Flo's Challenge to me

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"Ummmmm..."

982 words

The Mearess strared at the little fox lying on the bed
"She hasn't moved at all?"
The water rat shook her head "Hasn't moved, hasn't spoken, won't eat or drink."
The bear sighed "Anything broken?"
"No. Just a few cuts, but I'm afraid she's severely dehydrated and all but starved."
"But she won't eat."
"Not a bite."
"Is she traumatized? "
"Quite possibly but by what?"
The Mearess turned to the shelf where the belt of daggers was laid "Well, judging by the fact she was wearing weapons and by the scars, she was likely a warrior. Perhaps from some wandering clan."
"Well it won't matter what she was if she doesn't get something inside her soon."
The Mearess turned from frowning at the deadly weapons "I suppose if she won't eat it herself we'll have to give her some help."
She picked up a tumbler of water and stepped closer to the white fox.
She studied the blank eyes first, they were jarringly differnt, one a too bright blue and the other a green similar to some sorts of poison the Mearess had seen, but they shared the emptiness.
"Well Bright eyes, come on," the bear slipped her paw beneath the fox's back and lifted her whole body up into a sitting position, then held the fragile head steady "This'll do you more good then you think."
She pressed the glass to the pale lips and let a few drops slip into the fox's mouth.
"I don't think she's getting any of it," the rat said, leaning close and squinting at the water dribbling down the fox's chin.
"I know," the Mearess tipped the fox's head up high "Lets try this again, hmm?"
This time as the water poured down into her throat the fox swallowed reflexively and blinked.
"That's better, isn't it?" the Mearess smiled and trickled down a few more drops of water into her mouth.
The white fox blinked, her brown wrinkling as she tasted the water, then she swallowed of her own will.
"Can she hold it?" The rat asked.
"I doubt it, she's not even holding herself up," The Mearess let the rest of the water pour into the fox's mouth "Is that typical of trauma?"
"Not in any cases I've seen. Perhaps she's paralytic?" She paused "Or..."
"Or?"
"Perhaps she's a simpleton. Halfwit. Can't control her own body."
The Mearess frowned as she looked down at the blinking eyes, still blank "Perhaps... She's like a newborn child. Should we try feeding her?"
"Something soft, maybe, some mashed berries."
"For a fox?"
"Oh. Well, some grounded fish then."

The Mearess slowly lowered the fox down onto the bed "Do you think she'll ever talk? Or walk?"
"Maybe. In time...Do you think we should give her a name?"
"Certainly wouldn't hurt. What do you think we should call her?"
"Oh..." the rat paused "Ummm...."
"We'll think of something later," the Mearess laughed softly "Let's just get some food in her first."

[Ranger of the North]

o.o


Also, what's a Mearess?

[TheSongOfTheStars]

Something I made up, in the story world it's someone who is in charge of a Mont, which is sorta like an abbey or like a mission.

[Ranger of the North]

Something I made up, in the story world it's someone who is in charge of a Mont, which is sorta like an abbey or like a mission.

Oh, interesting c:

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"The sea... it calls me."
1,481

At midnight she felt the longing rise up in her restless heart once more.
Stronger than times before, she slipped out of bed, intending to find a book to cure her sleepless mind as it had in nights past.
But as she passed by the window she paused.
The moon was a thin sliver of silver that hung high in the sky and its weak light cascaded over the window seat, and the stirring rose like the wind over the still ocean, pressing up the desire like the wind threw up waves.
Maybe she'd just... look at it.... touch it...just for a moment...
Then she'd put it away again.

She slipped her hand beneath the bed and slide out the small box, removing the folded winter clothes until the silky coat was revealed.
Even in the dim light the soft fur seemed to gleam beneath her fingers as she stroked it, as she leaned her face into it, she scented the wild yet undeniably familiar salt of the sea wind, it stirred her blood and soothed her restless heart.
She stood up and unfolded the cloak fully, hugging it to her as if it was a living thing.
The urge to slip it over her shoulders and the hood close over her ears was nearly irresistible, but she fought it off as she had times before and slowly began to fold it up again.
A rattling at the window startled her and she glanced up to find shreds of cloud racing across the moon.
She chided herself for jumping so easily and began to kneel again to place the coat back in the box when another note in the wind caught her ears.

Like a nervous moth fluttering just at the edges of the licking flames, she glided back to the window, clutching the half-folded cloak to her chest.
It soughed beneath the dancing leaves it wove between the beams of starlight, till it came to cry at the panes.

Like a star lost in the salt, like a song far away over the sea, it was shatteringly mournful and beyond all of her understanding.
She stood still as ice for a moment, listening with an ache in her soul and a mist in her mind, then silently she was drifting down the stairs as if she was being drawn by strings.
Outside the air was cold against her face, but the cloak was warm around her body as if it had its own pulse.

Down the street she drifted barely touching the stones as if she was being carried on a gentle but irresistible swell of water.
Towards the ocean she followed the song, still being carried and still wrapped in the mist.

Past the docks and the sleeping ships, to the long stretch of silver gleaming sand.
The whisper grew to a full song, pouring out from the sea to fill the air with a crystal purity.

The swell died beneath her, leaving her standing where the grass and the sand met. She stayed, breathless, waiting, though for what she wasn't certain.

Then, out of the rolling water rose a shining figure drenched in starry flecked foam. It danced further onto the beach until it reached a flat area, where it was joined by other figures who rose out of the surf in the same way.

Then the singing really began.
Like a wave that had been building across the ocean to break on the shore it crashed down on the beach and swept away her breath.

With their voices the dancing creatures could've pulled the stars from the sky and it drew Shyshie down from the tops of the dune.
For a second she hesitated on the edge of the swirling circle of graceful forms, afraid.
A dream.
A dream.
It was a dream.

And she had nothing to lose.

She stepped into the ring and immediately found herself surrounded, brushed by the long cloaks that matched her own but never shoved or actually touched by one of the dancers.
Indeed none of them had actually noticed her hesitant entrance, there was neither pause in song or in step.
So even though she didn't know the dance or understand the language that the song was sung in, she threw herself into their midst, weaving between them and beginning to catch the rhythm.
The urge to add her voice to theirs filled and she began at first only to hum the rising and falling melody, then she opened her mouth and poured her voice out in wordless song.

She spent all eternity and only half a second with them, as one of their own, until the edges of the sky where turning gray and the tide began to fall out. Then as strangely as they had come, they left, slipping back into the water, leaving her exhausted and alone on the sand, longing to follow them, but afraid.

Her mind was drowsy but her body did not ache as if she had not danced the night and her throat felt like silk rather than sand as it should've after the hours of song.
She knelt, pulling her cloak close around her, and fell into a warm sleep.

Darkmoon wasn't sure why she was awake, staring at the ceiling again. Honestly the early hour insomnia was getting so old.

She tried to close her eyes, but every time an unsettling feeling crept up on her and she felt the urge to scan the room.
Maybe it was the stillness. Most times when she awoke early it was because Shyshie had already risen and was moving around. But now it was perfect silence, Shyshie must've still been asleep.
She had to be.

Darkmoon shut her eyes, trying to convince herself that her daughter was safe in her bed and there was no need to get up.
She knew if she got up there would be no going back and she wasn't ready for that commitment yet.
Then with a sigh she slipped out from the covers, muttering in annoyance at her own paranoia, but her voice fell dead in her throat as she noted Shyshie's opened bedroom door.
Never could she recall Shyshie sleeping with it open.
With a dry mouth she peered around the door and stared at the box and the winter clothes strewn across the floor.

Her stomach like ice she rushed down the stairs to find the front door creaking in the wind.
"Shyshie!!!"

Her breath hard and short she raced across the yard, through the gate that had also been left open and onto the neighboring porch.
With her bare paws she beat the wood, ignoring the sting of the splinters, until finally she heard steps in the hall.

Yawning, with his hat barely shuffled on his head, Martin opened the door and stared with bleary surprise at the cat, shivering in her nightclothes.
"She's here, she has to be here, please tell me she's here..."

He blinked "Who?"

"My daughter idiot!" Her voice rose to a screeching pitch "She's gone!"

Martin jerked and he became fully awake "How long?"

"I don't know!!!" Her voice broke with terror "I just found her room empty and the front door open."
"She's not over at Rolland's?"

"I-I...."
"Go check, I'll get Lily up and get my shoes on."

The ringtail doctor hadn't seen Shyshie, nor had anyone else in the neighborhood, so the search spread.
It was hours later, the sun had risen to the middle of the sky, and Darkmoon was despairing.
It was in the shadow of a little shack on the edge of a stretch of the beach that she finally collapsed, still in her nightclothes, and sobbed into the dust.

She was certain how long she simply bawled, but her throat was rough and her eyes where swollen when Coe's hand gripped against her shoulder and pulled her up.

He didn't say anything, simply pointed towards the sand, where a pair of prints led over the dunes.

Feeling sick and hopeful at the same time, Darkmoon staggered to her feet and ran, her cousin close behind her.
The mad dash ended at the top of the nearest dune, where Darkmoon froze as she saw the little figure curled up on the edge of the water, the surf lapping up at it.

Coe paused for half a second, then tore silently down the hill, coming to a sliding halt over Shyshie's still body.
He fell to his knees, his hand hovering over her shoulder, but a sudden shove from Darkmoon sent him sprawling into the wet sand.

"Shyshie?!?" Darkmoon wrapped her arms around her daughter "Shyshie, wake up!"

Slowly Shyshie's eyes opened and she yawned
"Mama?"
Darkmoon pulled her close, sobbing gratefully.
"Are you alright? Are you alright?"

Shyshie's eyes where fully open now, a dreamy smile on her face.
"I'm fine, Mama, I'm fine."

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"I can't loose you!"

1,571

Ever since they had found her lying on the shore, draped in a strange coat, Shyshie had drifted through the days with a dreamy smile and dazed eyes.
She never explained how she ended up on the beach, sprayed with sand.
Whenever anyone pressed her she only sighed sweetly and only said that she had a dream.

And she refused to take off the coat.

Darkmoon worried and fussed and begged and threatened, but Shyshie seemed to have stayed within the dream, the world didn't affect her in the way it had before.
She didn't touch a book not even to finish the one she had been in the midst of one, she didn't sing a single note, she barely even spoke beyond what others pressed her to say.

Darkmoon insisted that Shyshie sleep in her room, in fact, she never let her daughter out of her sight, but Shyshie didn't seem to care.

And it was this apathy that scared them all the most.

Not even Rolland, skilled as he was in matters of behavior and the ways of the mind could understand what had happened.

Darkmoon found herself sleeping less and less while Shyshie slept more and more, trying to reclaim the dream.

On one night, when the moon hung full and round, Darkmoon couldn't even close her eyes.
Shyshie had all the appearance of being fast asleep, but Darkmoon couldn't shake the uneasy sensation that this night was far too alike to the one a few week ago even though it was still and the moon was filled out.

She sighed and reached her arm out to pull Shyshie closer to her, but ended up with an armful of cold blanket.
With a gasp she sat bolt upright just in time to see a corner of the coat flicking out the door.

"Shyshie! Come back!"

Darkmoon catapulted out of bed and rushed to the door, only to see the small figure disappear around the bottom of the stairs.

"Shyshie, no!"

Somehow, though desperation and fear fueled her feet, Shyshie was always far ahead of her.

Fear rising in her already chilled heart, Darkmoon realized that Shyshie was retracing her trail back to the beach.
That beach where every had fallen apart.

Her chest burned and her legs felt like they where coming to pieces, but Shyshie easily stayed ahead of her right until they actually reached the beach.
Shyshie paused at the summit of the dune, the moon bathing her in pale cold light.
"Shyshie.... Shyshie, please..."

Darkmoon put on the last of her speed and reached out for Shyshie's sleeve, just as Shyshie began walking down the dune.

Overbalanced and breathless Darkmoon sprawled face-first into the sand, where she stayed, too exhausted to even move.

Slowly, spitting out sand, she dug her elbows down and lifted her head and stared with mute horror.

Strange figures where rising out of the surf to join others in a dancing circle of forms, and one, small one, descended the sand and joined from the land.

"Shyshie, no."

She didn't dare raise her voice beyond a hoarse whisper for the fear of drawing the dancer's attention.

She no longer could distinguish her daughter from the whirling mass and she was powerless to pull Shyshie away.
Helpless to save her daughter, to break the enchantment over her.

The dancers began to weave in their steps quicker and quicker, then the singing began.

Darkmoon had heard her daughter sing many times, and every time she had marveled at the beauty and clarity even though Shyshie was so young.
But now, it was as if it was all the fulfillment of the promise that Shyshie held, the dancers wove pure starlight into their voices, filling the air with soaring melodies. The words scintillated in time with the stars and rose a faint longing in Darkmoon's mind.
For a moment she felt a near overwhelming urge to rush out and join them, then it faded and fear returned.

Hours passed with a heartbeat and the gray edges of the morning were peeling back on the sky when the singing slowly sank to a murmur, then ceased. The dancers slowed and one by one they went back to the water, until there was one left, a slender figure hesitated at the edge of the waves.
With a jolt of panic Darkmoon realized that it was Shyshie who hovered at the water, seconds away from joining the dancers in the ocean.

"No!!"

Darkmoon screamed, her raw broken voice shredding the silence.

Shyshie startled and looked up, for the first time seeming to have awoke from her dream.
"Mama?"

"Don't! Don't leave!"
Shyshie stayed frozen in place until Darkmoon reached her and wrapped her in an iron embrace.
"But Mama.... I want to swim...."

"No! No, no, no!"
Darkmoon sobbed, trying to pull Shyshie away.

But Shyshie leaned against her "Please Mama, please! I want to go!"
"No! I can't loose you!"

Shyshie began to struggle, kicking up the sand.
"Please! I have to!"

"No! What's wrong with you?!?"

Darkmoon stood up, dragging Shyshie with her, and stumbled a step back from the waves.

Shyshie slipped out of her mother's arms and raced back to water, and with only the hesitation of a breath, she dipped her toes into the cold sea.

But something made her stop and look up.

Blue eyes fixated her in a silent stare from the waves.

Slowly the cloaked figure stood, never breaking eye contact with her.
"What is your name, child?"

"Stalkwalk," She breathed in reply "Shyshie Starwalk."

"And is she your mother?"

Shyshie looked over her shoulder at Darkmoon, who was sprayed with sand and soaked with salt, terror in her eyes.
"Yes."

He reached out to touch her coat.
"Is this yours?"

"No, I...I found it."

He nodded slowly, then turned and walked along the edge of the shore, commanding gently "Come. We will discuss this somewhere safe."

Without questioning Shyshie began to follow him, but Darkmoon caught at her and held her back.

"We're not going anywhere with you."
He held his hands out in a soothing gesture "I only wish to help your daughter."

Seeing Darkmoon's continuing hesitation he took a step closer "Your daughter has found a coat of our kind and danced with us, she may not be well."

Darkmoon looked down into Shyshie dreamy, dazed eyes, then up again at the stranger.

"Okay," She whispered "But if you hurt her I'll kill you."


The horizon had turned rosy pink when they found shelter in a clump of boulders.

The strange dancer removed his hood, revealing his face and his species.
He was a fox with deep gray fur streaked thinly with silver, a serious draw to his forehead.

"Alright," Darkmoon locked eyes with him and for the first time noticed the depth to his gaze, the well of thoughts beyond her own understanding, but she didn't back down "How will you fix her?"

He reached out to Shyshie and she stepped towards him. Gently he slipped the hood from her face and studied her eyes with intensity.

"You've danced with us before, haven't you?"

She nodded.

Gently he slipped his paw under hers and raised it up, but paused when he saw the bracelet.
"Did you find this with the coat?"

She shook her head.
"Where did you get it?"

"I gave it to her," Darkmoon replied "Her father gave it to me. It belonged to his grandmother."

"And where... did she get it?"

Darkmoon shrugged.

He tilted Shyshie's chin up slightly, as if for the first time noticing her blue eyes.

"Her father, does she resemble him?"

Looking down, Darkmoon nodded.

"And him, does he resemble his grandmother much?"

"I only ever saw pictures of her, but they looked quite similar."

"Well."
He leaned back and pulled his hood over his face.
"I believe I see now."

Shyshie tilted her head curiously while Darkmoon felt her heart drop out.

"It's been so long, I didn't even think that it could be true."

"What?"
Darkmoon's voice was harsh and flat.
"What is it?"

"I am not totally certain, it's been so long, but..." He paused for a second "I believe your child may have Selkie blood."

The silence that fell over them was all encompassing, Darkmoon couldn't hear her own heartbeat. She couldn't hear her own thoughts.

She could've been screaming, she could've been crying, she couldn't hear anything.

"Mama?"

Shyshie's soft, unconcerned voice broke through Darkmoon's stunned deafness.

And like the small stone that dislodges the mountain, the little voice sent Darkmoon's mind into an avalanche of emotion and thoughts.

Every story of Selkies came flooding into her mind, the single theme, the tragic concern of every tale, overwhelmed her.

Selkies, always returned to the sea.
And they never came back to the land.

"No."

"There's only one way to know for certain," He said quietly "If she is, then the sea will clear her mind, if she isn't then... well time is the only cure for what ails her."

He stood and Shyshie followed him as he passed out from the shadows of the boulders.

Darkmoon stayed sitting in the sand, taking shallow shuddering breaths.
She couldn't even stand anymore, to turn and watch the sea take everything away.

The was a splash in the surf and a laugh and Darkmoon lost all hope.
She curled over and simply collapsed in the sand.

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"She's gone."
993

Along the stretch of somber gray beach Shyshie trudged towards the water, Friskya close behind her, sniffling at intervals.
When they reached the restless surf, Friskya spoke quietly.

"Do we have to, Mama?"
Shyshie pulled in a sharp breath, knowing that Friskya would not want to understand, no matter how Shyshie explained and excused herself.
But the simple matter was, she was running away.

She couldn't stand it anymore. The stories where true.
A selkie on land was cursed.


She thought because she had blood of the land she could escape tragedy, but it dogged her and her family at every turn.

"We have to," Shyshie said, her voice cracked "We don't belong here Frisk. We belong in the sea. We're selkies, it's our home."

"But Grandmama said-"
"I know what she said," Shyshie hissed, feeling her treacherous emotions beginning to betray her "But... but... she's.... she's gone now... this isn't our home anymore."

Tears began to slip down Friskya's face and Shyshie knelt next to her and wrapped her in a tight embrace, hushing her quietly.
"It'll be alright Friskya, we'll have a new home, we'll be happy there."

Friskya took a shivering breath and nodded, stepping back to look up at her mother with swimming blue eyes.

"Will we ever come back? To see Uncle Martin and Aunt Lily and Raven and the baby and... and everyone else? Just for a little?"
"M-maybe, but you'll like living at the grotto. You... might not want to come back..."

Shyshie bit down on her words, even though they felt like poison. She was a coward.
She wouldn't even let Friskya say goodbye. She didn't dare let herself say goodbye.
If she did, she might never leave.

The soft crunch of sand beneath heavy boots startled her, and she looked up to see two familiar figures slowly descending the dune.
She stood rooted to the spot, too guilty to turn and run away.

"I'm going," She whispered, when they where near enough to hear her.

Martin and Rusty exchanged slow glances, then looked back at her.

"We know," Martin replied quietly "We're not here to stop you."
"We're here to say goodbye."

She stared at them, swallowing hard.
She could still see the two boys who had shuffled in oversized clothes and boots, who laughed like little children at the smallest things.
She had watched those boys their whole lives, watched them grow. From young sailors to captains, from husbands to fathers, from the unknown to the renown, from uncertain children to steady leaders.
And they had been her friends the whole time.
Now....
Now their fur was gray turning to white, while hers was still rich brown. Rusty's shoulders drooped from the many cares of his long years of kingship. Martin's hands where nearly crippled from the aches.
She had watched them grow and watched them fade, while her selkie blood kept her young and stretched out her years.
She had once belonged.
But it was time now for her to go.

"We'll come see you all the time, Uncle Martin," Friskya tugged at the otter's sleeve and smiled up at him "And Aunt Lily and...and everyone else."
"Of course," Martin beamed at her through bleary eyes "You and your mum are welcome whenever you want."
"Yes," Rusty said, kneeling slowly and wrapping his arms around her shoulders "Come visit us Frisk."

Then he stood and faced Shyshie, who was standing silent, breathing heavily.

"Come visit us Shyshie. Please."

"I don't know...when I should..."
"When you want to."

Then almost as if they practiced it, even though she knew they hadn't, they began to list off in turns.

"When you miss your books."
"Or when you just want to talk."
"When you're tired of fish and want something else."
"If you want a bed to sleep in."
"Or if you feel alone."
"When you're lost and you just don't know where to turn."
"When you need advice and something hot to drink."

"That's when." Martin pulled his hat and dangled it against his leg, tears slipping down his face.
Silently Shyshie flung her arms around him, even though she was afraid that if she held too tight she might never let go.

Another pair of arms wrapped around them both, sandwiching Shyshie between her friends.
She closed her eyes as the tears began to fall, like the first cracks through a frozen waterfall. Then she burst out sobbing, uncontrollably and unashamedly soaking Martin's shirt.
None of them wanted to let go, but finally, reluctantly, they let go of her.

"I love you."
"I love you."
Rusty and Martin echoed each other in broken voices.

"I love you. I'll never forget you."
"Bye Uncle Martin! Bye Uncle Rusty! Loves you!"

"Goodbye Friskya."
"Loves ya Friskya."

Drying her eyes and sniffling, Shyshie turned to her daughter and held out her paw.
Smiling, not understanding her mother's tears, Friskya slipped her fingers into Shyshie's.
As one they turned towards the restless ocean and descended into it.

Friskya waved over her shoulder, just as a waved washed over her head. Then she and Shyshie where gone.

Martin and Rusty stood side-by-side, staring, for a long time after the selkies had returned to the sea.

"She...She's not coming back, you know that, right?" Rusty croaked, breaking the vast silence.

Martin didn't reply, his eyes still fixed on the distant horizon.
"You there, mate?"

A soft sigh blew past Martin's whiskers as he turned, not meeting his friend's gaze "Let's go home."


"Martin? Is that you?"

Martin sighed as he pushed the door close behind him and entered into the library where Lily was huddled close to the fire, draping in several thick shawls.
Even so she was shivering.

"Did you find her?"

He sat down next to her, his hat gripped as tightly as his arthritis riddled paws could bear.

"Yes."

"Where is she?"

He took a shuddering breath and turned to look at her "She's gone."

[Ranger of the North]

Oh, no!
Dude, you have to fix Shyshie! Don't do this to me — or them — or her!

THE SIRENS GOT HER

[TheSongOfTheStars]

Ohhh?
I just HAVE to?

[Ranger of the North]

Ohhh?
I just HAVE to?

YES!
Oh gosh, don't you dare get any more evil ideas! Please. Argh!

hhh I can convince Wren to hurt... whoever-your-favourite-Timeless-Series-character-is c:<