glasses are truly not designed for people with whiskers. They get in the way."
"Totally." Hafsa opens her mouth to continue her anti-3D rant when a certain store catches her attention. The pause in her speech doesn't go unnoticed by Solomon, who in turn shifts his gaze to the glass display.
"Swimsuits?" He muses. "I suppose it is the season for it."
"Oh, um, yeah!" Hafsa chuckles shyly, embarrassed by being caught staring at such a store. "I was just wondering if I should get a new one. I don't really like to swim, after all…"
The two cats stand outside the store, eyeing the colorful array of waterproof fabric. "I can't say I enjoy it much either…" Solomon says, focusing on the mannequins. "Maybe it's a feline instinct."
"It's such a shame, too. The other cheerleaders were all excited to hit the beaches, but I can't share their enthusiasm."
The caracal tilts his head. "If my memory serves, didn't you go to the beach just the other day? I saw your photos on Instanyan."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I enjoyed it."
Solomon laughs. "Popularity is demanding. Although, beach trips are really more about the people than the ocean. Maybe you wouldn't have such a miserable time with the right company."
"Is that a hint I detect?" Hafsa teases.
A coy smile plays on the caracal's lips. "Let's just say I know a certain pigeon who would take you up on a beach-related offer."
Hafsa's ears droop as she ponders this. "An official student council expedition, huh… I can't say that doesn't intrigue me."
"I doubt any of the members would refuse a formal invitation from the president herself."
Their conversation is cut short by an abrupt screech. The felines whip their heads around looking for the source, their sensitive ears already ringing from the reverberating wail. Some feet away, a small canid silhouette teeters around as if looking for something. The cry is high-pitched, clearly a child's, which makes their brows furrow with worry.
"Do you think they're lost?" Hafsa asks in a hushed voice.
"It seems like it. Maybe we should see what's wrong."
The two make their way to the sobbing animal. Curiously, Hafsa notices that they seem to be the only ones making a move to comfort the child. The other shoppers just quietly keep their distance, as if they were blocked by a circular force field. She chalks it up to the coldness of the modern heart and brings her attention back to the petite figure. The closer she gets to it, she begins to notice more details. The kid is in fact a puppy, a cocker spaniel in a cute yellow dress. But then Hafsa realizes why no one else is approaching.
Two stubby antlers jut out from the top of the puppy's head. They are fuzzy, rounded and only branched into a short v shape, but they are nothing a dog should have. She's a hybrid.
Solomon seems to notice the antlers as well, but says nothing. Hafsa follows in his lead, knowing she shouldn't stand and gawk, and finally they arrive to the youngster. She doesn't look up at them, so dedicated to her crying that she apparently blocked out the entire world. Her small eyes are scrunched up and routinely wiped by her hands, who clumsily try to smack away her large tears. Hafsa stares helplessly at the hybrid, unsure of what to do but painfully aware of the suspicious glares the two carnies are receiving from passersby. Her companion, however, immediately crouches down to the child's eye level, and offers a gentle tap on her shoulder.
"Hello there, miss." He begins, his voice somehow silkier and gentler than usual. "Why are you crying?"
The pup finally looks up from her hands and stares at the caracal with large, wet eyes. "M-my mommy…" She quivers. "We w-were in the big st-store to buy clothes, a-and she was gonna b-buy me candy a-and, and… then sh-she wasn't there anymore, s-so I walked and walked and I left the b-big store a-and now I don't know wh-where she is!" She erupts into a new fit of tears while Hafsa and Solomon exchange amused glances.
"What was the name of the store?" Hafsa tags on, trying to clue in on anything helpful.
"I d-dunno…" The puppy mumbles.
"Well, we're in an awfully large mall. It will be tough to find your mother if we just walk around." Solomon concludes, but this only further upsets the child, who begins to sniffle once again. Hafsa slaps the male's shoulder in reprimand.
"But!" He quickly adds. "This mall has a PA system. That means we can use a microphone to speak to every store all at once. We'll just go down to the administration, and we can announce to the whole mall that you're looking for your mother. She'll come fetch you in no time. It's a much better way of finding her than wandering around, isn't it?"
The young girl looks up at him suspiciously, but at last her sobs begin to finally settle down. "My mommy told me not to go with strangers."
Solomon offers a kind smile. "Your mother is very smart, and you should definitely listen to her. But it seems like you need some help. So how about we introduce ourselves? Then we can be friends instead of strangers."
"G-good idea!" Hafsa chimes in. "I'm Serval Hafsa."
"And my name is Caracal Solomon."
The pup looks at them, still hesitant, and fidgets with the hem of her dress. She does one final wipe of her nose. "I'm Capi."
"A pretty name for a pretty lady." In a smooth movement, Solomon straightens himself back to his feet and extend his hand for the lost child to take. She slowly tests his palm, first poking with the tips of her fingers, but eventually allows her small hand to be held by the teen's.
"Let's go find your mother." He winks.
The pup's face grows an even deeper shade of red. "'Kay."
And so, a rather odd trio slowly make their way towards the ground floor of the shopping center. Starting from the third floor, they would have to make four laps around the rectangular tracks to reach the respective escalator, a feat that would be made much easier if not having to follow the rhythm of a small, scared kid. The felines dare not pick up her to expedite the trip, concerned that she would certainly think this was some sort of predation and start screaming bloody murder. So, slow and steady wins the race.
As they walk, trying to ignore the odd glances and double takes they attract, Hafsa can't help but observe the rather unusual scene herself, specifically, how spectacularly calm Solomon has been about the whole ordeal. By now, he had proven his character time and time again as student council secretary, but every now and then, he still manages to surprise her. While she was floundering about, wondering if they should even help the little hybrid, he took charge and thought of a solution almost instantaneously, all while calming down a hysterical child. She's surprised at how good he is with children, but at the same time can't help but feel a little frustrated at her own incompetence. To quell her growing dissatisfaction, she decides to talk to the little hybrid. Once the three hop on the first set of escalators, Hafsa pounces.
"So, Capi, how old are you?" She asks in a sugary tone.
"…Eight."
"Wow, so you must be in around third grade, right?"
"…Mhm."
"Elementary school is a lot of fun! I remember my third grade friends!"
"I hate it."
Hafsa blinks at the sudden declaration. She offers a nervous chuckle. "Ha ha, i-it's true that schoolwork is a hassle when all you wanna do is play with friends"
"I hate the other kids. I don't have any friends!" Capi snaps, her eyes swelling with newfound tears. "All they do is make fun of me!"
Hafsa's jaw slackens, like a ventriloquist dummy whose puppeteer has abandoned it. As she looks at the little girl's face, scrunched up and wet from crying, a familiar chant begins to echo through her mind.
Kitty Cat Killer.
Of course. A hybrid has to go through so much worse than what she's gone through. Hafsa can learn to hide her claws, but someone like Capi can't hide those antlers, not really. The serval had nearly forgotten what it's like to live with the consequences of honesty. Before Solomon can begin to console the child, Hafsa hunches down to meet her eye level, and brushes her fluffy ear aside so that she could whisper into it.
"You know, kids used to make fun of me too."
Capi, still crying, eyes her curiously.
"They were scared of me. Granted, I wasn't nearly as cute as you are. But now, I don't get made fun of anymore."
The puppy sniffs. "What happened?"
Hafsa smiles. "I had to change. I had to become a person who they wouldn't mock. Grown ups will tell you to be yourself no matter what, but sometimes that's just not the answer."
"That's too sad."
"Not really. You wanna know what makes it okay?"
Capi nods.
"It's okay because even if I can't be myself, I know that everyone else is wrong. I'm not the problem, they are. And just because I have to hide, it doesn't mean that I'm doing anything wrong, even if it really feels like I am. So that makes it okay."
Hafsa stands back up and pats the pup's head, her fingers weaving around the two stubby antlers. With a nonchalant smile, she offers a thumbs up to Solomon, who had been looking on with his usual inscrutable demeanor all the while, and the three finally step off the escalator.
The rest of the trip is filled with a surprising peace. Capi's hysteria seems to have disappeared after the first escalator ride. The three of them look at shop displays, point at interesting items, banter and laugh. From the other shoppers' view, they look like a strange kind of family; mother and father holding each of their daughter's hand. It's a blissful sight. Hafsa wonders if Capi and Solomon are truly happy right now. Because despite her laughing and joking, she suddenly feels muddled down by a horrible melancholy.
They find the administrative office, a cramped room tucked away at the end of a narrow hallway near the mall's entrance. Solomon explains the situation to a dromedary clerk, who agrees to put out the announcement. They wait outside the office, sitting on a nearby bench as the dromedary's deep voice reverberates throughout the entire mall, informing Capi's mother of her whereabouts and where to pick her up.
"Your mother will be here in no time." Solomon reassures her once the announcement fades away into the air conditioned atmosphere.
The young hybrid's tail shyly sweeps from side to side for the first time. "Thanks."
"You're very welcome. I'm glad we could help."
From the entrance of the hallways, a voice cries out. "Capi!"
The puppy's jolts up at the familiar voice. A tall, antlered silhouette swiftly jogs towards them, prompting Capi to do the same. They meet halfway, Capi colliding into the figure's stomach and nuzzling her snout into it.
"Mommy!" She sniffles, her voice trembling with glee. "Mommy, I missed you!"
The animal kneels down to properly embrace the little girl. "Capi, I was so worried! Don't wander off like that ever again!"
Hafsa and Solomon observe the reunited pair, happy that things have ended well. Soon, the mother approaches them, Capi clung to her leg. She is a reindeer, with soft fuzzy antlers to match her daughters, though her are grown at an elegant arch and branched out at the base and tips.
"Thank you very much for helping my daughter." She begins with a tearful tone. She bows steeply, careful to maintain a distance so as to not smack the felines with her antlers. "I'm really sorry to have troubled you."
Solomon shakes his head. "There's no need to apologize."
"It's the least we could have done!" Hafsa adds with a smile.
"It's hard to find animals as kind as you are nowadays," Capi's mother insists. "Really, truly thank you."
After a seemingly endless exchange of thank you's and you're welcome's (as well as a vehement offer and refusal of a monetary reward), mother and daughter offer their final wave goodbye and the pair walk away back into the bright shopping plaza together. The two cats remain standing, waving at them until they are long out of sight. They stare off into the exit, simmering in a strange tension. Hafsa is the one to finally break the charged silence.
"I didn't expect you to be so good with children."
Solomon smirks. "I'll admit, my first instinct was to walk away. This whole incident caused a lot of unwanted attention. I rather disliked getting stared at like that. But..." His expression softens. "I couldn't do that to a child."
"Well, whatever your motives, good job."
"What a pity, that hybrid."
Hafsa glances at him, wordless.
"It's not her fault she was born like that. She deserves better." He drops his gaze, now facing Hafsa. "But I'm surprised you said those things to her. It was uncharacteristically… cold of you."
"Was it?" Hafas replies in an aggressively innocent tone. "You heard everything?"
"My hearing is only second to yours."
The serval shrugs. "I only told her what I needed to hear at her age. It would have saved me a lot of grief. Life isn't something you can enjoy if you believe in fairytales. Not if you're a carnie. Or a hybrid."
"What happened to you?" Solomon's voice is barely a whisper.
"The same thing that happened to you."
The caracal takes her hand in his. He holds it tight, as if he could transfer all his warmth into it. He holds it to say 'I understand.'
"On the count of three," he starts. "We'll start walking. And we'll both change. And everything will be okay again."
Hafsa squeezes his hand back. "Okay. Let's count together."
"Three."
"Two."
"One."
AN: Thanks for reading! Casual reminder that Hafsa and Solomon probably give bad advice to kids lol. It's the trauma. Also, this chapter serves as blatant foreshadowing for the next one (beach episode wink wink). Heads up: it's going to be shameless.
Capi was named after my old dog Cappuccino. Not a Cocker Spaniel but 100% amazing.
Take it easy and stay safe.