Subject: 7 - LUNA
Posted on: 2023-01-31 03:03:11 UTC
[This chapter contains minor self-harm.]
Flareon continued to bring us venison, and we drannk from the stream whenever we were thirsty.
And for some strange reason, Mark stopped responding.
He didn't fade away or anything, he just…
I had no idea why.
And when I tried to ask Ythakor, he just said, "Nuh-uh."
Ythakor never said nuh-uh, so appparently something deeply unsettled him.
But what was it?
When I tried asking Ythakor, he just said, "Nuh-uh."
So something deeply unsettled him, by, like, a LOT.
It seemed like Ythakor had lost his memory of speech, andd had forgotten every single word except nuh-uh.
I started getting bored, bored out of my skull, out of my brain.
I started doing everything I could to keep us entertained.
First, I did an ancient ritual dance. I howled like--well, a wolf--and leaped about.
Next, I gathered up some dust, and threw it over my fur, then shook it off.
Out of desperation, I took Mark and pricked my paw with him.
But miraculously, Mark sputtered to life. "Man!" he said. "That felt awesome!"
I frowned. "You need a blood sacrifice to work?"
"Who was the last person who gave you the offering?"
"Hmm, I think that it was Flareon or some other dragon. Who knows."
I groan. "Get. To. The. POINT!" (I keep running into that pun.)
"Cool down, Luna!" said Mark. "I need a blood offering to work. A prick, I work for five days. A small cut, fifty. Anything larger is a thousand days."
"Why does it work like that, Mark?" Ythakor asked.
"Well," replied Mark, "I don't know."
"No?" I asked.
"Nope," replied Mark. "Here comes Flareon!"
We covered up Mark just as Flareon soared overhead and dropped a hunk of venison into our little pit. Oh, well.
After dinner, we went to sleep, my paw still hurting from that little prick.
That night, I had a dream.
I stood at the edge of a cliff, peering down into a dark abyss. It seemed to reach down, down, down forever, though I knew that that shouldn't be possible.
A voice chuckled from deep within. Then the voice spoke, one that sounded like the hissing of a thousand snakes.
"I will have her," crooned the voice. "Might as well give up now."
"Never," I growled.
The voice hissed. "Then you will die a painful death, far away from everyone you love. Come, little wolf. Come down!"
A chunk of the cliff I was standing on gave way, and I fell, screaming, tumbling, into the blackness.