by Desmond » Wed Oct 08, 2014 1:41 pm
Username: Bentley
Name: Kazi
Gender: Female
Story: When they said life was a highway, they meant it. Kazi'd spent the majority of her life racing from one place to the next, always seemingly on a mission, seeking or trailing something that just barely escaped her, slipping from her paws like water through sand.
One particular trip, began as more of a family search. Not her family, perhaps, but someone else's, and she wasn't going to let someone go without their loved one so long as she could help it. The location wasn't easy to find or navigate through - no road, no path, not even the faintest of deer trails were reported to lead through the trees, but it was the most likely place that the missing creature - an adolescent coyote whose family had once leant a truce to Kazi for her assistance in finding water - would have stumbled into and remained, looking for shelter among some of the hollowed trunks.
With a rumbling grumble, she stared at the edge of the forest, her ears pinned back as she contemplated. 'Family,' she reminded herself, even as a distant cry sounded from somewhere deep in the massive maze of trees. The place was old; the type that would house monsters, such as the wickedly hungry wendigo and hidden skinwalkers set to drive anyone foolish enough to wander in to madness before finally claiming their prey. Curses and traps were uncommon in these types of locations, but still highly possible, spelled with the misery of long-dead humans as they suffered exile at the hands of invaders, each with their own creatures and diseases to spread and flourish in the new territory.
Never mind the normal beasts that took to the unbridled wild - bears, wolves and huge wild cats would happily take her as prey if they could.
A deep breath - in. Out.
Kazi stepped forward, her ears flicking every which way. She couldn't afford to be caught by surprise, not here, not with someone's life at stake. Not while someone who actually had a family and a home to return to needed her.
The first steps in were soft; the leaves were still fresh, and the sticks – twigs, really – either bent or quietly snapped underfoot. She could feel eyes upon her, sizing her up, already figuring out how much of a fight she’d put up before she could be disabled and… who knows what would happen from there.
Further in, the forest grew dense, the low branches scratching at her sides. Kazi bore her teeth at them, swallowing the growl that could be a dead giveaway, if it wasn’t for the dying litter that covered the forest floor. Every footfall was marked by a swishing crunch as the leaves were crushed, or a soft snap of sticks breaking. It was, therefore, no surprise when she came face-to-face with glowing yellow eyes in the distance, so similar to her own – but undoubtedly dangerous.
Pausing, Kazi braced herself, spreading her front legs in a stable V and pushing her strength to her chest, to lessen the impact if it charged. Her fur bushed up, the huge feathers framing her face like the displays of so many birds. This was a fight, she knew, as the yellow-eyed thing approached. It was her fight to win, not because she was confident and strong, but because she had to, and if she didn’t-!
The coyote pup pulled itself from the thorn bush, limping on shaky legs, half of its fur gone in huge clumps. Its vacant eyes stared, void of thought or soul or whatever it was that made creatures into individuals, instead replaced by the mind of a monster, by starvation, disease or influence by one of those that his rescuer had feared upon entering the treeline. Kazi’s display flickered, and then fell away, knowing it wouldn’t help her here. The youngling was beyond saving, dying already; she’d failed miserably and all that was left was to bring the starved remains home.
The return trip took more time than the journey to the forest, but Kazi could hardly recall any of it; her precious load may have been expertly wrapped in the largest leaves and vines available, but it was heavy on her body, mind and heart even without her needing to see it. As she finally approached the coyote family’s territory, she slowed, her head hanging low, and looked up only to stare apologetically at the mother.
Kazi couldn’t bear it; she turned and walked away, leaving the bundled pup behind. She’d failed in the mission; it was likely that she wasn’t going to be welcomed back, or permitted the terms of their truce for much longer after the family had mourned. For what certainly wasn’t the first time, she wondered what it would be like, to have a home to return to, for the long road she was always on to lead her somewhere other than a lonely place to curl up and try to stave off death until morning.
What made a home a home, and not just a safe hovel?
That night was spent at the banks of a creek, in an aborted effort by some kind of large rodent (Kazi’d guessed muskrat by the size) to make a den, made larger with some work of her own. A tight squeeze, perhaps, but the mud was soft and the water was fresh.
It was a good place to rest and think. And so, Kazi thought.
She thought about family; how she’d failed the coyote clan, and how they would mourn the lost pup. How they would curl up around each other, comforting the other kin and drawing comfort from being together. How they would, eventually, move on.
Kazi… had never had that. Abandoned soon after weaning, she had learned to hold onto herself, to be strong and self-supporting, and above all… to live the loneliest life she could have possibly made for herself.
Kazi didn’t have a home.
So, she decided, she’d be her own.
