Username + ID:
lizzybee, 979405
Kalon Name:
Kane
Prompt:
It was squeaking that woke her - not the type of squeaking that a mouse would make, silent as they were to be tonight, or floorboards groaning under a heavy house. It was more... hinge. Something opening, or closing, an attempt to be quiet broken by the betrayal of a non-oiled joint.
Kane was up in an instant, blankets twisting around her legs as she rolled up and out of bed, hooves hitting her thick carpet with a soft thud.
The squeaking stopped.
A glance at the overhead hanging clock told her it was still early morning. Too early for anyone to be dropping by for sure. Too early for any justifiable reason to be out for anyone. She reached for a lantern, taking a moment to carefully brush her hair out of the way, and moved for the bedroom door as quietly as she could.
Her door clicked open silently, not a creak to be heard. She stepped out into the halls carpeted with the same shaggy rug she had in her room, muffling every heavy hoofstep as she slowly made her way down. The lantern flames illuminated the ancient walls as she walked, turning their usual caramel brown tones into something dark, cold. Where her shadow cast was nothing but black.
She paused at the doorway before entering. Listened.
There it was again. A squeak, followed by a breeze that chilled. The flame in her lantern flickered. Kane took a deep breath and then jumped around the corner, paws scraping off the wood as the carpet ended, followed by threatening heavy bangs as her hooves then met wooden floor. She drew her lips up into a growl, ready to face whatever... empty room faced her.
An empty room with very obvious snow trampled about, fresh, centred mostly around the window creaking in the cold winter wind and open when it most certainly had not been when she'd gone to bed.
A moment to quickly scan the room, light swinging to brighten every corner of the room with her head turns, and when she was sure she could see nothing she dropped the lantern to the floor and dashed for the windows where she reached out and slammed them closed. The latch dropped automatically as they hit each other and she turned sideways to press herself against the wall, scanning the room again.
Empty. Most certainly empty.
As always.
Kane let her shoulders slump as she turned around again to tie the curtains shut. Mud, as always. Wet with snow and mud. She made sure to tie them twice before she went to find the sweeping brush and clear up the snow before it melted everywhere.
Then she took her lantern and returned to bed.
Dawn came a few measly hours later, bringing the grey sun that would turn the dark world white, a landscape punctured only briefly by the green of trees that had managed to shake the weight of the nights weather. Kane woke when her clock chimed at a sensible hour, today pulling her blankets off the bed with her to trudge back out to the rest of her cabin. Through the usual motions of her early mornings - breakfast, coffee so hot off the hob it burned to drink. Combing her hair and tail, typing the latter up so it didn't drag quite so much on the floor. Picking off loose pine needles and placing them into the jar she kept on the mantlepiece, where she finally stopped to reach out for the other item she kept there.
She paused as she looked at it, back towards the window she had slammed the night before, back to the little wooden decoration before she sighed. Time to hunt again.
It was a short moment to get prepared; a scarf, her old tattered hat, pulling it snugly down over her ears until it almost covered her eyes. She dropped her blanket onto the rocking chair, an inviting promise of warmth for when she returned. She tucked her tail up into its braid to try and minimise how much snow it'd eventually collect, and when she felt ready, she unlatched her front door and stepped out into the woods that surrounded her gloriously isolated home.
It was not under the first tree she checked; it was never that easy. Not that it was ever hard to find, either, but the first? Too easy. Nor the second. The third has a shred of ribbon nailed to it. That was new. She followed the direction of the arrow scratched into the bark below it. Another empty tree base, the next more ribbon. She did her best to ignore the heaviness of her tail and the fur around her legs as snow clung to it and tried to chill her enough to drive her back inside. It had to be somewhere. It was never far.
Nine more trees, two more scraps of ribbon, and then she saw it. Something oddly shaped and dark, partially buried in the snow, only made as obvious as it was by the vibrant red ribbon fluttering in the wind tied to a low hanging branch above it.
"About time," Kane sighed, making sure to raise her voice when she said it. "Why do they always get further away? I hate scavenger hunts."
She never knew if anything listened when she said it, but it felt worthwhile saying out loud. Just in case.
She was careful brushing the snow off it and picking it up. Decided she'd study it better at home, finding the easiest place to grab it in her teeth without it falling apart or slipping, before she turned and headed back the way she'd come. At least the snow had stopped for today. It was easy to follow her messy tracks.
The cabin appeared. Warm and inviting. No open windows or squeaking door joints. That meant there was only one this time, at least - which she'd expected, frankly, only having one slot left. She turned to kick the door open with her back hoof, put the little wooden creature down on the porch where she shook off the snow, and then she gathered it back up to head inside.
Kane placed what was now clearly another wooden kalon down on the coffee table to peer at it. It only took a second to realise, and another second to be filled with brief surprise. Was this... her?
She squinted, carefully spun it around to study it properly, and then concluded that it had to be. The tiny red berried stuck on with beads, flat needles painted onto the stained wooden grain. Two hooves lifted in motion, pinned on each side of the body with a little clockwork pin she had no doubt would set the figure in motion if she twisted it. The tail flowed out behind it, golden touches that shimmered when she tilted it more into the light. There were clumps of faux snow mockingly stuck to it that made her snort.
Yes, it was her. Had to be. No other option.
Satisfied that she knew this one, at least, Kane turned to grab the decoration from her mantlepiece. She slid it onto the table carefully, spin it until the last wooden slot sat in front of her, and then slotted the wooden attachment into place. It fit right in as always. Looked as natural as the other kalons - none of which she knew - did, the bright carousel poles looking more like they blended with the kalons rather than sat behind them. It was a clever little illusion she always found herself impressed with whenever she happened to look over and remember that it was sitting there.
When she was sure it was secured, Kane twisted the metal clockwork key and sat back to watch it spin. A cheery bell-like tune floated from it, a repetitive few notes likely only intended to cover the clanking noise of the carousel as it spun and bobbed each figurine up and down. Complete, at last.
Once the song drew to an end, Kane picked the little toy back up and placed it back onto the mantlepiece where it belonged, making sure to let the newest addition face the room.
She wasn't sure she'd ever know who was leaving them, or why, but in the end it didn't matter. She clearly had no power to stop it, and she was still following through with the annual scavenger hunt, so what did it matter?
She twisted the key again and smiled as the little tune played, and wandered back into the kitchen to make another coffee as the melody filled her little cabin with chiming.
[1448]
