Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I

WHEN FLEAS BITE THE DOG 7.7

Despite her pain and thirst, she enjoyed the sun on her face a little longer before she woke up completely. Lying on a blanket, she felt herself being rocked in the endless march. Slowly she opened her eyes. At first she was dazzled, but then she got used to the daylight again. She caressed the wound with her hands. It hurt inside, but on the outside it was almost closed. The magic of singing, she guessed. Noticing that she had sat up, the meles who had been carrying her stopped and put her gently on the ground.

"Kkelea, how are you feeling?" Her father asked.

"I've been better, but nothing that time won't heal," she stood up. For a moment she felt dizzy and almost lost her balance.

"You should lie down," the other male suggested.

"I have slept enough. My paws feel numb. I want to use them again. Do you have any water?"

They gave her a waterskin. She emptied it with greedy satisfaction, she then closed her eyes and licked the liquid that had tried to escape and felt better. She looked around. There were blue and purple flowers everywhere. And not a mountain in sight. So much flatness made her feel strangely confused. It was hard for her to comprehend the distances. She handed the waterskin back to her father and smiled.

"Thank you for everything."

"The least I can do is take care of your wounded body, daughter."

"I don't mean just for that, but for the rest."

He smiled back. Something in his eyes provoked her tenderness. He seemed much more innocent and pure than most meles, as if he did not envy the freedom of females, nor did he consider his role a shame. Someday she would ask him why. For now, other matters were pressing. She stumbled towards the outpost. She felt a tingling in the soles of her paws and the wound hurt when she moved; but she didn't want to appear weak. Not after what her lack of control had caused.

She saw Zanarah, Zeppel and Helirah, the three of them walking together, almost side by side. Who would have thought that so much time of feuding and fighting would be resolved with a few simple words. Then she learned that they were now called the Three-Headed Beast. Seeing her, Helirah and Zanarah ran to her side. Zanarah licked her cheek, forehead, and part of her snout a little too enthusiastically; for a moment, Kkelea was embarrassed. A twinge led her hand to the wound, signaling that it had not yet healed.

"Shouldn't you be resting?"

"No, Helirah, I must make myself useful. Especially after my failure."

The sisters moved to make room for Zeppel. She watched her from the towering height. Anger flashed in her eyes.

"Make no mistake, Kkelea the Shield. I admire your courage and resilience, but if you don't listen to your body and its limitations, you will find yourself in the same situation again," she picked her up like a newborn cub. Kkelea didn't like it, but it would be madness to rebel against Zeppel. "No matter what you thought about your mother, no matter how right those thoughts were, her last words to me were about you. She made me promise that I would protect you no matter what. And I nearly broke that promise. Now the great human city looms on the horizon. Tell me, will you allow me to keep it now?"

"I don't want to be a burden."

"The only burden is for you to talk such nonsense, little one. Hey, Scourge, Ewik!"

They both turned around. The little emperor was practically running, trying to make up for every step of the giant taurid. Zeppel set her down. As she straightened her body, she felt another twinge of pain, but managed to hide it.

"Kkelea, shouldn't you...?"

"Rest?" Se interrupted Scourge. "No, I'm not that well, but I'm not that bad either. What happened in the battle? We won, I guess, but how?"

"At the last minute, we were joined by rebellious slaves from other nearby villages. The orcs were absent from the battle because they went looking for them."

"Yes, but they did it without warning or anything," Ewik added. "That was wrong."

"Lately I feel the orcs are more... chaotic," Helirah added. "I can't explain it, but something in their eyes makes me wary."

"If you can't explain it," Scourge complained, "then it's nothing more than suspicion. We cannot make accusations based on feelings. I have already reprimanded them for acting alone, and perhaps they truly believed it was for the best."

"So new forces are joining us. That's good, there are more of us. And won't their masters come looking for them?"

"They said they killed them all. It's true, there are more of us, but we've also lost a great advantage."

"What do you mean?"

"The avians are gone," Scourge looked down, embarrassed. "Only six had survived the slaughter, and they were no longer willing to fight."

Kkelea was the one who should be ashamed. It was because of her truncated scream that so many had died. Her wings were a very powerful weapon, and one of the plans they had thought of was to send them to the top of the walls with hooks and ropes, and at night the Wind Paws would open the gates. Now they would have to think of another method. All because her stupid scream had lasted less time. What if it happened again, what if many others died because of her? What if they failed? Who knew that a shield would have more responsibility and more pressure than any spear or sword. It had already shattered once, she couldn't let it happen again.