In keeping with the trend of the season, this was yet another “first” Look-see was about to experience. As much as Doom, Gloom and Look-See were purgers of the swamp, they were also collectors of stories and information. Much of their success depended on the knowledge they gained of the swamp’s vast terrain and outreaches. Here, dusk was setting and she entered a new area of light musk dominated by a cloying sweetness. Old wood and lilacs. Lowering her head to the ground, she inhaled. Still fresh memories rushed forward. White and purple like him. True to form, she staggered about this specific densely canopied area of the swamp. She had gotten quite adept at avoiding obvious obstacles by walking around but then there were the rocks, animals, roots that jutted out of the ground. Usually it was what she had stepped on that sent her careening nose first. A caiman took special offense to her stepping on its tail. Down she staggered; birds flew announcing her fall from grace. She cried out as the caiman thracked her on the head for good measure.
Fiend barreled out to see what was causing noise in his area. He saw the crouching doe and barked in assistance. Eaglehounds weren't meant to sound like Kimeti and vice versa; something funny sounding croaked out instead. Dread and shame were the fragrance he wore that evening. He immediately sprinted behind a small bush directly in front of the doe, calming his heartbeat. In his experience, everything that could go wrong, usually did. He had been spending so much time as an eaglehound and had got the transition down to a seamless change spanning one heartbeat, in the heat of the moment, he had simply forgotten what form he was in. Looking down, he noticed that only his lower body were hidden and yes, that third horn refused to let anyone take away its time to shine. Geeze, he even forgot how to hide properly. He stilled as a crystal clear called out.
"Who's there? Show yourself!"
Oh.My.MotherFather. Was she an idiot? He was right in front of her. She was staring right at him, no, through him, he corrected himself. Her eyes were odd. He twitched his ears ever so slightly. No response. He grimaced. Then he waved his head. Finally he stepped forward. Finally, she recoiled at the sound of a twig breaking under his weight. Her head bounced, first to look at where twig was then somewhere around his chest. MotherFather compensates. This doe had good hearing and range.
Kimeti. She tried to get up but faltered and buckled forward. She tried again for good measure and she fell down just as surely. Here she was feeling sorry for herself, and the caiman must have dislodged her flowers and turned her neat tresses into a tangled mess, and on top of that, she had a sprain. Isolating each muscle she flexed and in no time found the bane of her existence: frontal right hoof had an oh so slight sprain. Gingerly rocking to her feet she tested the pressure. No way. Well, seems like the three hooves dance it was. She hobbled away. She had an agenda.
Curiosity gave way to shock before it bowed to outrage. He looked around, knowing full well no one else would be here to help; it was why he had chosen it after all. He purposely unfurled himself from the shrub to admonish, “What do you think you are doing?! You have a sprain, you need to rest here.” He stepped better into the light to show off his magnificent monstrosity of moving bones and see-through body.
He expected her to flinch, cower away or recoil. Instead she stared at him dumbfounded. “No” she replied, stretching the single word into two syllables in irritation. Who was he?
He invaded her personal space and glared at her from the top. He was a head taller than most kimeti, and that was without counting his troublesome horn. Still, she slid past him. For all his worth, he wasn’t frightening to this injured doe. He tried to add harshness to his voice but as far as farces went, this one was pretty onenote. How embarrassing. He gave a small deprecating laugh. He couldn’t scare her into obedience or terror like others. They played this game of go forward to only bounce back, adding to Look-See’s ire and Fiend’s frustration.
Fiend’s mind worked like a big log full of loosely shifting ideas and concepts. He mostly understood dichotomy of things in pairs. A new piece sidled to the forefront of remembrance: she was hard of seeing. It was almost comedic in what fate brought but here they were, and so of assistance he shall be. A new friendship bloomed, and it was just as special for him as it was for the White Maiden. Especially because of the company she kept.
