Creek-Shots! | Craig of the Creek one shots

Tick - Wildernessa

The girl wearing a ripped-up teddy-bear mask and no shoes has already crushed two insects today.

One was a larger-than-usual red ant. She saw it from the top of her two-feet-shorter-than-usual stature, which she was still getting used to. Even then, she couldn't stop her foot from stomping it in time. Luckily, it wasn't a fire ant, so it didn't hurt to step on with bare feet. Fire ants were smaller, and all those anthills were under the sycamore tree by the bike ramps. She is safe from those, and they are safe from her.

The other insect was a horned beetle. It's pretty, as far as bugs go, and there's a burn of guilt inside of her for killing such a beautiful part of the Earth. She only stepped on half of it, but that half had its horn and head. It still twitched, its blue-black wings and short thin limbs flapping and kicking post-mortem.

Bare feet hadn't been a problem before. She hardly ever needed to touch the ground, and furry paws tread lighter than any human ever could. Besides, nature had a right to destroy nature. It was the law of the land, the circle of life.

She despises that cycle of pain and despair now, but what does she know? She is an invasive species, like all humans. She brings unnatural death with her just by walking through the Creek.

She picked up the half-dead, still twitching beetle and walked into the heart of the home of the invasive species.

It isn't her home. Her home is, was, had been, the true outside, not the man-made and kid-run one. Her home was the wilderness of her namesake, the expanse of trees, fields, brooks and every other living thing that made the Creek breath on its own.

She needs a new home. She has failed this one.

She also needs a juice box. Walking around in this heat all morning has made her thirsty.

A different girl stands under the ginormous tree at the center of the human's paradise. She is the lifeblood of the invasive species, bringing outside sweets and sustenance into the woods, as well as plastic and pollutants, despite Wildernessa's protests.

She eyes the barefoot, bear-clad girl as she walks up to the tree.

"Wildernessa! Haven't seen you in a while!" Kit says, smiling. "What will it be today?"

Wildernessa knows this is Kit's business tactic, false niceness to market and sell as much as possible. She does not respect the tactic, and she doesn't reciprocate the niceness.

She gives her order blunt. "Juice box. No straw." She may be a harbinger of death, but she still cares about preventing it. She's seen those videos of turtles choking on garbage. She's showed them to kids when she catches them throwing trash in the running water of the creek.

Kit puts out a hand. "And what might you have for payment?"

Wildernessa still has the beetle, held tight in her palm. She felt it stop moving a while ago. She was going to bury it, but it won't mind if it's used as currency if it's already dead.

She places it on the table. "It won't run away. 'Smushed it already."

Kit inspects it, adjusting her red-framed glasses. After a long look, she shrugs. "Good enough. I got a discount on these, anyway," she says as she hands an apple juice box to Wildernessa.

As she walks away with her drink, she observes the stares of the invasive species. She knows they are trying to figure out what's missing from her. Humans have a way of picking these things out, perceptive of when the status quo has changed, or if it never was. It's a survival instinct all animals have, but humans use it on each other, since they are at the top of the food chain.