The Month of Hunting (May) Age 8

Week 1

Razor said that he wanted to finish the book first so that he could tell me the story and help me understand it later on. He was really engrossed, so I didn't have the heart to demand him to teach me now. I really don't know what he sees in those hen scratches of letters. I know that each language has tons of tales, but really, what are the chances of being able to read ancient runes going to be useful?

Week 2

Razor finished his book, but…well, he has other plans. He opened the heavy tome and was just starting to explain it to me, when Nort walked in. Nort was Mortak's son, and one of Razor's biggest tormentors since we were still seven. He did all the usually things a bully does; throw paper wads, tease him, poke him in the back when he's studying…Thank Fyora he isn't creative, like Brynn's little "problem." He's mean, but he only does what he can think of, which fortunately isn't much.

So anyway he went to Razor and asked for his help. Just like that, as if all that went between them never happened. "Hey, old buddy!" He exclaimed, thumping him on the back. "Care to give me a few pointers on what these mean?" He gestured to the letters.

Razor's mouth dropped open. "But you hate me." Not exactly the best thing to say.

But all Nort did was laugh. "Hate you? Who could do that? You're awesome, man. Let's ditch this loser and head over to my place. My Dad's even getting it refurnished for the upcoming announcement of his permanent leadership."

"Permanent leadership?" I cried. No way.

"Yes way," he said, reading my thoughts. "You know how prisoners get shipped off to Darigan Citadel after eight months? Well this is the seventh, scoundrel, so if you want to you better save him soon." I gulped, realizing that he was right. "Now come on, Razor. I also have a few of my pals who'd like to learn, so we can't bring along this wimp."

"Who are you calling a wimp?" I snarled. "I was the first one to get promoted last year, remember?"

He snorted. "Still recall that little incident of kindness? That's right," he continued, seeing my shocked face, "Kanrik confided in my dad, and my dad confided in me. And you know, he doesn't like you much. Chances of it happening again are pretty slim. So if you know what's good for you, step aside and let Razor go, or I'll tell all about how you gave him that Illusen staff."

I bit my lip. There were still a lot of people I haven't met yet from the other classes, and he announcing that would ruin any chances of me being friends with them. "If Razor wants to, then I won't stop him."

"Um…" He wavered undecidedly. Then Mort dragged him away, and the decision was made for him. "I'll teach you next week!" He called back.

Week 3

Razor didn't make good on his promise, but I don't mind. It's because that "a few of Mort's pals" actually equal to like hundreds, and he has to teach them all. You should see him at lunch now; he's swarmed. He also seems to like it. From last year and for most of this one, he had been ignored and humiliated. Now people...see him.

I knew he was being used, though. Who wouldn't? I mean, they only hang out with him when one of them is getting taught. Pretty soon there'll be no one, and what'll happen then? I couldn't tell him that, though. I mean, I think it's the first time he has friends besides me. He's enjoying it, and I don't want to burst his bubble too soon.

So basically, I had to wait in line. At least until Timmy hauled me out. "Me don't wanna stay here!" He declared. "Me wanna go to the park!"

That was the actual plan of today, but Dad stopped it at breakfast when he was reading aloud the weather report from the Neopian Times. "Families should stay home. High risk of flood this season," he recited. "Storm clouds are coming."

But that wouldn't dampen Timmy's spirits, so I was forced to go outside. Advantageously, it wasn't pouring yet, so I estimated maybe a half-hour or so of play-time before we should go back- Assuming that no one was there to interrupt us.

"Out on the commons again?" Charlie shook his head. There was no one there but him. "Here, chap; don't get your knickers in at twist! You'll get your ride soon enough."

This time I didn't hesitate to greet him. "Hey, Charles."

He made a face. "It's Charlie, if you don't mind. Charles makes me sound so posh. Perhaps I am, what with my accent and all, but at least I don't have to be reminded of it."

"That's fine," I replied, slightly smiling. "I have another friend who likes being called by a nickname, too."

"Is that so? How fascinating!" He ejaculated enthusiastically.

"Shouldn't you be at home?" I asked him. "Won't your parents worry?"

"My parents don't notice anything except money, especially me." Charlie unconsciously echoed Julius's words.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"That's quite alright. I've gotten used to it. And as an answer to your earlier question, I've decided to stick it out and see what it's like for you thieves braving the cold."

I laughed. "Charlie, even we criminals have somewhere to go to during this kind of weather."

"Then why in Neopia aren't you there now?" I pointed to Timmy. "Well! He certainly loves the swing set, doesn't he?" Charlie suddenly stared at the sky. "Say, how about you tarry along to my place until the rain breaks?"

"What rain-" I began, but was shushed by a huge down pouring. In just a few seconds, I was completely soaked.

"Yay!" Timmy bounced from puddle to puddle.

"He's clearly enjoying himself," Charlie commented. "But I think he'd like it better if he was wrapped in a warm blanket with a cup of borovan."

"But Charlie...well, we aren't exactly welcome here, are we?" He stared at me, puzzled. I struggled to explain. "We don't really belong here…"

"Don't be silly! Of course you do. At least warm yourself by the fire, and I promise that anyone who as much as looks at you wrong will be made to bow before you." He giggled at the expression on my face. "I was joking! Joking! You assume that all us rich people are the same, do you not? Yet that is as ludicrous as assuming that all thieves, and all guards for that matter, are alike."

My eyes widened. "Does everyone know about me and Brynn these days?" I groaned.

"Who?" He questioned.

I raised my eyebrows. "You really don't know who she is? But I thought that guard thing…"

"Actually, I was referring to the few people from here that are sent to the guards. Some are awfully nasty, and I dread to see what they do with the law in a few years' time, but some are quite delightful." He paused. "Though that story about you and this Brynn sounds quite engaging."

"Stowy?" Timmy hopped to us. "Me wanna hear a stowy!"

"As do I as well. But first, let's get out of the weather, shall we?" He ran to a nearby house- no, mansion- and opened the door. "Come along, come along."

I reluctantly followed, not assured that the staff would be very friendly to us rag-muffins. To my surprise, the chubby Gnorbu house-keeper, Mrs. Daley, instantly swept us in a warm embrace and deposited us by the hearth. Before I could say "King of Brightvale," she gave us two steaming mugs of chocolate. "Um, thanks ma'am."

She clucked approvingly. "Charlie, you could learn manners from them! This boy actually says thank you." She pinched my cheek fondly. "And you know how saying thank you is important to a lady."

"Yes, yes, thank you Mrs. Dayely," he said impatiently. "Now Hanso, who's this Brynn you've been talking about? It sounds quite familiar, though I don't know why."

"Well, she's a friend, I guess," I asserted carefully.

"And…."

"Well, that's about it."

"Funny, when you were talking about her earlier after my remark, I thought that she was a guard," he pressed.

I sighed. "Well, she is." He gasped excitedly. "But don't tell anyone, okay?"

"You're secret is safe as a baby being molly-coddled by Mrs. Daley."

"Thanks, pal." I gazed out the window. "Hey, what's that over there?" It was a manor identical to the one we were in, except…I don't know. But shivers slipped down my spine as I glimpsed at it, as if a sort of gloominess lurked there.

"Ah. That is Ebony's house. You know, that ghastly Usul."

"His name is Ebony?" I smirked. "The fancy name for black?"

"I believe he prefers to be called Darkness, or some other strange name. I don't recall very well. Anyway, everyone in his family is traditionally named after a color. Like Peach, his cousin. Rose-red. Amethyst. Olive. Bluebell. Carnation. Violet. Tangerine. And….Hazel." He sat very still for a moment. "He has siblings, you know. That's why he manipulated those twins so well last month; he knew all the ups and downs to being a brother."

"Were you friends with Hazel?" I interrogated. "Was she his sibling?"

"Yes. One of them." He took a deep breath. "She was my best mate, actually, though all the other boys scoffed at her. Always so delicate, even more so after-" He stopped. "Anyway, she doesn't get out of the house much anymore. Her brother always hounds her back inside…but I miss her dreadfully."

"Couldn't you sneak in? Break a window. Lock pick the door. It doesn't seem that hard."

"I can't; I'm really clumsy. If you break one shard of glass, sirens start wailing and you'll be in mounds of trouble. Lock pick? Forget about it; they get electric locks that even the king himself doesn't have. I don't even know how." I blinked, suddenly remembering that Charlie wasn't a thief; I knew how to pick a lock before I could talk. "Oh, the shower's stopped," he noticed, changing the topic swiftly. A few sunbeams were seeping through the clouds. We could go home.

"Thanks again," I told him.

"Don't mention it."

"Next time I'm here, I'll see if I can help you with Hazel. I'm all about forbidden friendships."

He grinned. "I'm sure you are," he said as he led me out the front porch. "Bye, Hanso."

I gave the house across the street one more glance- and nearly yelped. Peeking behind the thick, over-the-top curtains, was a little Usul with big, brown eyes. I'm sure it was Hazel; but she was gone so fast that I had to pinch myself I didn't imagine her.

When I got back, Razor was still surrounded. His little kid, Fin, was nearly trampled in the mass. I carried him on the table before leaving. He looked at me gratefully. "Thank you Hanswo. Timmy was wight. You are good fwiend."

Week 4

"Sorry, Hanso, not this week." Razor shrugged, but he didn't seem very sorry. He was leaned back in that relaxed position that people who thought they were popular are usually in. I had a bad feeling in a pit of my stomach.

"That's okay, Big Guy-"

"Thick-boned," he reminded me like so many other times, only now there was a sort of ferociousness when he said it. "I hate it when you call me that! Do you know how it makes me feel?"

"Oh. Um, sorry, I-"

"No, I guess you don't." He was getting all wracked up. "You don't get me at all, do you? I'm popular now. I don't need you. The only reason that I put up with that LOUSY nickname was because I did!"

Indignantly, I began, "Don't you think you're overreacting-"

"Overreacting?" He scowled. "No. Maybe old Razor overreacted, but the new one is cool. Confident. And doesn't need you. So scram! Get someone else to give you lessons. You're probably just going to make yourself hard to teach on purpose because of how bad I was on our first field trip when you were stuck with me."

"I wasn't stuck with you! I wanted to help-"

"Well, I don't need it anymore. Maybe the twins have the right idea. We should all just go solo." With that, he huffed away.

What just happened? I asked myself. I wanted to get angry as well- but that wouldn't really solve anything, now would it? Instead, I just swallowed my pride and went to Kayley. "Um…mind helping me with the runes?" I asked- no, begged. "You can gloat and stuff, but I really do need to learn." I looked at her desperately.

She scrutinized me carefully, as if making sure I wasn't tricking her. Then she sighed. "I would; teach and gloat, that is...if I knew how to do it myself." My jaw dropped. Then unexpectedly, I laughed. "What's so funny?"

"Look at us! We're supposed to be like the star pupils, remember? Man, we really got our game down."

"We can't all be good at everything," she pointed out.

"True, true."

"Why are you asking me, anyway? Don't you already have a friend to help you?" She gestured to Razor.

The smile slid off my face. "I don't think he's my friend anymore."

"He better be. He's-"

"An essential part of the plan," I finished. "I'll work on it." I gazed upwards. Though it was just bare ceiling, I could still picture the cheerful, bright sunshine that I woke up to this morning.

Despite that, however, I thought that the storm clouds were still coming.