Rick woke slowly, the cold floor sucking the heat from his naked body, a rude awakening. Eyes gradually drawing open, met by a bright light that made him groan soundlessly. He closed his eyes again, and very awkwardly, sat up, trying to avoid touching the bare cold ground, feeling far too cold for it.
Sitting up, he rubbed at his crusty eyes, rubbing them tender and moist. Giving him the slight advantage to see through the bright light. With narrowed eyes, he peered through the shine, seeing a small wall of white powder sparkling in a million glittering stars, rays of light penetrating above and into the cave. A beautiful sight that took Ricks breath away.
A breath that was held away as he spotted something else that glittered, a something lying still on the ground before him.
The monster lay just beside the dead fire, barely an arm’s length away from Rick. Still holding his breath, he stared in dread. But slowly breathed out as he noticed that it was simply sleeping. Its body curled around in a small circle like any cat, circling a still Bob.
Ricks eyes grew wide, then he quickly reached a hand up towards the back of his head. Feeling something sticky gluing to his hand. But he felt no pain, no wound, no scar. Removing his hand to look at it, he saw speckles of red and crusty pebbles of dried red flakes.
Looking around, Rick spotted his axe and moved to grab it.
But stopped himself, standing still as his mind processed the information he’d gathered. As it finished, he turned to look down on the monster. Seeing a still little thing, no bigger than Ricks chest, slowly breathing in, slowly breathing out. Eyes closed, still moving inside its thick eyelids. Legs twitching, mouth slightly open, it’s whole demeanor like that of any person dreaming. It’s body coiled in a circle surrounding Bob who, to Rick, looked “dead”.
Staring at the monster, Rick felt his body ease, his mind ease. The monsters looking a lot less threatening. In fact, Rick thought it looked rather, cute. A fact that made Rick remember how it had looked when it had first appeared. A bloody wound that had revealed Bob’s extraordinary, magically impossible ability.
Breathing out soundlessly, Rick shook his head in dismay, wondering how he’d found himself in this situation. How he’d ended up here. Wondering why it had to be him who had tried to save that little girl. Why it was him who was chased by the queen’s guards.
Memories of burning houses flashed like a inferno in his mind. A boy running, and firm hands clasping him.
He closed his eyes and looked up, taking a deep breath, trying to unlock the tightening weight that just formed around his chest. A weight that had grown heavier through his short adventure.
Breathing soundlessly out, he turned to look down again. Down on the cute little monster. Coming to a conclusion, a realization.
This thing, this monster, was innocent. He did not know why it had been wounded, why it seemed so skittish, why it had left him alone during his most vulnerable moment asleep, why it seemed to coil around Bob protectively.
What Rick did know, was that he did not want to be scared anymore. This monster, wasn’t a monster. Or not the kind he knew. Not the kind that he thought all monsters should be.
Blinking, Rick kept staring at the little monster, the little thing, the glittering little beast. It’s chest heaving up and down, twitching as if hunting prey within its foreign dream. A mind he could not do nothing but guess at what it thought, what it remembered.
What it felt.
Time moved past in slow-motion, in miles per second. Rick having clothed himself, having brought the flames back to life, having taken jerky to eat, another held in a gentle grip. Waiting as time flowed past. Embers of time like the twinkling stars at night.
Waiting for the little beast to wake from its slumber, was what Rick did. And wake slowly, it did. Opening its eyes groggily, one lid opening, then a second, like a salamander blinking away the dryness in the desert. The little beast slowly raised its head, blinking as it stared at the newly lit fire. It let its tongue flicker out, tasting the flames, the heat, blinking at the sight.
Slowly, it moved its eyes away from the fire, towards what lay beside. Seeing Rick sitting on his newly clothed bum, staring back at it. It opened its maw as if to growl, as if to look threatening. But it stopped itself, ears flapping upwards, tail following suit.
It had spotted the meat in Ricks hand, meat that was held forth as if to be given in an offering. The little beast looked down on the meat, then up on the man. Waiting for the delicious meat to be thrown. An action the man had taken previously.
But as the minutes passed, with no jerky flying overhead. The beast tilted its head to the side, confusion in its mind, eyes narrowed in slight irritation. Saliva trickling down its slitted tongue, flickering out, tasting the warmth emanating from the red fire, smelling the heat and tasty meat.
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The man shook the meat as he noted the beast’s confusion, then he let his hand fall to the ground, shaking the meat closer to the ground.
The beast narrowed its eyes even more, now staring at the man in suspicion. Slowly unfolding its body, going up on its four legs, meticulously picking up Bob in its many-teethed-maw.
It took one uneasy step forward, noticing the man shaking the meat in an affirmative manner. Keeping its eyes squarely on the man’s face. A face that morphed strangely into an expression, an expression this little beast could not understand, for it knew little of humans. But an expression that made the man’s mouth morph upwards towards his eyes.
The expression was strangely comforting to the little beast, if rather ugly. And it took another step forward, this one more, safe, more comfortable. The beast staring at the man’s eyes, eyes that shone with intelligence, with understanding, with pain.
After two more steps, the monster gently dropped Bob from its mouth, then motioned forward to grab the meat out of the man’s hand. But he quickly retracted it, spooking the little beast something fierce.
It’s tail immediately fell down, ears closing behind its head, mouth full of teeth exposed as it growled at what it assumed to be an attack.
An attack that didn’t come, the beast quickly realized. For when it moved its head upwards, it spotted the man staying perfectly still with the meat raised high, but pointing down on the little beast. A move that, again, spooked the little beast but made it stop growling.
And as the seconds passed without further incident, the beast felt its ears flop up again, tail raising, head tilting as it tried to figure out the strange man. It then followed the finger with its eyes and turned to look where it was pointing. Seeing Bob underneath its head.
Turning back up, the man made a move as if pointing again, firmer, then pointed to the meat.
The little beast slanted its head, then a light seemed to flicker to life within its eyes. And it lied down on top of Bob, on top of its savior. A tongue flickering out, staring up at the man. Staring defiantly.
The man morphed his face yet again, this time moving his mouth downwards, hand still holding the jerky. He breathed out soundlessly, a weird feature of this weird man. Then closed his eyes.
The little beast stared at the man, eyes closed and moving frantically within his closed eyelids. An expression that the little beast thought to be thinking.
But it paid little heed to that, for while the man was thinking, he had subconsciously lowered his hand, the same hand holding the jerky.
The beast’s eyes immediately enlarged, tail whipping back and forth, chin touching the cold ground as its butt raised up in the air. Its body growing tense as it unconsciously waited for the perfect opportunity.
The opportunity came as the man’s hand fell upon his lap, jerky easily grabbable. And the little beast pounced.
Bounding quickly, far too quickly for its size, it crashed into the sitting man and grabbed the meat out of his hand. Teeth barely scraping it as they clenched around the delectable meat. Its legs a tangled mess, jerking around as it sought traction, something to balance on.
It found it quickly enough and stood up. Standing on something very soft, wondering why. Looking down, it saw two brown and wide eyes staring back up at it. Wearing an expression that tingled the beasts instincts, an expression only prey would hold.
Its mouth watered, its eyes saw red. Instinct herding it to strike, to bite, to slit the life out of the prey’s bared throat. The prey was defenseless, breathing heavily as it stared up at the beast-monster with nothing but fear in its eyes.
But the monster-beast, didn’t follow it's instinctuall voice. It didn’t listen.
If it had, then the little beast would have killed a strange man. The little beast would have killed a man who hadn’t killed it. It would have killed a man that had saved its savior, maybe saved it.
Even if it didn’t comprehend it’s thinking fully. It somehow knew, felt, that listening to its instincts would have been regretful.
Instead, the beast slowly laid down on top of the man. Its face reaching forward, touching its wet snout against the man's dry nose. Snout against nose, the beast stared deeply into the fearful eyes of the man.
The beast then let itself react on instinct, a new instinct it thought to be gone with its mother. An instinct of emotion, closing its eyes as something deep within started rumbling. Rumbling like a distant volcano, like thunder in the distance, like an earthquake nearing.
Rick stared down at the monster in freight, fear at the forefront of his mind. Barely realizing that the sound the monster was eliciting wasn’t coming from its mouth, but deep from its stomach.
He only realized something was different when light suddenly started flooding the dark cave. He finally took his eyes away from the monsters closed eyes and down to the stomach. Blinking several times as he realized the monster was glowing, glowing in a deep amber. Blue like the deepest ocean, but with a core of red like the rising sun.
Rick connected the dots within his head, realizing that the sound was growing in intensity. A sound that was strangely calming. A sound that bounced around his body, his bones, his mind. Vibrating, comforting.
Bringing memories of himself seeking comfort in his mother’s embrace.
He looked back on the monster- the little beasts face. Staring at it strangely, trying to figure it out, figure out why he felt so, calm. Felt so, embraced.
His mind found the word, grabbed the word, and gave him a directive, a compulsion. Rick just needed to hug this little creature.
Hesitation came with that realization, a hesitation that didn’t stop his arms from going nearer the creature. Going up and around it, slowly embracing.
Upon the first touch, the little beast opened its eyes, staring down at Rick.
It felt the man grabbing a hold of it, a flash of panic in its mind. Panic quickly fading as the hold was gentle. Hard, but gentle.
It stared into the eyes of the man; the man staring back, eyes searching. Water suddenly formed around his eye, eyes, trickling down his dry face. Then the man held a tighter grip around it, pulling its face closer to his. Soundless breathes of air puffing out onto the little beast’s slimy scales.
Normally, the beast would have struggled. But this felt comforting, safe, warm.
It let the man hold it, its body turning a warmer shade of bright.
A crackling fire being the only other sound in the small cave.