{"submission_id":"141875","keywords":[{"keyword_id":"199","keyword_name":"bear","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"23828"},{"keyword_id":"631","keyword_name":"coyote","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"6142"},{"keyword_id":"33","keyword_name":"fox","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"135344"},{"keyword_id":"65086","keyword_name":"helot","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"1"},{"keyword_id":"1670","keyword_name":"horror","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"2261"},{"keyword_id":"6173","keyword_name":"sparta","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"14"},{"keyword_id":"164","keyword_name":"wolf","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"111545"}],"hidden":"f","scraps":"f","favorite":"f","favorites_count":"0","create_datetime":"2011-09-02 11:14:03.162377+02","create_datetime_usertime":"02 Sep 2011 11:14 CEST","last_file_update_datetime":"2011-09-05 15:57:58.812041+02","last_file_update_datetime_usertime":"05 Sep 2011 15:57 CEST","username":"Chaon","user_id":"9321","user_icon_file_name":"12026_Chaon_avatar.gif","user_icon_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/large/12/12026_Chaon_avatar.gif","user_icon_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/medium/12/12026_Chaon_avatar.gif","user_icon_url_small":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/12/12026_Chaon_avatar.gif","file_name":"184392_Chaon_tarry_town.doc","file_url_full":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/full/184/184392_Chaon_tarry_town.doc","file_url_screen":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/184/184392_Chaon_tarry_town.doc","file_url_preview":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/184/184392_Chaon_tarry_town.doc","files":[{"file_id":"184392","file_name":"184392_Chaon_tarry_town.doc","file_url_full":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/full/184/184392_Chaon_tarry_town.doc","file_url_screen":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/184/184392_Chaon_tarry_town.doc","file_url_preview":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/184/184392_Chaon_tarry_town.doc","mimetype":"application/msword","submission_id":"141875","user_id":"9321","submission_file_order":"0","full_size_x":null,"full_size_y":null,"screen_size_x":null,"screen_size_y":null,"preview_size_x":null,"preview_size_y":null,"initial_file_md5":"27a6dde7f696f7bc68c606ddd93b6427","full_file_md5":"27a6dde7f696f7bc68c606ddd93b6427","large_file_md5":"","small_file_md5":"","thumbnail_md5":"","deleted":"f","create_datetime":"2011-09-05 15:57:58.812041+02","create_datetime_usertime":"05 Sep 2011 15:57 CEST"}],"pools":[],"description":"Just a short story patterned after the 1001 arabian nights. A group of bears have captured a fox cub, and the latter has to keep them entertained with stories to postpone the moment when he becomes dinner. This is the first story to be told--a simple piece, nothing too flashy/fancy.\n\nClean writing, so give it a go if you're feeling adventurous. Maybe you'll like it anyway.","description_bbcode_parsed":"Just a short story patterned after the 1001 arabian nights. A group of bears have captured a fox cub, and the latter has to keep them entertained with stories to postpone the moment when he becomes dinner. This is the first story to be told--a simple piece, nothing too flashy/fancy.

Clean writing, so give it a go if you're feeling adventurous. Maybe you'll like it anyway.","writing":"(Characters, setting etc. all copyright to author. Please do not edit or distribute without permission. Thx)\n\nSpeak of the devil—here’s Ragnar at last; shaking snow off his coat. \n\n\t“Slim pickings?”\n\t\n\t“Don’t you start. Watch this one—caught ‘im trying to force his collar off.”\n\n\tOrik prods his quarry; snorts disgust. “When we said to get entertainment, this isn’t exactly what we had in mind…”\n\n\tCouldn’t have put it better myself. The child dangling by its scruff at the end of Ragnar’s paw is a poor specimen, even by the sorry standards of its race—too skinny to give a good fight, hardly even a mouthful! “Guess bear-baiting’s out of the question, then.” \n\n\t“Could try,” Hrafn scratches his jaw doubtfully. “Perhaps a handicap…”\n\n\t“No,” Sigurd saunters over. “Make it tell us a story.”\n\n\tI don’t bother saying anything. Once Sigurd gets some crazy notion into his head he’s just like one of these dratted curs with a bone—nothing can make him let go. But he’s still the biggest of us, so Ragnar relinquishes his catch without further protest. Nobody likes a torn ear. \n\n\tWe form a ring around both of them. For a moment, I pity the whelp—naked and helpless, surrounded by his ancestral foe. How old is he—ten, eleven? \n\n\t“Stand, runt,”\n\n\tIt makes a few terrified squeaks from its muzzle. Sigurd waits a few seconds before delivering a kick. Just a light nudge, but more than enough to send him rolling, landing right between my paws. I nose at the quivering heap, and it yips once before scuttling backwards out of bite-range. “When a bear tells you to stand, you stand,”\n\n\tEventually the urchin pulls itself to its feet. Bathed in orange glow, the pointed features of an arctic fox shine in firelight, flickering hues playing across its white winter coat. Sigurd raises its chin with a claw. “Sing to us, cub. Sing—or you’re supper. And make it a good one, or we’ll take what’s…” he lets his gaze fall towards the crotch. “—here on offer…”\n\n\tHrafn and Orik exchange lewd grins. The kit flushes red, tail uncurling to recover some modesty. Sigurd won’t let him go, of course. Winter’s long, and we’ve to eat sooner or later. One day the Alpha will lose interest in his pet—and then it’ll be roast cur on the menu with hot blood to follow. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.\t \n\n\tFor a moment there’s silence; broken by the occasional muffled sob to escape his muzzle—dry, heaving gasps shaking that matchstick frame. Reddened eyes fix on each of us in turn; misted in a film of tears. Jaws open and shut, grasping for words far out of reach. Orik’s cough nearly has him jump out of his fur, tail a-frizz as he makes his first sound of the evening—a strangled yelp. \n\n\t“Good start,” someone says. Chuckles all around… The voice is familiar. Was it me?\n\n\tStrangely enough, it has the desired effect. Whines and snuffling subside; turn into words—so soft that we must strain our ears to catch them; like fleeting smoke. “We…” A bony chest hitches. He exhales; tries again. “We called it—\n\n\n\t“Tarry Town,” she glanced about. “I’ve never seen it up close. It’s beautiful!”\n\n\t“Only at night,” \n\n\t“Come again?”\n\n\t“All of this,” I gestured at the lights and music. “Only starts at night. By morning, it’s just a ruin,” \n\n\t“Yeah, right,”\n\n\t“I’m serious! Ask anyone!”\n\n\t“Whatever. Are we going inside or not?” Alora shouldered past me through the gates. Girls…\n\n\tSomething tugged my arm. “Tod; don’t go in there. It’s bad. Please,” \n\n\t“I have to, Cody. Mom’s sick. She hasn’t eaten all day. We have to scrounge something,”\n\n\t“Junkyard,” he toyed with the loose collar round his neck. “Someplace else…!”\n\n\t“We tried the junkyard, Cody,” I pried him loose. “Tarry Town’s loaded! We’ll be home in no time. Promise,”\n\n\t“Pinky-swear?” \n\n\t“Pinky-swear,” I locked claws with the little coyote hybrid, tousling his fur. “Trust me. Now let’s go see what ‘Lora’s up to before she does somethin’ stupid. Again,”\n\n\t“I heard that!” I rolled my eyes. Cody giggled. \n\n\tWe snuck past the iron gates. Tarry Town’s like a maze—winding streets everywhere, with flashing signs and bright lights. I let Alora lead, making sure my paw stayed on Cody’s shoulder as we rummaged through the scrap-heaps. No sense getting lost… \n\n\tAll the stories were true. It was a gold mine! Alora scored a box of hardtack. Cody found three coppers—three!—lying in a gutter. “We’ll go soon as I get something. Almost time,”\n\n\t“Go?! Are you crazy? There must be heaps more stuff left!”\n\n\t“Place closes at dawn, ‘Lora. I don’t care if Shar’s treasure’s down here; I’m leaving way before then,” I dug through a promising pile of boxes. Nothing. \n\n\t“Who shuts it? And what’s making all those lights?” \n\n\t“How’d I know? It opens at night, shuts at dawn, and there’s stuff to take. Good enough for me,” This crate. No, that one… I caught a whiff —apples. They’d make a change mixed with gruel. Pine-bark gets boring after a while. And speaking of ‘whiles’… “What’s the time? How long till morning?”\n\n\t“Not for ages—stop worrying!” Alora flourished a cloak. “How’d I look?”\n\n\t“Terrible. Stop fooling and help me!” I chucked a can at her. \n\n\tShe flung it back—\n\n\tAnd soon enough there’s a trash-war in full fling; cans and bottles whizzing through the air. I ducked a carton, diving into a pile of oily papers. The scents! The tastes—food wrappers, some still with leftovers in them! The aroma of grease was mingled with something familiar. Meat—real meat! Not seal, but good nonetheless. \n\n\tBut first things first…\n\n\tI crept round the piles; padding softly through them in search of Alora’s scent, finding her facing the wrong direction. Perfect. \n\n\t“Tod, what—”\n\n\t“Shh!” I clapped a paw around the seven-year-old’s muzzle, flicking an ear at Alora. Cody got the message, grinned and nodded. “On three—One, Two…”\n\n\tWe leapt from hiding; from different directions. Alora never stood a chance. The wolf shrieked laughter as we made contact, fur on fur—ticklish, was she? Even better… \n\n\tShe bucked, rolled, and I found myself flat on my back, yellow eyes boring into mine. “My turn,” \n\n\tI squirmed as the tickling began. Something warm and wet slunk across my side. “No fair using tongues!”\n\n\t“All’s fair in war,” Claws plucked a wrapper free. “You’re delicious, Tod,” \n\n\tShe went back to licking; starting at the throat and working down to chest, to belly, to—\n\n\t“Not there!” that lingering touch made me stiffen all over. “Settled!”\n\n\tAlorna laughed, scrambling to her feet. “Wimp,”\n\n\t“Bear,” I snapped back, preening fur into place. She stuck her tongue out at me. \n\n\t“Tod! Look what I found!” Cody ran to meet me, flinging sticky arms about my neck. That smell! \n\n\t“You found honey?” No mistaking that taste.\n\n\t“There’s more! Over here!” he caught hold of my paw and I let him lead me through lanes and streets, to—\n\n\tA whole pile of the stuff; still in glass jars! The bears’ll pay a fortune for this! And Mom could use a lick or two… \n\n\tAlora came to join us. “You’d think there’d be more kids here—place isn’t that hard to find,”\n\n\tI picked one of the bigger jars, hugged it to my chest. “C’mon, let’s go.”\n\n\t“There’s still—oh,” Alora paused, gazing skyward. I followed her gaze to where a red disc was slowing rising from the east. “No…”\n\n\tEvery single light in Tarry Town went out. \n\n\t“Run!”\n\n\tLeft. Right. Another right…had we wandered that far? Gates loomed at last—still open wide. “We made it!”\t\n\n\tAlora sprinted through, skidded to a stop. I nearly ran into her. “What’s your problem?”\n\n\tShe just pointed. The gravel path we’d used earlier was gone; churning waves cutting us off from the mainland. I tested the waters with a paw. Cold—ice cold… “How deep is it?” I’d risk frostbite if it meant we could wade across. I took a step, then another; feeling the reassuring crunch of silt beneath my pads. The water kept on rising higher and higher, sea-floor sloping downward…\n\n\tThe swell came without warning and swept me off my feet. Salt stung my eyes, strong currents forcing me further away from shore. Something caught hold of me and I struggled. \n\n\t“Idiot—it’s only me,” Alora treaded water at my side, an arm round my waist. Somehow or other, we managed to make it back. She shook herself dry all over me. “That answer your question?”\n\n\t“I guess,” Stupid to think anyone could swim that distance. “Thanks,” \n\n\t“Do that again and I’m not saving you,” her fangs chattered. “You could be more grateful, y’know,”\n\n\tI wrapped my arms around her, sharing warmth as we waited for sodden fur to dry. Her limbs and fingers sent little stabs of ice where they dug into my pelt. “How’s this?”\n\n\t“It’s a start,” she snuggled against me, and I laid my head on her shoulder. It was a while before any of us said anything. “The shoal path returns at night, doesn’t it? We’ll wait till then,”\n\n\t“They say monsters come out at dawn.” I looked at the mainland; under an hour’s walk on foot. An impossible distance…\n\n\t“Wonderful,”\n\n\tA sound! Close—too close… “Hide!”\n\n\t“Where?”\n\n\t“Anywhere!” The ground shook all around us. “Siege golem,”\n\n\t“They aren’t real!”\n\n\t“Tell that to him!” we barely ducked the swipe of that monster claw, stranded in its floodlights. Alora hurled an apple at it. It simply bounced off the golem’s shiny ‘head’. “Not helping!”\n\n\t“You do something, then!”\n\n\tI threw without thinking. A honey jar went up in a lazy arc and shattered against metal plating, its contents oozing out over the machine. It took a step—and froze; pincers in mid-grab an inch from my nose. The glow died from its eyes.\n\n\t“Tod, you’re a genius!”\n\n\t“Thank me later. Split up!” I snagged Cody’s collar, yanking him along. “It can’t chase us all at once!”\n\n\t“Chase us?” Alora kicked it where the shin should be. “It’s dead—”\n\n\tHer howl echoed behind me as we raced for cover. I didn’t turn back.\n\n\tSomehow, it was like they knew where we’d go. Golems stalked right and left. I didn’t see Alora with any of them. Maybe she’d gotten away. Maybe…\n\n\tIt was nearing high-sun when we reached the center of town; an open square with a tall spire in the middle. How long could we hold out? Another hour? Two? Cody buried his nose in my fur. “It’s alright. If they come, I’ll distract them and—”\n\n\tHe glanced up. “They won’t come,” \n\n\t“What do you—”\n\n\t“Not till they’re called,” the coyote flicked at his collar, and I saw something I’d never noticed before—a small light flashing at its center. “Sorry, Tod—I had to!”\n\n\tWhirring gears… They came from nowhere, blocking all exits. “You distracted us with the honey,”\n\n\tHe flinched. “I warned you …”\n\n\tLights flooded the square, and I got my first look at the spire. It was moving—a living tower of tortured flesh. Cubs struggled and thrashed in vain against the clear tubes connecting them to its walls, stark against bare skin. They’d been shorn of fur; turned into living pincushions. \n\n\t“Tarry Town needs power, Tod. They used their own long ago…”\n\n\t Wolves and foxes at the bottom; kids our age. A gradual shift moving higher—kittens, weasels…humans. The ones on top weren’t moving as much. Some weren’t moving at all.\n\n\t“It’s you or me, Tod…”\n\n\tMy back came up against something smooth; solid—the tower wall. \n\n\t“Don’t fight and it won’t hurt too much—”\n\n\tCody trailed off, eyes wide with shock. A paw grasped his wrist. I turn and there’s Alora—captive, furless, tubes lodged in naked flesh. She’s managed to catch him by surprise, but not for long. “Tod, run!”\n\n\tWhere? Already the coyote was pulling himself free…\n\n\tThen a second arm! And another! They latched onto Cody, drawing him towards them; against the wall. He yowled as the first needles descended—Tarry Town’s newest victim.\n\n\t“Run,” Alora gave a final twitch and went limp. But the tower echoed her; a beast of many voices— \n\nRun. Run .Run…\n\nUseless—nowhere to go. One of the golems stomped over; claws outstretched. I shut my eyes.\n\nBut there’s no pain at all—only the faintest brush of leather at the throat…and I knew; knew even as I reached to confirm it, that my paw would find a dangling collar.\n\nThe golems were gone. Sunset was orange in the sky. The game was over. \n\nFor now…\n\n\n \tA chill wind carries the last notes of story-song into the distance. All around me my comrades stir; roused from some trance-like state. Sigurd yawns, displaying a maw of razor fangs. “Hmph—fairy tales,”\n\n\t“What’d you expect—a war saga?”\n\n\tI tune out their mutterings, tossing new twigs on the fire. Strangely enough; the kid’s still here, sitting quietly with tail curled round his knees. Guess he isn’t as smart as I thought—should’ve scarpered when he’d the chance. Too late now… I inch closer. He turns round. \n\n\t“Will you let me go?”\n\n\t“Probably not,” \n\n\t“Didn’t think so,”\n\n\tWe stay for a while staring at the fire; a curious pair—sprawled with head on my paws and a helot pup nestled against my side. Something jangles as he shifts into a more comfortable position beside me, and I turn just in time to see his collar gleam. Was that a spark, or just reflected firelight? His eyes are fathomless pools. There’s a faint noise from outside—a whirr, a clank? No, just the wind…\n\n\tBut I think I’ll keep one eye open all the same.\n\n\tJust in case. \n\n","writing_bbcode_parsed":"(Characters, setting etc. all copyright to author. Please do not edit or distribute without permission. Thx)

Speak of the devil—here’s Ragnar at last; shaking snow off his coat.

\t“Slim pickings?”
\t
\t“Don’t you start. Watch this one—caught ‘im trying to force his collar off.”

\tOrik prods his quarry; snorts disgust. “When we said to get entertainment, this isn’t exactly what we had in mind…”

\tCouldn’t have put it better myself. The child dangling by its scruff at the end of Ragnar’s paw is a poor specimen, even by the sorry standards of its race—too skinny to give a good fight, hardly even a mouthful! “Guess bear-baiting’s out of the question, then.”

\t“Could try,” Hrafn scratches his jaw doubtfully. “Perhaps a handicap…”

\t“No,” Sigurd saunters over. “Make it tell us a story.”

\tI don’t bother saying anything. Once Sigurd gets some crazy notion into his head he’s just like one of these dratted curs with a bone—nothing can make him let go. But he’s still the biggest of us, so Ragnar relinquishes his catch without further protest. Nobody likes a torn ear.

\tWe form a ring around both of them. For a moment, I pity the whelp—naked and helpless, surrounded by his ancestral foe. How old is he—ten, eleven?

\t“Stand, runt,”

\tIt makes a few terrified squeaks from its muzzle. Sigurd waits a few seconds before delivering a kick. Just a light nudge, but more than enough to send him rolling, landing right between my paws. I nose at the quivering heap, and it yips once before scuttling backwards out of bite-range. “When a bear tells you to stand, you stand,”

\tEventually the urchin pulls itself to its feet. Bathed in orange glow, the pointed features of an arctic fox shine in firelight, flickering hues playing across its white winter coat. Sigurd raises its chin with a claw. “Sing to us, cub. Sing—or you’re supper. And make it a good one, or we’ll take what’s…” he lets his gaze fall towards the crotch. “—here on offer…”

\tHrafn and Orik exchange lewd grins. The kit flushes red, tail uncurling to recover some modesty. Sigurd won’t let him go, of course. Winter’s long, and we’ve to eat sooner or later. One day the Alpha will lose interest in his pet—and then it’ll be roast cur on the menu with hot blood to follow. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.\t

\tFor a moment there’s silence; broken by the occasional muffled sob to escape his muzzle—dry, heaving gasps shaking that matchstick frame. Reddened eyes fix on each of us in turn; misted in a film of tears. Jaws open and shut, grasping for words far out of reach. Orik’s cough nearly has him jump out of his fur, tail a-frizz as he makes his first sound of the evening—a strangled yelp.

\t“Good start,” someone says. Chuckles all around… The voice is familiar. Was it me?

\tStrangely enough, it has the desired effect. Whines and snuffling subside; turn into words—so soft that we must strain our ears to catch them; like fleeting smoke. “We…” A bony chest hitches.  He exhales; tries again. “We called it—


\t“Tarry Town,” she glanced about. “I’ve never seen it up close. It’s beautiful!”

\t“Only at night,”

\t“Come again?”

\t“All of this,” I gestured at the lights and music. “Only starts at night. By morning, it’s just a ruin,”

\t“Yeah, right,”

\t“I’m serious! Ask anyone!”

\t“Whatever. Are we going inside or not?” Alora shouldered past me through the gates. Girls…

\tSomething tugged my arm. “Tod; don’t go in there. It’s bad. Please,”

\t“I have to, Cody. Mom’s sick. She hasn’t eaten all day. We have to scrounge something,”

\t“Junkyard,” he toyed with the loose collar round his neck. “Someplace else…!”

\t“We tried the junkyard, Cody,” I pried him loose. “Tarry Town’s loaded! We’ll be home in no time. Promise,”

\t“Pinky-swear?”

\t“Pinky-swear,” I locked claws with the little coyote hybrid, tousling his fur. “Trust me. Now let’s go see what ‘Lora’s up to before she does somethin’ stupid. Again,”

\t“I heard that!” I rolled my eyes. Cody giggled.

\tWe snuck past the iron gates. Tarry Town’s like a maze—winding streets everywhere, with flashing signs and bright lights. I let Alora lead, making sure my paw stayed on Cody’s shoulder as we rummaged through the scrap-heaps. No sense getting lost…

\tAll the stories were true. It was a gold mine! Alora scored a box of hardtack. Cody found three coppers—three!—lying in a gutter. “We’ll go soon as I get something. Almost time,”

\t“Go?! Are you crazy? There must be heaps more stuff left!”

\t“Place closes at dawn, ‘Lora. I don’t care if Shar’s treasure’s down here; I’m leaving way before then,” I dug through a promising pile of boxes. Nothing.

\t“Who shuts it? And what’s making all those lights?”

\t“How’d I know? It opens at night, shuts at dawn, and there’s stuff to take. Good enough for me,” This crate. No, that one… I caught a whiff —apples. They’d make a change mixed with gruel. Pine-bark gets boring after a while. And speaking of ‘whiles’…  “What’s the time? How long till morning?”

\t“Not for ages—stop worrying!” Alora flourished a cloak. “How’d I look?”

\t“Terrible. Stop fooling and help me!” I chucked a can at her.

\tShe flung it back—

\tAnd soon enough there’s a trash-war in full fling; cans and bottles whizzing through the air. I ducked a carton, diving into a pile of oily papers. The scents! The tastes—food wrappers, some still with leftovers in them! The aroma of grease was mingled with something familiar. Meat—real meat! Not seal, but good nonetheless.

\tBut first things first…

\tI crept round the piles; padding softly through them in search of Alora’s scent, finding her facing the wrong direction. Perfect.

\t“Tod, what—”

\t“Shh!” I clapped a paw around the seven-year-old’s muzzle, flicking an ear at Alora. Cody got the message, grinned and nodded. “On three—One, Two…”

\tWe leapt from hiding; from different directions. Alora never stood a chance. The wolf shrieked laughter as we made contact, fur on fur—ticklish, was she? Even better…  

\tShe bucked, rolled, and I found myself flat on my back, yellow eyes boring into mine. “My turn,”

\tI squirmed as the tickling began. Something warm and wet slunk across my side. “No fair using tongues!”

\t“All’s fair in war,” Claws plucked a wrapper free. “You’re delicious, Tod,”  

\tShe went back to licking; starting at the throat and working down to chest, to belly, to—

\t“Not there!” that lingering touch made me stiffen all over. “Settled!”

\tAlorna laughed, scrambling to her feet. “Wimp,”

\t“Bear,” I snapped back, preening fur into place. She stuck her tongue out at me.

\t“Tod! Look what I found!” Cody ran to meet me, flinging sticky arms about my neck. That smell!

\t“You found honey?” No mistaking that taste.

\t“There’s more! Over here!” he caught hold of my paw and I let him lead me through lanes and streets, to—

\tA whole pile of the stuff; still in glass jars! The bears’ll pay a fortune for this! And Mom could use a lick or two…

\tAlora came to join us. “You’d think there’d be more kids here—place isn’t that hard to find,”

\tI picked one of the bigger jars, hugged it to my chest. “C’mon, let’s go.”

\t“There’s still—oh,” Alora paused, gazing skyward. I followed her gaze to where a red disc was slowing rising from the east. “No…”

\tEvery single light in Tarry Town went out.

\t“Run!”

\tLeft. Right. Another right…had we wandered that far? Gates loomed at last—still open wide. “We made it!”\t

\tAlora sprinted through, skidded to a stop. I nearly ran into her. “What’s your problem?”

\tShe just pointed. The gravel path we’d used earlier was gone; churning waves cutting us off from the mainland. I tested the waters with a paw. Cold—ice cold… “How deep is it?” I’d risk frostbite if it meant we could wade across. I took a step, then another; feeling the reassuring crunch of silt beneath my pads. The water kept on rising higher and higher, sea-floor sloping downward…

\tThe swell came without warning and swept me off my feet. Salt stung my eyes, strong currents forcing me further away from shore. Something caught hold of me and I struggled.

\t“Idiot—it’s only me,” Alora treaded water at my side, an arm round my waist. Somehow or other, we managed to make it back. She shook herself dry all over me. “That answer your question?”

\t“I guess,” Stupid to think anyone could swim that distance. “Thanks,”

\t“Do that again and I’m not saving you,” her fangs chattered. “You could be more grateful, y’know,”

\tI wrapped my arms around her, sharing warmth as we waited for sodden fur to dry. Her limbs and fingers sent little stabs of ice where they dug into my pelt. “How’s this?”

\t“It’s a start,” she snuggled against me, and I laid my head on her shoulder. It was a while before any of us said anything.  “The shoal path returns at night, doesn’t it? We’ll wait till then,”

\t“They say monsters come out at dawn.” I looked at the mainland; under an hour’s walk on foot. An impossible distance…

\t“Wonderful,”

\tA sound! Close—too close… “Hide!”

\t“Where?”

\t“Anywhere!” The ground shook all around us. “Siege golem,”

\t“They aren’t real!”

\t“Tell that to him!” we barely ducked the swipe of that monster claw, stranded in its floodlights. Alora hurled an apple at it. It simply bounced off the golem’s shiny ‘head’. “Not helping!”

\t“You do something, then!”

\tI threw without thinking. A honey jar went up in a lazy arc and shattered against metal plating, its contents oozing out over the machine. It took a step—and froze; pincers in mid-grab an inch from my nose. The glow died from its eyes.

\t“Tod, you’re a genius!”

\t“Thank me later. Split up!” I snagged Cody’s collar, yanking him along. “It can’t chase us all at once!”

\t“Chase us?” Alora kicked it where the shin should be. “It’s dead—”

\tHer howl echoed behind me as we raced for cover. I didn’t turn back.

\tSomehow, it was like they knew where we’d go. Golems stalked right and left. I didn’t see Alora with any of them. Maybe she’d gotten away. Maybe…

\tIt was nearing high-sun when we reached the center of town; an open square with a tall spire in the middle. How long could we hold out? Another hour? Two? Cody buried his nose in my fur. “It’s alright. If they come, I’ll distract them and—”

\tHe glanced up. “They won’t come,”

\t“What do you—”

\t“Not till they’re called,” the coyote flicked at his collar, and I saw something I’d never noticed before—a small light flashing at its center. “Sorry, Tod—I had to!”

\tWhirring gears… They came from nowhere, blocking all exits. “You distracted us with the honey,”

\tHe flinched. “I warned you …”

\tLights flooded the square, and I got my first look at the spire. It was moving—a living tower of tortured flesh. Cubs struggled and thrashed in vain against the clear tubes connecting them to its walls, stark against bare skin. They’d been shorn of fur; turned into living pincushions.

\t“Tarry Town needs power, Tod. They used their own long ago…”

\t Wolves and foxes at the bottom; kids our age. A gradual shift moving higher—kittens, weasels…humans. The ones on top weren’t moving as much. Some weren’t moving at all.

\t“It’s you or me, Tod…”

\tMy back came up against something smooth; solid—the tower wall.

\t“Don’t fight and it won’t hurt too much—”

\tCody trailed off, eyes wide with shock. A paw grasped his wrist. I turn and there’s Alora—captive, furless, tubes lodged in naked flesh. She’s managed to catch him by surprise, but not for long. “Tod, run!”

\tWhere? Already the coyote was pulling himself free…

\tThen a second arm! And another! They latched onto Cody, drawing him towards them; against the wall. He yowled as the first needles descended—Tarry Town’s newest victim.

\t“Run,” Alora gave a final twitch and went limp. But the tower echoed her; a beast of many voices—

Run. Run .Run…

Useless—nowhere to go. One of the golems stomped over; claws outstretched. I shut my eyes.

But there’s no pain at all—only the faintest brush of leather at the throat…and I knew; knew even as I reached to confirm it, that my paw would find a dangling collar.

The golems were gone. Sunset was orange in the sky. The game was over.

For now…


 \tA chill wind carries the last notes of story-song into the distance. All around me my comrades stir; roused from some trance-like state. Sigurd yawns, displaying a maw of razor fangs. “Hmph—fairy tales,”

\t“What’d you expect—a war saga?”

\tI tune out their mutterings, tossing new twigs on the fire. Strangely enough; the kid’s still here, sitting quietly with tail curled round his knees. Guess he isn’t as smart as I thought—should’ve scarpered when he’d the chance. Too late now… I inch closer. He turns round.

\t“Will you let me go?”

\t“Probably not,”

\t“Didn’t think so,”

\tWe stay for a while staring at the fire; a curious pair—sprawled with head on my paws and a helot pup nestled against my side. Something jangles as he shifts into a more comfortable position beside me, and I turn just in time to see his collar gleam. Was that a spark, or just reflected firelight? His eyes are fathomless pools. There’s a faint noise from outside—a whirr, a clank? No, just the wind…

\tBut I think I’ll keep one eye open all the same.

\tJust in case.

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