[SOLO] What it Means (Half Truth and Changes)[Fin]

[Scaramouche Fandango]

Half Truth jolted awake, eyes wide in alarm. Something was burrowing against her side, and she had no idea- oh. Right. Stretching her neck and looking at the source of the feeling, she saw a tiny blue muzzle pressing into her flank. Changes. The kid was awake again, and though the sliver of moonlight made it difficult to see, she could smell the panic on him. Did he ever sleep through the night? She thought this would be easy. She thought it would be fun, being a mother- a little friend to hunt with, to play with, to joke with, to teach. Sometimes, it was fun. Changes was a quick learner and a perfect straight man for her jokes. His wide-eyed innocence and believing nature was wonderful; his little laugh and that tiny swell of his chest when he got a joke was even better. The kid was great- most of the time. But times like now, when he hadn’t let her sleep the night through for ages- well, she had to wonder what was wrong. Was something wrong with him? With her? With both of them? Why couldn’t he sleep? Surely he was old enough that he knew how to sleep? Groaning and yawning, she rolled over, waking up her pillow. Weird Dog chuffed and grunted and waddled off- an annoyance in and of itself. Half Truth shook her head, and blinked groggily. “What do you want, kid?” she asked, trying not to be gruff. “It’s really late.” Really, really late, she thought, as clouds lazily shifted over the moon.

But there came no response, merely a shiver as Changes shuddered into his adoptive mother’s side. The little acha had been woken up by a nightmare- he’d been having them ever since he’d left the Mother’s Club. He’d been told how excited he should be to have a new family; he’d been so excited to prance off at Half Truth’s side. The doe really was kind to him; she was teaching him how to hunt and how to fish and how to play games. He was still having a hard time thinking of her as a mother, though. He didn’t really know what that meant and he wasn’t even sure how to go about thinking of it. But right now, his biggest problem was the nightmares. They’d started a few nights before; nightmares about shifting and changing and losing control. They’d start with him standing there, then something would stretch- one leg, or his tail, or his face. He’d feel boiling and roiling beneath his flesh, the ache of his muscles ripping away from his bones as they warped. He’d wake up, and it would be dark. It would always, always be dark. He wasn’t fond of the dark, either. Tiny heart hammering in his chest, he’d wake up Half Truth, who always told him the same thing- that it was ok and that he should go back to sleep. But sleep rarely came, and he’d lie awake, too afraid to shut his eyes again. If sleep did come, it was only as the result of exhaustion. He nuzzled further into Half Truth, wanting very much for her to really comfort him but not knowing how to ask- or even that he should.

Normally, she’d just tell him to go back to bed, but as the clouds passed away from the moon, she could see the tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. She was immediately struck by the misery in his face, and she felt a pang in her stomach. Poor kid was out of his wits about something. This wasn’t just the boy being restless; something was deeply wrong. “Hey, kid,” she said softly, drawing him in with a leg. “You haven’t been sleeping at all. Something’s wrong. You wanna tell me about it?”

Changes shook his head, not wanting to break his silence. He knew his voice would betray him, and he wanted to appear strong. Half Truth was strong- she was always joking and laughing and never seemed scared of anything. He didn’t want to actually cry in front of her. He leaned into her and rested his head on her back, not wanting to meet her gaze.

Half Truth’s face fell as the kid didn’t tell her what was wrong. What was she doing? She knew that you were supposed to be able to tell your parents your troubles, but sometimes it seemed like Changes was afraid of her. She felt his pulse pounding against her side- she knew fear when she felt it. She nuzzled him under the chin, lifting his head so that she could meet his gaze. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to guess. You’re scared of something. You don’t have to say it out loud, but if I guess right, can you nod your head?”

Silently, he nodded.

“Are you scared of going to sleep?”

Nod.

“Are you scared of the dark?”

Nod.

“Is that it? I can get some glowing fungus to spread around if you want.”

Shake.

“No? Are you scared of Weird Dog or Rhetorical Question?” She didn’t know what would happen if this answer was a nod.

An emphatic shake. If anything, Half Truth’s pets were weird, but reassuring.

She didn't want to ask, but it was necessary. If it was... well, she had to know.“Are you scared of… are you scared of me?” She dreaded the question, but it had to be asked.

Another emphatic shake. Silently, both of them breathed a sigh of relief. That was out of the way, then.

“Is… is it something in your dreams?”

The tiniest nod.

“Are you having nightmares?”

Another tiny nod.

Nightmares. Bad dreams. Poor thing. “Aww, kiddo. You know, everybody has nightmares. Sometimes our dreams are good, but sometimes they are bad. Sometimes you see some scary stuff in them, and that’s normal. But it’s just a dream, kiddo. It’s just something you see and it’s not really happening. It’s ok.” Was this reassuring? Was this scaring him more? She really had no idea what to say in this situation or how to say it. His eyes were wide. Damn. She wasn’t helping. “It’s ok to be scared sometimes. Even I’m scared sometimes,” she babbled, wishing somebody else was there to help. How did parents learn how to parent? Was it instinctive? Why was she so bad at this? She gazed at the kid’s face as he trembled. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you, other than that it’s all gonna be ok and that you don’t have to be afraid of things you see in dreams. It’s… you’ll be ok, kid.” She nuzzled his head and ruffled his short blue fur. “Must be tough for you, huh,” she said, pulling him in closer. “Being taken away from everything you’ve ever known to go live in a new place with a new family. And it's just me and a caiman and a wasp. I know it's... strange. But I want you to know that it's ok for it to be strange. It's ok for you to not be sure about everything- I know I act all tough, but even I have nightmares. You don't ever have to be ashamed of anything in front of me. I know I’m not much, but I think we’re a good team. We could be more, I think. It’s- it’s gonna take work, but we could be a real family.” She looked back down at Changes and realized that the shudders against her side had gotten steady. The little acha was breathing steadily and his eyes were shut as he slept cradled against her. She couldn’t help but smile. Even though she didn't really know what to say, the sound of her voice had lulled him to sleep. Or something. He was such a sweet boy. A good child. Her child. Gently, she tucked his forelegs beneath him and curled around him.

"Good night, kiddo. I mean. Good night... son."

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[Scaramouche Fandango]

“But I’m booooored,” the foal whined. He laid on his back and pawed at the air. The trees above protected the kin from the worst of the rain, but they were still both soaked to the bone and very little could actually be done at the moment. They couldn’t go out and play; the pelting rain stung and splashed into their eyes. They couldn’t run around or successfully hunt or even fish- fish were activeafter the rain, not during. There was little for a little acha to do, other than bother his family. Unfortunately, caimans and wasps were rather good at being decidedly unplayful. Rhetorical Question was huddled up in the tree, asleep; Weird Dog was out in the water, submerged up to her nostrils.

Half Truth groaned quietly. She wasn’t taking a nap after all; the kiddo was pretty prohibitive of sleeping. She understood, though. Being stuck under shelter was boring, but the rain was too hard to be enjoyable. “I get it kiddo, but maybe you could wh- oh come on, don’t give me that look, that’s cheating!” She couldn’t resist those big green eyes when he was pouting. “Tell you what. Let’s play a game!” She racked her brain for a game the two of them could play that didn’t require them going out in the rain.

Changes’s ears flicked to attention. A game? Games he could do. He liked games. “What kind of game? Is it a good game? I want to play a fun game!”

“I have a game. It’s… it should be fun. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna say the first two lines of a poem. Then you’ll say the next two, then I’ll do the next two and so on and so on. We’ll make up a poem together. It’ll be fun!” She nodded her head and smiled, teeth showing. She wasn’t sure how much more whining she could stand.

“Do we gotta rhyme the poem? Or can we use free verse?” He was standing now, stretching and looking down at Half Truth, who was still curled on the ground where she’d been trying to nap.

She found herself chuckling a little- she’d found out about acha poetry from a friend, wanting to teach Changes a little bit about his kind’s traditions. She’d learned of the dances and the songs and the poetry, and he’d loved the poetry so much. She found herself loving it, too- they both had a knack for coming up with it. “Free verse is too easy. Game's over if somebody can't make a rhyme, after all. Let’s do a standard one two, one two eight couplet verse, but no syllable limit. Whatever sounds good to you. Think you can handle that?” she said with a grin.

Changes matched Half Truth’s toothy grin with his own. He stuck out his chest, adopting the swagger he always displayed when challenged. “I can if you can! But I wanna start!”

She nodded, laughing quietly. “All right, then! Go for it, kiddo.”

Clearing his throat, Changes thought for a moment, then began.
“Silver birds and golden snakes,
Seeking nothing, finding something.”

“See the form the creatures take,
Idealized and right for one thing,” she retorted. Something, that was a tough one. Was “one thing” cheating? She’d thought about using “nothing” and constructing with something-nothing to mirror the first two lines. It worked, though.

“Creeping through the damp and dank,
Thoughtless, wordless, careless, cautious.” He looked up at her with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“I see what you’re doing, and you’re not going to get away with it,” she teased. There was no way this kid was going to outrhyme her!
“Climbing up the river’s bank,
Wisely making homes in mosses.”

“From the lowliest of beasts,
To golden snakes and birds of silver,” he challenged. Silver might be a game-ender, but this was a challenge.

“Aha! You’ve fallen into my trap!” she crowed. “I knew silver was going to work its way back in, you little rascal!” She reached over and ruffled the fur atop his head, between where his nubby horns grew, barely aware that she'd just unironically called somebody a little rascal.
“All adore their homes and feasts,
From the eagle to the elver.”

“Aww, come on!” he said in mock anger. “Elver? What’s an elver? You made that up, you can’t make words up!”

“Sorry, kiddo. Elvers are baby eels. They’re a real thing. Would I lie to you?” She wouldn’t, and that was the whole truth. She had a policy of being honest with the kid, as honest as it was healthy to be. Some things she’d shield him from if ever he asked, but she never made things up. If she didn’t know the answer, she’d tell him and they’d go look for it together. It was pretty fun sometimes- it had led to a great deal of exploration and wonder for the both of them.

Changes heaved an overly dramatic sigh and thought for a bit before tossing out a couplet.
“Comfort, kin, and company-
Perhaps it is deliberate,” he said in response, carefully enunciating de-lib-er-ate to make the syllables match up. He’d file away “elver” to remember for later.

“These things we seek hungrily-
We and beasts are not so different,” she said. It sounded like a solid end for the poem. She nodded at Changes, who nodded back, then burst into a smile.

“That was fun!” he squeaked, eyes sparkling. “It seemed longer than sixteen lines.”

“Well, it was a collaboration. And we did it on the fly, without really thinking about it,” Half Truth mused, looking out at the rain. It had gotten much lighter than it had been when they’d started playing, the huge drops shrinking and slowing.

“But it still made sense! It was a pretty good poem!”

He was so proud of what they’d done, and she had to agree. It wasn’t going to win any composition contests anytime soon, but they’d done it together- and to be honest, she’d coo over any of Changes’s creative efforts. Truth be told, the most beautiful thing he’d ever create was the way he smiled when he finished something. She’d do as many goofy little poetry games as there were stars in the sky if it meant that he’d be happy. She was proud of her kiddo.

“It sure was, buddy- and hey, the rain’s let up a bit! Want to go out? I can show you how to find buried mussels if you want.”

“Yeah!” he said, scrambling towards the water. “Come on! Show me, show me!” He danced back, tugging at her fur. “Come on, Mom!”

The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur. Half Truth was sure that she’d shown him how to find mussels by looking for tiny air bubbles, and she was sure he’d enjoyed it- but it wasn’t until later that she was really sure she’d heard him right and that he’d really called her mom. She… she could get used to that. Mom.
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[Scaramouche Fandango]

Changes had been so excited to go meet the traders, because it was a very big day for him. He’d been very responsible as of late, because while his mom’s pets were nice in their own way, he wanted a little friend of his very own. And his mom had promised that he could have one! And he knew just what he wanted.

Half Truth’s stomach was writhing. She’d always considered herself to be tough,- she wasn’t afraid of much. Spiders were fine, wasps were fine, but this? This might be her limit. There was a worm in front of her- a giant worm- and it looked absolutely toxic. Her child was also in front of her, his hooves draped over the blind, writhing thing, and she wondered where she’d gone wrong. How had she failed as a mother so badly that her child wanted to take this horribly disgusting-looking thing home? Had he been hypnotized by its patterns? Surely no son of hers would actively want that… thing.

“But MOM, he’s already bonded with me!” Changes’s wail brought her back to reality.

“Sweetie, I don’t think cave worms bond like that.” Please please please tell me they don’t.

“Nuh-huh, this one’s special! This one loves me!”

Half Truth shook her head, “What about a nice songbird? Or a frog? All kids like frogs!”

The look on his face clearly demonstrated that no, not all kids liked frogs.

“A sweet sand dog? Or maybe a big tortoise! You could cuddle with a tortoise, certainly- they get so big! Or an eaglehound- wouldn’t you like a nice eaglehound to sleep next to?”

Apparently, he did not.

“What about a lynx? Or an owlcat? Or a foxbun?”

Was- were those tears he was holding back? Was he going to cry? His grip around the cave worm tightened. “Oh please please please please please please please pleeeeeeease?”

Half Truth didn’t want the worm anywhere near her or Changes. It looked like death, it smelled funny, its mandibles made a weird clicking noise- but oh no he was pulling the face, and besides- she did promise. She’d promised he could have a pet and he’d worked so hard and it wouldn’t be fair at all to deny him what he’d strived for. This was what he wanted, so this was what he was going to get. “Ok, but- look, you have to take care of it. I’ll help you get food for it, but you have to find out what it-“

“It eats carrion!” The sad eyes disappeared immediately- she knew she’d been played, but she did so love to see him thrilled. “They live in caves and help keep them clean and-”

“Where did you learn this stuff?” she butted in, almost wondering if she was really considering letting her son bring home a giant flesh-eating worm.

“When we went and traded with that group of Zikwa- one of their kids told me all about them!”

Heaving a bemused sigh, Half Truth rolled her eyes and shook her head, smiling. Of course the kid had done his research; he’d been thinking about this for a long time and then waited until the opportunity to best convince her arose. He was her kid, after all- if he hadn’t been a schemer, she’d be surprised. When she looked at it again, it really was rather pretty. She could… hell, her kid loved this thing. She could learn to love it, too. “All right, kiddo. What are you going to call it?”

“I love you!”

“Aww, that’s- I love you too, kiddo.” Half Truth smiled- it was amazing, the power those three little words had.

“No, I mean that’s its name. I’m gonna call it I Love You!”

So this was how it was going to be…

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[Scaramouche Fandango]

He'd gotten so big. How had she not noticed? Just yesterday he'd been headbutting everything in sight, complaining about his horns coming through- and now he was taller than she was. Gangly, still- he'd fill out eventually, but for now his knees were knobbier than they should be- and his ears seemed too big, they'd always seemed too big. He was taller than she was by almost a head- they grew them tall in the desert, though his horns played a huge role in that.

Where had the time gone? She'd been so busy with this whole family business, she'd forgotten to pay attention to the time. It was amazing, really, looking at him. She'd gotten into this unsure of what she really wanted, unsure of where she belonged- but things had for once in her life, really fallen into place. This made sense to her. The traditional notion of family had never really appealed to her, but then this wasn't a traditional family in any sense of the word. This was a family she'd created, hewn out of loss and loneliness; this was her family, and she'd worked hard for it. A little smile played across her lips. This was the happy ending, wasn't it? A strapping son, a beautiful love, a family that cared.

It hadn't been easy... but it had been worth it. This was what it all meant, really- this was what she'd been missing for so long.

This was where she belonged.

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