Sticky looked at the two mittens he had managed to pilfer from the crazy person’s bag and hated himself. Not only were mittens worthless, but they also weren’t even good mittens. The stitching was horrible, and bits of the grey fur was missing.
‘Why the hell did I do this?’ He wondered in abject misery. Cursing his uncontrollable instinct to steal, he tried to figure out a way to put the mittens back in the guy’s bag without him noticing.
Although the very idea of un-stealing something didn’t sit well with him. Returning something he had already stolen went against every fibre of his being.
But every time he looked back at the crazy person covered in blood and remembered the vice grip he had on Sticky’s hand; he was reminded of just how vital it was for him to return these stupid mittens.
Blissfully unaware of his guide’s conundrum, Will reached over and tapped him on the shoulder, causing the stocky man to flinch away awkwardly.
Will understood that he must look quite strange at the moment and didn’t hold it against the man, and just continued to ask what he was already planning to. “Where are you leading me?”
Sticky had led Will through a ruined house and out into an alley that wound through the city in a tangled mess of inexplicable turns that led to nowhere. Occasionally, Sticky would lead him through a collapsed wall or into a half-fallen building when the alley was blocked with rubble.
The thief was doing his very best to keep Will away from other people that might reveal his less-than-stellar reputation, while also looking for an excuse to return the mittens.
Somewhat distracted, Stick responded absentmindedly, “Oh, I was going to take you to Stella’s Inn. Most travellers go there, and you should be able to get whatever information you need,”
Will smiled, revealing insanely long canines that made Sticky shiver uncontrollably. ‘Is this guy even human?’ he wondered in horror.
Realising his slip-up, Will closed his mouth and tried his best to pretend that nothing had happened. Since if Sticky felt like asking him about those teeth, he would be screwed.
“Are there many people around Stella’s at this time of day?” Will asked, doing his best to shift the other man’s attention.
Still uneasy, Sticky nodded in affirmation, “Yeah, not a lot of people work day jobs anymore. Since the mayor’s house got flattened by a falling tree, there’s no real leader in this place. For the most part, everyone spends their time drinking and reminiscing.” Sticky said slowly, “Although there are a few crazy people that go hunt the beasts” he added.
“Beasts? What beasts?” Will asked, not remembering seeing anything like that on his way here.
Sticky looked at him like he was an alien and sighed, “You know, the animals that got super big since the ‘First impact’ as you called it. I suppose they aren’t beasts to someone like you. But to me, any animal that could kill me is a beast and that is how most people think,”
“I see,” Will said slowly, “But why would anyone hunt these ‘Beasts’ if it's so dangerous?” He asked poignantly.
“It’s their flesh, when you eat the flesh of a beast, you grow stronger and more robust, even if only a little bit.” Sticky said excitedly, leaning in close to Will before continuing to speak, “Apparently, the heart of a beast is especially potent, it can make a grown man almost twice as strong if they only eat them for a couple of weeks,”
Will’s eyes widened and he realised he had been quite stupid for eating jerky this whole time. When it was spelt out like this, it was obvious. He had even seen how the fox grew stronger after eating the bear first-hand.
“Is there some sort of currency that people trade with, I doubt hunters just give away the meat they risked their lives to get,” Will said.
“Of course, they don’t, stingy bastards, they only accept trades, stuff like weapons, armour, well-made clothing and maps are all super valuable. There are even rumours that some people have figured out how to make medicine from the strange herbs that began to grow after the first impact. That stuff is super potent and valuable. Although I have heard about various… side-effects of the medicines,”
“I guess it makes sense that plants would grow stronger along with animals,” Will added.
“Yeah exactly,” Sticky mumbled, trying to slow down his walking pace so that Will would overtake him. Sure enough, Will walked past him and Sticky sped up again, keeping pace just behind Will.
After a moment of walking in silence, Sticky steeled himself and slid the mittens out from a pouch sewn into the lining of his jacket and threw them at Will’s feet.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Hey, you dropp—” Sticky froze, the little fox he had almost completely forgotten about was staring right at him. Its blue eyes bore holes into him. It had seen the whole thing
“What’s up?” Will turned around, noticing the mittens on the floor. “Oh, did I drop those, my bad,” He bent down, picking them and stuffing them back into his back in one fluid motion.
While this was happening, Sticky was staring at the little fox pleadingly, his big innocent eyes working to their fullest effect, trying to convince the fox not to turn him in.
The little fox opened its mouth to let out a sound and Sticky panicked, his hands flying through all the hidden pockets in his coat, desperately trying to find something to distract the fox.
As he cursed himself for having too many pockets, Sticky grabbed A brown sweet made from sugar and tree sap that he had been saving for weeks. Grimacing, he chucked the sweet at the little fox and watched glumly as it caught it in its mouth.
While it ate the sweet, the fox closed its eyes happily and looked the other way, no longer threatening to expose Sticky’s suspicious antics.
By this point, Sticky couldn’t wait for this journey to end, and he sped up once again, almost running the final stretch of the way to Stella’s.
When they arrived, Sticky refused to leave the alley, before saying he had a pressing matter and running away.
“Weird guy,” Will commented when the other man had left.
“Yip” the fox agreed, remembering the man’s face when he had handed it the sweet, its eyes glittered with mirth.
“Well, shall we head in?” Will asked, feeling unusually nervous. It was only now that he saw the bar, did he realise he had never been in one before. His village had only had one pub and you could only enter after turning fifteen. Something which Will had done very recently.
It felt strange to be anxious about something so comparatively simple, but he had never had a good impression of bars and drinking, to begin with. It brought back a lot of unhappy memories.
Stella’s was a stout slab of brick and mortar and most importantly, it was underground. Stairs led down from the cobbled street where a ragged sign that Will suspected was supposed to read Stella's Bar but instead said
S—l-as -ar due to the numerous missing letters, was crookedly swaying on one pin.
The portion of the bar that was above ground was a wreck, a lamppost having fallen into its door and smashed a hole in the wall. But the portion below ground was still intact, having mostly avoided the effects of the storm.
When he pushed open the door, a wave of heat and noise washed over him. The bar wasn’t rowdy or anything, in fact, the atmosphere was rather sombre, but to Will, who hadn’t seen another person in two months, it was a veritable circus.
A couple of people looked up at him from their tables, registering looks of shock and surprise when they saw his ragged clothes and his little furry companion. But that was all, nobody came over to bother him or shouted at him.
It was rather anticlimactic as far as Will was concerned. From his experience, most drunks were loud and violent, but most of these people looked like they were in mourning.
“Hey kid,” A harsh voice sounded out from the other side of the bar.
Following the sound, Will’s gaze stopped on an elderly lady, presumably Stella, who was pointing at him. She wore a stained apron and held a glass in one hand, cleaning it with practised ease.
Will awkwardly walked over through the bar, feeling wildly out of place compared to the grizzled and unshaven men that filled the place.
“Hi…” Will said uncomfortably, realising how stupid it sounded as he said it.
“How old are you wee man?” Stella asked, her accent thick and foreign, a pair of rounded spectacles and white hair tied back in a bun made her look strangely wise and motherly.
“I turned 15 just before the storm,” Will replied, eliciting a strange burst of cries from a few of the men in one corner of the bar. One of them even broke down sobbing.
“Shh, don’t mention the S-word in here lad,” Stella reprimanded, making Will feel strangely apologetic even though he hadn’t really done anything wrong. Somehow the old woman made him feel powerless, like he was a kid again and being scolded by his mother or teacher.
“How tall are you?” The woman asked, not bothering to look up from the glass she was cleaning.
“Pardon?” Will asked, confused by the line of questioning.
“Height lad, how tall are you?” Stella asked again.
“Oh, a little over 6 foot I think,” Will replied.
She looked up at him and tutted, “You’re all skin and bones. Tsk, I’ll get you some better clothes than what you have on,”
Will wanted to say tell the woman he didn’t need any clothes but before he had a chance to speak, she roared, “JOHNNY! I NEED CLOTHES FOR A TALL LAD, HE’S THIN AS A RAKE,”
Hiding his head in embarrassment, Will felt the eyes of everyone in the bar bore holes into his back.
Another voice roared back from further inside the bar, “ON IT!” This was Johnny and he had somehow managed to match Stella in volume.
Sitting at the bar in abject misery, Will waited for the laughter and mockery to come, but it never did. He had been expecting jeers and jokes at his expense from the bar’s patrons but the first thing he heard was a tall man in the corner speak up.
“I might have some spare shoes for the kid Stella, they aren’t new but it's better than what he has on,” The man said, his voice a low rumble.
“Could you grab those for me, I’ll buy your next drink,” Stella replied with a nod.
Wordlessly, the big man stood up and stooped to leave the bar, disappearing up the stairs to the street.
The second he left, the bar burst into a hubbub of noise, everyone offering to help Will out in some way or another. Some offered belts, others backpacks or knives. One rotund man with a bald head and rosy cheeks insisted he buy Will's dinner, handing Stella a box of matches as payment.
Overwhelmed by the show of kindness and generosity, Will didn't know how to react, he had been on his own for so long and although he had dealt with it well, he was still a kid after all. Helplessly, he started to cry, devolving into sobs, his body shaking as he wept.
The little fox nuzzled his leg affectionately, trying its best to cheer him up. An old leathery hand landed on his shoulder as Stella patted him.
“It’s okay kid, you can stay here from now on,” Stella said, only the way she said it, it sounded more like a command than an offer.
Will nodded helplessly, too embarrassed to look up at the woman.
After that, he couldn’t quite remember what happened. He was led to a bathtub full of steaming hot water before he was brought to a room full of children, some around his age and some even younger.
Too tired to even talk to them, he lay face first on an old battered pillow and slept like he had never slept before.