Username ||Goddess Sword
Friend Name ||Micha
Friend Pronouns/Gender ||Bigender (Any pronouns)
About the Friend! ||A Giant Ghana Snail descended from an escaped group smuggled into the states to be sold as pets. They are kind and clever, and have adapted well to the non-native environment they call home, even avoiding detection by humans who consider their species ecological and agricultural pests.
How does the Friend help? ||A small, choking sob echoed from the cave, illuminated from within by a strange, soft glow. Under other circumstances, Micha might have avoided the situation entirely - Their kind wasn’t exactly welcomed in this area, and exposing themselves to others was a dangerous game to play.
But something about this moment felt different. Perhaps it was the footprints in the mud outside, clearly more animal than man, or the tears the creature within were obviously fighting back. But something drew them from the rain and into the cave where this being lay deep within, curled into a ball and shaking with every heaving breath they took between their tears.
As they approached, and their eyes adjusted to the glow their companion emitted, it became clear to Micha just what this being was. Though they’d not seen one in person until this moment, their family told tales of intelligent, bipedal, desert-dwelling creatures called Vaikis, covered in fur and yet bearing fins and gills like fish. And now, it seemed, Micha had learned something new about them - The creatures gave off light enough to cut through the dark of storms and illuminate entire caves. What a story they would have to tell their family later!
“Hello?” the snail called, voice barely audible over the Vaiki’s sobs. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”
The Vaiki ceased their crying and froze abruptly, as though their fight or flight response had kicked in merely by having been noticed. After a moment’s silence, they shakily responded. “I-I’m fine. Please leave me al-lone.”
Even had they not just been blatantly sobbing, their voice alone would have been indication enough that that was a lie - And a quite unimpressive one, at that. Micha inched closer, pushing on. “Pretty wet and windy out today. What brings you out to a cave like this in a storm like that?”
“Nothing,” the Vaiki replied.
It was hard for the snail to tell, but the Vaiki’s voice sounded fairly young - Adolescent, a teenager at most, perhaps. Micha remembered how their siblings had been at that age. Pushing them further clearly wouldn’t work. They supposed a different tactic was in order. “Okay.” They might have shrugged had they the limbs to do so, but instead they simply slimed and slithered their way up next to the Vaiki and waited.
Some time passed in relative quiet, the larger creature’s breathing slowly but surely struggling to a softer, much less haggard pace and depth as the wind howled and rain pattered away outside. Eventually the Vaiki mumbled something softly under their breath, inaudible behind the storm.
“What was that?” Micha asked.
They turned to look at the snail for the first time since they’d arrived. “...I said I messed up,” they answered in a defeated voice.
“How so?”
They looked away once more. “I- We-“ they started and stopped. “We were learning about... genetics and stuff in school. How things, like, pass on through families.” Though they’d relaxed slightly during their silence, the Vaiki now curled up tighter once more. “They said that things like... like fins and furs and eye colors pass on from parents to their kids. Sometimes they skip around, and move from grandparents to grandkids, but they all come from somewhere.”
Micha nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. My siblings and I have our mother’s eyes, she always said. All two thousand, six hundred and eighty three of us.”
“...That’s a lot of siblings,” the Vaiki contemplated. “But... my glow is weird. It doesn’t come from anywhere. Mom and Dad don’t have it. My brother and sister don’t have it. And neither did any of my grandparents. My teacher said it could be a mutation. Those happen, sometimes.”
“Mmm, yes, I’ve heard of that. Every trait starts somewhere, after all.”
The Vaiki nodded. “That’s what I thought, too. So when I got home, I asked mom and Dad about it. But then... Mom started acting weird. Like, shifty. Defensive. And Dad got upset. They started fighting, and didn’t stop all night.” They blinked back a fresh set of tears. “I... I think I did something wrong. I think they hate me.”
“...Oh...” Micha didn’t know what to say. “I’m... I’m sure they don’t hate you.”
They weren’t listening. “I don’t want to make them fight. So I told them I was going to school this morning and I left. And now I’m here.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” they confirmed.
The snail struggled to put together the words. “...I’m sorry, I never caught your name. I’m Micha. What’s yours?” they stalled.
“Jamie.”
“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jamie,” they said, to which Jamie simply ‘Mmph’ed in return. Then, a few minutes later, they started in again. “Listen, Jamie,” they began, “I know you’re upset. I can’t blame you for that. But I’m sure your mom and dad don’t hate you. And I’d be willing to bet they’re worried sick over you, disappearing in a storm like this”
Jamie simply flicked their tail in response, landing with a harsh
flump on the damp cave floor.
Micha continued. “When I was young, my brother got in a fight with our mother and disappeared, kind of like you did. But even though they’d been fighting, even though there were thousands of us, she was worried half to death about him. Humans think of snails like me as pests. Some Vaikis and other people do, too. She was so scared he’d gone out and gotten himself found and killed. She was afraid her last moments with her son were spent arguing over nothing important. And when he came back the next day, she was so relieved, she cried.” They took a breath. “I can’t claim to know what your home life is like. But I’m sure your parents are as worried for you as mine for him. So it’d mean a lot to me if, once this storm clears up, you’ll go back home so they know you’re okay.”
Jamie was quiet for a while. And then, at last, they replied, “I’ll think about it.”
Micha supposed that was all they could ask for. “Okay.”
———
They’d slept by the Vaiki’s side that night, and when they awoke the next morning, they were gone. They could only hope that Jamie had made it home safely.
But every now and then, Micha would visit that cave, and on nights before storms, they always found fruits and veggies left behind. And so did their children, and their children’s children, and so on for generations, right up to the snail with glowing markings running down their length.
