Saturday, August 10, 2013
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The jeep scaled the rocky gradient, sending clouds of gravel and dirt in its wake. The sun glinted off its steel surface and bathed the mountainside with relentless heat. Intermittent trees provided moments of shade for the family of four, though the air conditioner was still a must. Gerald McLean flicked a few dust particles off his dashboard display and glanced at the temperature.
Ninety-two.
It was barely 10:05.
A rectangular green sign ahead indicated Lake Dorson was twelve miles away. The Braixen dad grinned at the thought of finally arriving… a verdant, expansive clearing… placid, azure lake perfect for fishing… miles from urban cacophony and smog.
Just the McLeans and four days of serenity.
“How’re you doin’ back there?” He peered at his two little Fennekins through the rearview mirror. His son, Terrence, stared out the window with half-lidded eyes and chin propped lazily on the backside of his paw.
“Fine.” He muttered with the enthusiasm of a limp sock.
His little sister, Nikki, was conked out to his left. The seat belt held her snug against the back of her booster seat. She wasn’t a baby, but still too light to be free from the extra protection. Dreams of her favorite cartoon characters danced about in her mind. It was a fleeting yet pleasant reality.
“Oh birthday giiiiiirl.” Her father sang in that voice he always used to wake her. “We’re almost theeeeere; time to wake uuuuuup.”
Her right ear twitched, but eyes remained closed.
“My babies,” mommy Braixen, Michelle, turned to look at them. “All tuckered out.”
“Not tired.” Terrence intoned with a bored yawn.
Gerald latched open the center compartment without taking his eyes off the road. “I know what’ll get you awake and excited.” His paw jostled objects around. Not that… not this… there! His fingers wrapped about the plastic tape and pulled it out. Terrence caught the familiar pink and yellow label in his periphery.
“Noooooo...” Terrence moaned and plopped his head against the door. “I hate that stupid-”
“Relax,” his mother said. “It’ll just be one song, we promise.”
“And it’s Nikki’s birthday.” His father added.
Terrence gave an indignant, open-palmed gesture. “She’s not even awake.”
His point went ignored as Gerald popped the tape into the player and hit ‘Play.’ A few seconds of silence served as prelude to the band’s opening chords. The bright, bubbly tones of a piano and acoustic guitar filled the jeep.
C-----E-----F-----G-----
Nikki’s eyelids lifted as though on cue. The familiar timbres serenaded her ears and brought a gleeful grin to her muzzle.
“WILEY!” She squealed. Riley was the titular character of Nikki’s favorite cartoon, Riley the Raccoon!. It was a little program following the adventures of a sweet, cartoon raccoon as she traveled around the world. It was educational, colorful, and free from drama. This song was Nikki’s favorite; she knew all the words thanks to the 6,037 times she listened to it every week.
“Busy, buzzy little bees!
Buzzing all around my knees!”
Nikki belted out the words in unfettered gusto. Her mother and father joined in, helping broaden the smile on their daughter’s face.
Terrence wanted a gun.
Images paraded about his mind in unrelenting annoyance. He’d rather listen to nails scratch a chalkboard. That stupid raccoon with her stupid pink nose and stupid pink ears and stupid bee costume and stupid smiling bees and stupid singing flowers. It was all stupid!
He growled and thrusted his paws into his ears as though it’d help. Wait… did his dad just turn up the volume a little?
He must’ve seen him suffering in the rearview mirror. He was doing this on purpose. So long as Nikki enjoyed herself; Terrence was just along for the ride.
“She always gets what she wants...it’s always about Nikki…” He thought.
The song ended after five eternities. Terrence pulled his paws from his ears, resulting in a bout of tinnitus.
“Pway it again! Pway it again!” Nikki squeaked; she’d leap from her seat if not for the restraining strap.
Terrence scowled. “Dad, can’t I pick next? I wanna listen to something else.”
His dad began rewinding the tape. “Well, it’s her birthday. I think one more time is fair.”
“But dad!”
“I’ll let you pick on the way home.” He cut him off. “This is Nikki’s special day.”
Terrence pounded a clenched fist into the side of his door. It silenced the others briefly.
His mom craned her head at him. He was staring out the window, arm raised against the side of his head. Was he trying to hide his frustration from her? She heard subtle growls under his breath.
“Aw you okay, Tewwy?” Nikki asked, confused and concerned. His father noticed him too.
“… You know what? I’m in the mood for a little silence instead. We’re almost there anyways.” He tapped his fingers lightly on the wheel.
His wife nodded. “Good idea.”
A few miles later, the jeep weaved its way into a clearing. There it was.
Lake Dorson.
-
The sky provided a spotless azure canvas. Distant pines lined the horizon as the McLeans ventured into the clearing. The lake’s presence was made apparent by the sparkling sunlight. The lines of light seemed to dance as the breeze toyed with the water’s surface. The thumping and bouncing of the tires resigned to a smooth roll as the dirt road evened out.
“Here we are.” Gerald announced, feeling relaxed just by the pulchritudinous scenery. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“This place sucks.” Terrence thought as he continued staring out the window. To his father, he simply said, “yeah.”
“I wanna go in da boat!” Nikki shouted gleefully. “Daddy can we go in da boat? I wanna see da duckies and fishies!”
“Yes, yes, of course!” He turned left onto another road leading to their campsite. “We’ll get all set up and then I’ll show my birthday girl aaaaaall the little fishies!”
Terrence rolled his eyes. “And you’ll forget I’m even here.”
His mother saw that. Side mirrors were useful that way.
The facilities at Lake Dorson were few. A welcome center, bathrooms, a shop where you could fulfill your fishing and camping needs, and a humble convenience store. Further away was a ranger station overlooking Lake Dorson and surrounding square miles of forest. Because this was a wild zone, precaution was needed to ensure the safety of all campers and feral creatures (sentient Non-Pokemon animals existed, but so did their wild counterparts).
As far as wild zones went, it was a “Level Blue” zone, the lowest tier. It meant the only wild animals here were small herbivores like mice, squirrels, rabbits, voles, etcetera. There was nothing that would cause significant harm, though you still had to beware of the errant mouse sneaking into your food. The McLeans brought peppermint repellent in case. “Level Green” zones included small-to-mid size omnivores such as weasels and raccoons. Yellow included larger herbivores and some carnivores, and Red included the most dangerous. Bears, lions, wolverines, etcetera. Federal regulations over the last hundred years mandated mass transportation of various ferals to designated zones to make camping and general enjoyment of nature safer.
Gerald reserved this spot weeks in advance, giving his family easy access to the lake. The jeep slowly rumbled to a stop in a small parking area not far from their campsite. He shut off the ignition and gazed out his window.
“Tents there… we can fish there… ooh, that’s a lovely spot for hiking… campfire there… and we’ll tell ghost stories… Terrence and Nikki love those…”
A playful punch to his shoulder from Michelle brought him back.
“Daydreaming again?”
The kids snickered and their dad laughed with them.
“So I am. Welp, let’s get set up!” He clapped his paws and unlocked the door. The others followed and hopped out. Terrence lethargically exited last and stretched his legs.
“Yay. Four days of boredom and no internet or friends.” He thought as he yawned.
His mother glanced at him as though she read his mind. A thin-mouthed scowl crossed her face.
Gerald got to work setting up both tents; he and Michelle in one and the kids in the other. He spared no expense getting top-of-the-line equipment. Emerson tents were spacious, easy to secure, woven with thick, weatherproof fabric, simple to clean and, best of all, had tops you could unzip. This feature was designed to help campers bask in the enchantment of relaxing under the stars. Sleeping bags were insulated and would keep them cozy through the coming nights. They’d hardly know only a couple inches separated their bodies from the cold soil.
Michelle prepared sandwiches, ham and Swiss on wheat with various toppings and spreads fitting her family’s individual preferences. There was also potato salad, coleslaw, potato chips, and assorted bite-size vegetable chunks for sides. Drinks included water, apple juice, grape juice, soda, and peach tea. For dinner, they’d enjoy whatever fish Gerald caught later. The walleye tacos he made last time hit the spot.
Nikki was eager to help. She was mostly motivated by the much-anticipated boat ride, but they adored her attitude. While her father pounded a tent peg into the ground, she put a paw on his knee the same way an importunate dog begs her owner.
“Can we go yet daddy? Pwease?”
He shook his head. “Not done yet, but soon. How about… you go play with your brother.”
Terrence busily pounded at another peg, though his noodle arms forged little progress. “But I’m helping.”
“I appreciate it, but I can take it from here. Go have fun with your sister.”
Nikki looked at him with hope-filled eyes. “We can pway hide-and-seek!”
“I don’t want to.” He protested, knowing it was a losing battle. There weren’t even good places to hide; it’d be the most boring game in all history. There was the forest, but mom and dad probably wouldn’t let them hide there. Hammering this peg was the more exciting and cathartic option.
“But Tewwy!”
His father sighed. “Terrence, come on. I brought us here so you could have fun and enjoy yourself.”
“You mean so Nikki could have fun. Nikki, Nikki, it’s all about Nikki.” Terrence fumed in his mind.
His father continued. “You should be playing right now. I appreciate the help, but I want you to enjoy the vacation. Four days will go by just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
The defeated Fennekin grumbled and threw the mallet to the ground. “Fine, whatever. It’s all what Nikki wants anyway.”
His mother stopped what she was doing, and his father’s expression morphed into that of subdued anger. Furrowed brow, the perked ears, the wisp of smoke that seeped from his down-turned mouth…
Terrence shrank. Ears drooped, eyes shifted away… instant regret. Perhaps his father will pummel him into the ground with that mallet.
Seconds of tense silence fogged the air between them before his father set the tool down. He stood with a grunt. “Terrence, come with me.”
-
The Braixen and Fennekin trudged along the shore. They didn’t stray far from the others, but were out of earshot. Nikki gazed their direction but didn’t follow. She knew this was none of her business.
The weight of his father’s silence was a burden. Tension mounted with each passing second of protracted quiet. Gerald stopped walking when they reached a bed of smooth rocks. He sat on one, scaring away a timid squirrel hiding in its shade.
“Here.” He gestured Terrence to sit beside him. No anger in his voice, but he wasn’t smiling. His son sulked and hopped onto the rock.
“Alright,” his father exhaled. “Talk to me. Why are you acting like this?”
Terrence fidgeted. “I-I’m sorry.” He answered, not wishing to be in the hot seat another second.
“Answer the question. Why are you being difficult? I brought us all here for a nice vacation and all you’ve done is complain the whole time.”
The smaller fox looked away nervously. It wouldn’t matter what he said; punishment would strike when he got home. It was worse that what he wanted to say was accusatory. He may as well say goodbye to his 3DS, computer privileges, and going to friends’ houses the rest of his life. It was all over.
His father was growing impatient for an answer. “Don’t make me-”
“Okay! Okay!” Terrence panicked. He rubbed the back of his head anxiously. “Uh...I, uh…”
His father put his paw on his shoulder. “Don’t be scared, just talk to me.”
Don’t be scared? Terrence had every reason to be scared! Incriminating your dad was a felony in all kid-dom. Nothing less than a life sentence. But… there was no way out. The frightened Fennekin spat it out.
“I-think, uh… you and m-mom…” His right paw clasped his left arm in agitation. “like Nikki more than me.” He clenched his eyes and awaited the guillotine.
Gerald was reticent as a slight scowl formed on his muzzle. The Braixen grunted. “Why do you think that?”
Why the question? Was the accusation not enough? The additional query was a shovel designed to dig Terrence’s grave deeper.
“I, uh… well…” Terrence rummaged through his list of reasons, though many fled upon his attempt to recollect them. It was simply the nature of arguments. “Nikki’s room’s bigger than mine and, uh, she got what she wanted for her birthday, but I didn’t get what I wanted for mine. Uh... y-you also played her favorite songs in the car more than mine. I hate that Riley song but you kept playing it.”
Chopin’s Funeral March played in his head. Terrence’s attacks constructed an ornate sepulcher with his name engraved over it. Now for the inevitable interment. His father looked up as his mouth twitched slightly.
Gerald met his eyes. “You really think we love your sister more than you?”
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Terrence shifted uncomfortably.
“We love you two equally. You both have a roof over your heads, beds to sleep in every night, a mom and dad who provide for you so you don’t go hungry. We go to your school plays and help you with your projects. Do you think I would’ve brought you along if we didn’t love you?”
A blip of boldness brushed Terrence’s mind. “But what about the things I said?”
His father remained patient. “Her room’s bigger because when we moved in, you wanted the room you’re in now. You were four. You may not remember, but you liked that room. We even told you the other room was bigger, but you insisted. So, we let you have it. As long as you were happy, we were happy. When Nikki came along, we just gave her the other room.”
Terrence’s shoulders slumped. The dusty memory reared its head upon its very mention.
“And about your birthday, your mom and I searched everywhere for that game you wanted, but it was always out of stock. What Nikki wanted was everywhere. That was just bad timing. Besides, you told us you still liked what we got you.”
Terrence remembered with a heavy sigh. You couldn’t go to any retailer lately without Riley’s bubbly grin and rosy cheeks assailing your eyes. Of course, the Blu-ray of her recent movie just had to come out close to Nikki’s birthday. The diabolical raccoon did it on purpose.
“As for playing music she likes, it’s her birthday. I can indulge her a little.”
“But that song’s annoying and I hate it.”
Gerald couldn’t resist a conceding nod. “She’ll outgrow it. It’s not my favorite either, but I wanted her to be happy. That’s more important than whether I like her choice of music or not.”
As if on cue, Nikki started belting out the song. Loud, high-pitched, no sense of tonality. Terrence groaned, but his father laughed.
“Like I promised earlier, we’ll let you pick the first song on the way home. Sound fair?”
Terrence nodded. “I guess… sorry I was being a butt-face. I’ll be more good.”
“Apology accepted.” His father gave him a small hug. “But don’t call yourself that again.”
They trotted back as Michelle finished building the last sandwich, her own. Mouths watered and empty stomachs grumbled as the bounty awaited them. They sat around the blanket on the warm grass and, after Gerald uttered a brief prayer of thanks, dug in. Though Terrence still wanted to play video games and watch movies than be here, lunch improved his mood. Perhaps a few days away from the comfort of concrete suburbia wouldn’t be so bad.
-
Click...
Click...
Click...
Chitter’s homepage loaded onto the widescreen monitor. An assortment of tabs and notification icons demanded Nicholas Rutger’s attention. Messages. Latest. Trending. News. Profile. A small, red graphic of a squirrel peered at him from its perch in the upper-left corner of the screen. Nothing fancy, just a silhouette superimposed against a dark background. Its features weren’t detailed, save for its eyes. They faced the Typhlosion, inviting him to peruse all the opinions and arguments he missed while asleep.
Not important now.
The pyro-mustelid leaned his head forward and left, and lifted one of the slats to his blinds. He squinted and gazed thirty-three stories down at the streets. Masses of people… shouts, signs, slogans… impossible to distinguish, but the crowds were a familiar sight by now.
More protesters than yesterday? Or the same? He couldn’t tell. Regardless, he was doing something about it. The cursor slid to the status window and he clicked. It widened, beckoning him to declare what was on his mind. Words flowed from his fingers and into the box with practiced fluidity.
“My fellow Revarians, I know our nation has fallen into troubled times, but these days are nearing their end. For each day that passes, my team is getting closer and closer to solving our present crisis. All we ask is you continue to do your part. Don’t give up hope. It’s inconvenient, but the sacrifice is worth it if we want normalcy again. God bless Revaria.”
With a confident smile, he clicked SUBMIT. As if on cue, there was a knock at his door.
“Your breakfast and coffee, sir.”
The Typhlosion tapped a button under his desk, causing the door to swing open. “Over there.” He gestured to a polished, marble table on his right to which the servant obediently marched. “The speech ready?”
“It shall be on your desk in ten minutes, sir.” The tuxedoed Sudowoodo answered, setting the aromatic array of coffee, pancakes, bacon, and eggs where instructed. “I apologize for the delay, Dennis informed me there were last-minute edits-”
“It’s fine.” Nicholas never turned his face from the screen. “I’ll call him.”
He dismissed the anthropomorphic tree and called Dennis. Before he could ask how the speech was coming along, the Grumpig on the other end interjected.
“THEY FOUND OHARA!” Dennis gave a high-pitched squeal, making Nicholas recoil. “Shebaton Caverns! Th-they’re right on his tail!”
The Typhlosion didn’t respond right away. A mirthful grin crept onto his face.
“S-sir?” Dennis asked.
“Hm? Yeah.” He chuckled. “Well, that’s great! Listen, I wanna know first thing when he’s caught.” His voice lowered. “… he’ll pay dearly…”
“I’ll call the moment Roark notifies me. But anyways, uh, need to finish editing-”
“Yep, of course. Make it good!”
He ended the call and set his phone down. He let out a satisfactory sigh as he put his computer to sleep. He got up and walked over to his waiting breakfast, grin still plastered onto his muzzle.
Today was going to be a great day. For him… his family… for Revaria…
For the world.
Justice would soon be served.
-
“Daddy! Daddy! Look at the fishies!” Nikki’s tail wagged as she darted from one side of the small boat to the other. The little fox found it hard to keep track of the fish once they swam under the keel, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying. She reached and tried to swipe at one, but her father put his arm before her so she wouldn’t fall overboard. His other hand held the fishing pole steady. Beside him was a bucket with water and the two fish already caught.
“I know, right?” He tousled her head fur. “How many more do you think I’ll catch?”
Nikki mulled over the biggest number in the world.
“...Fiddy!”
“Fifty and-a-half.” Terrence quipped, showing off that he remembered fractions from this past school year. He looked over the edge into the water, but his attention wasn’t on the fish. He fantasized about the existence of a water dungeon ensconced in those murky depths. A daydream emerged as he traversed a perilous map filled with snarling hydras, poisonous squids, and a forbidden treasure chest. He rested his head on his arm as he visited the merchant to buy the ancient water tunic and then-
“AAH!” He yelped as his father nudged his shoulder. “I-I didn’t do anyth-”
“’kay there, buddy? Looked like you were falling asleep.”
“Oh… uh, yeah. I was just, uh, thinking and stuff.”
Gerald observed how he continued to stare out into nothing, and it gave him an idea. “Say… how ‘bout I show you how to catch a fish?”
A bewildered look formed on Terrence’s face. It was like being asked to do homework.
“I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“I….” Couldn’t he just play his pretend game? It was the only way to make Lake Dorson exciting.
“How ‘bout you have to catch a fish so the…” Gerald pondered. “noble fish prince will give you the map that’ll help you locate the, uh, Ancient Lightning Rod… stick.” His tone turned serious. “You can’t beat Galbatron, the Dark Wizard, without it.”
Terrence laughed and accepted his offer. With as stern as his dad could be, he wasn’t above playing pretend. Gerald showed how to attach the bait, as well as how to cast the line. Terrence’s arms were too weak to cast it very far, so his dad helped.
“See, like this.” Gerald’s hands guided his son’s.
Nikki watched in fascination. “Can I catch fishies?”
“When you’re older. How many fishies do you think Terrence is going to catch?”
Nikki pondered. “… Fiddy!”
Gerald instructed Terrence to keep his eyes peeled for movement. They waited… and waited…
… and waited.
Terrence sighed. This was boring. Whoever invented fishing probably liked boredom and making other people bored. Maybe he shouldn’t have said yes-
A sudden jerk on the line!
Terrence gasped and frantically cranked the reel. A war erupted between vulpine and fish; a war that would decide whether the noble fish prince would find Sir Terrence worthy of his map. He fought through gritted teeth, straining limbs, and determined growls.
The fish slipped easily away.
Terrence grumbled. “Dumb idiot fish.”
“It’s alright, they get away sometimes. You did good for your first time!” Gerald patted his shoulder. “Let’s try again, but this time, I’ll help you. You just have to be patient.”
Gerald cast the line again, his hand over his son’s so they’d reel in the next catch together. He caught his son’s demeanor in his periphery. Terrence was focused, with a slight smirk on his face. Thinking about his pretend game? Maybe. It made Gerald happy regardless. Nikki stood on her hind legs, forepaws planted on the ledge for optimal viewing.
After a few more attempts, they wrangled a mouthwatering pike onto the boat and into the bucket. Nikki happily applauded her brother for catching it, as did their father. He declared it was going to be tonight’s dinner.
Terrence turned his face from the others as he grinned ear-to-ear. This was turning out to be a great trip after all. So much for Nikki receiving all the attention.
There was much more to do here than he thought.
-
Military personnel were stationed about Shebaton Cavern. Silhouettes obscured in darkness as they waited. Others were on the move… slowly… quiet breathing, feet stepping lightly. They avoided anything that would cause a clamor. Imminently, the target would be found. The coward couldn’t run forever and, with the cavern’s only exit secured, he stood no chance.
A group of eight soldiers trod lightly into a wide burrow. A trail of incriminating prints led through the granite aperture. The group was armed with M755 rifles, though those were for protecting themselves against the cave’s endemic predators. The skeletons of unfortunate prey littering the environment made them clutch their weapons a little tighter.
Ohara himself was not to be killed; Rutger was explicit about him being captured alive. Revaria wanted justice, and Rutger wanted to ensure payback would be broadcasted to the satisfaction of all.
The group split into two to take on diverging paths. A figure watched the group on the right as they unknowingly came his direction. He quickly leapt onto a precipice ensconced in darkness and prepared. Not much time to foster energy for a charged attack; he couldn’t waste a second. His Hyper Beam needed to knock them out if he wanted to escape.
“Hear that?” One soldier, a Grovyle, switched on a flashlight with tremulous hands and illuminated the path.
Nothing, Save for a few tumbling granules against the wall.
A Simipour growled and shoved the flashlight downward with an aggressive paw. “Tryin’ a give us away?”
But before the Grovyle could pull away and flick the light back up, it was too late. A concentrated blast of blinding energy struck the hapless group. They were knocked to the ground in pained screams before losing consciousness.
The figure waited a minute to ensure no one got up before leaping down. His feet hardly made a sound, though the few objects rustling about in his backpack brought a tinge of concern. He waved away extant wisps of dust and surveyed the damage.
“… Didn’t have to come to that… He shouldn’t have sent you.” He thought as he shook his head. He knelt to check their pulses… still alive.
After confiscating some of their equipment, he fled.
The four woke up later with grinding headaches, but otherwise thankful to be alive. They still had their rifles and radios; whoever attacked didn’t take those for some reason.
Then the Simipour felt for the spherical trapping devices on his belt.
Not there.
Neither did the other three have theirs.
They radioed the group that diverged at the fork. Calls were repeated. Nothing. Static fuzz greeted each plea for help. They didn’t know the uniforms and skeletons of the other four were piled against a dead-end. The orientation of their bones suggested they never knew what hit them.
-
The late afternoon sun grazed the distant treeline. The heat of the day waned into a tepid breeze. The smell of raw pike teased everyone’s noses as Gerald descaled it; it meant dinner was soon. Terrence hounded his parents to let him and Nikki play in the forest. If this was the lowest level of wild zone, they should be safe.
“I don’t know,” Gerald said, sending little scales clattering into a bucket. “You might need to watch for radioactive chipmunks.”
“Why?” Nikki asked, ears perked.
“Because they don’t like foxes named Nikki.” Terrence remarked.
The younger Fennekin was indignant. “What?!”
“He’s pulling your leg.” Michelle rolled her eyes, then addressed her husband. “I’ll watch them and make sure the ‘radioactive chipmunks’ stay away.”
While their mother walked with them to the forest line, Terrence waxed eloquent about the secret radioactive nuclear plant under Lake Dorson.
“Yeah…” He kept his voice low as his eyes darted side-to-side. “They say that every night, a big, huge, GIANT radioactive monster walks out of the lake and looks for little foxes to take back to his lair. When he finds one, he puts them in a BIG boiling pot with green stuff and makes them radioactive too!”
“Wh-what’s wadiotif?” Nikki questioned, pivoting her head toward the lake. It was still… for now.
“It means…” Terrence paused for dramatic effect. “Your blood turns green, you grow four extra legs, and then five extra eyes! Once you see the radioactive chipmunks, you’ll see what’s coming.”
Nikki’s fur bristled and she whimpered.
“Terrence, enough.” His mother said. “You’re scaring her.”
“No I’m not.”
“She’s five; she’ll believe anything you tell her.” Michelle stooped and picked up her daughter to console her.
Terrence grunted. “Fine.”
A rustling came from their left as something small stirred a patch of grass. Ears perked up as the foxes observed. Terrence was about to announce it was a radioactive chipmunk when the mystery creature revealed itself.
A wee field mouse, a garden-variety resident of Lake Dorson going out to forage. It scampered toward a nearby baneberry shrub. It was aware of the foxes’ presence, but trotted on as though no hazard existed. It was used to a life of visitors and no predators.
“Mousie!” Nikki excitedly pointed and reached out her arms. “Mommy mommy can I pet it?!”
Terrence smirked and lowered into a crouch. “You know… I feel like a nice, good hunt right now.”
“Terrence.” His mother intoned, almost sounding like a growl. “Leave it alone.”
Nikki didn’t understand what was going on until she noticed her brother creeping toward the unsuspecting rodent. “No! Don’t hurt da mousie!”
With a wag of his tail, the fox leapt, limbs extended and eyes on his target.
POUNCE!
Panicked squeaking. Teeny limbs flailing. The mouse dangled helplessly from Terrence’s mouth.
“No! No!” Tears welled up in Nikki’s eyes. “No hurtie!”
His mother glared. “Hurt it and we’ll ground you.”
Terrence scowled as he lowered his head and let it go. Back to its burrow it hid. “I was just playing! I wasn’t gonna hurt it.”
“We raised you to be respectful and gentle; we don’t treat animals like that.”
Terrence wanted to retort that wild foxes ate mice, but figured a smart-aleck remark would send him into punishment territory. There was also the fact he wasn’t wild and this wasn’t a hunting spot. All hunting at Lake Dorson was strictly designated to a secluded section of the forest.
“Am I clear?” His mother asked.
“Yeah… sorry.” He looked down in mostly-genuine sincerity. “I-I’ll be nice.”
His mother nodded. “Good.”
The mouse waited till the foxes were far away before resuming its foraging. Nikki was upset she didn’t get to pet it, but her mother assured she would get to do that soon. Mice were everywhere.
The mother and her children played in the forest, but Michelle made sure their tents were always in view. The encroaching darkness of the summer evening and imminence of savory pike meant they wouldn’t play long.
“Anoder one!” Nikki exclaimed as she snagged a pine cone from inside a log and ran to her mother. The little girl counted her stockpile. “I haf fife!” Her fluffy tail wagged.
“Good job! Can you find, uh,” Michelle surmised how much light they had left. “Two more?”
Meanwhile, Terrence brought over his twenty-ninth. Combined with Nikki’s total, they almost had enough to fuel the Starship Explorer and go to the next planet. He darted away in search for more.
Nikki poked about the same log as before, expecting more pine cones to spontaneously appear. She crawled in deeper… deeper… moss, soil… was that a pine cone? She reached a paw forward.
Just a stone.
But when she disturbed it, there was a sound. A soft squeak. A dark silhouette scurried from its shadow.
Nikki beamed. “Mousie!”
Forget the pine cones. She was going to capture and pet the adorable, fuzzy little murine. Tiny animals existed so she could pet them.
The light-gray rodent trod through dirt and leaves toward a modest pile of fallen baneberries. Tonight’s supper before a cozy sleep deep in its humble log. The yellow fox was a few feet behind it, but that was no concern. Conditioning told it she was a harmless visitor just walking by.
Nikki had no concept of this.
Thinking the mouse would try to run, she crouched and poised to leap. Gently, of course. She’d trap the critter in sudden surprise and pet it to her heart’s content. She watched…
Wait…
Wait……
… Now!
The fox pounced, her legs propelling her to the unsuspecting mouse in a single leap. Startled by the sudden rustle of foliage, the mouse darted away. Nikki was faster.
“Hey!” She swiped with her right paw upon landing to stop the mouse. She intended to grab its tail.
… Except the mouse’s maneuvers caused her to misjudge her own and miss the tail. The fleeing animal was pressed into the compact soil with a soft crunch.
With a gasp, she pulled her paw away. The mouse lay on its left side. No stirring. No twitching.
“M… mousie?”
With a hesitant paw, she nudged it. Nothing. Its supine body was intact, but flattened and contorted. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh no… oh no...”
“Hey Nikki!” Terrence bounded toward her with a mirthful grin. “We have forty pine cones! We can-” He stopped short when he realized she wasn’t looking at him. When he walked closer, he beheld the crumpled, furred mass at Nikki’s paws. “What the-?”
He looked at her with inquisitive eyes. Teary-eyed Nikki slowly faced him.
“I-I hurt da mousie…”
Terrence looked at the creature again and realized what happened. His eyes widened… his innocent little sister did this?!
Nikki’s tears grew into painful sobs. A vacation meant for fun, playing, and new sights…
Brought unintended misery.