Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I

WHAT MANY HANDS PAINT 9.5

The sewers were overflowing. It was difficult to move around without running into a sheltered human family. This caused the rats to flee, and Fleas didn't have much to eat. But it didn't matter.

Pli coordinated everything with incredible mastery. In his time with Dannke, he had heard from humans that gnomes were stupid. This human must be eating his words right now. Pli lay back and sighed, exhausted. Fleas came over and sat down beside him.

"I don't know how much longer we can hold out here. The food is running out faster and faster, our patience is wearing thin. We have everything to lose..."

"But we saved a lot of lives," Fleas added. "That's worth something. So we haven't lost everything."

Fleas suddenly became silent and lifted his nose. That smell... It couldn't be! He jumped to his paws and smiled.

"What is it?"

"I think it's Surly, yes, it must be. Somehow it's here."

"Surly... Wait, the mountain goat?"

Fleas stepped out of the room and into one of the tunnels, dodging the lying humans. Many of them gathered around a small bonfire, sharing stories, songs, and what little food was left, until they hastily spotted him and fell silent.

There it was, Surly, lying down and breathing heavily. Nervous from the confined space and the darkness, he guessed. Around his neck were the arms of a little girl who had fallen asleep. When Fleas arrived, Surly got up and the little girl woke up. The parents stepped forward with protective instincts, but when they saw who he was, they greeted him. Fleas was well known among the refugees, even those who had never seen him in person knew who he was. The little hyaenid in human clothes.

Surly approached and sniffed him, tapped the ground twice and gave him a gentle nod.

"My friend, I was worried about you."

"Is he yours?" Asked the little girl, then looked him over from head to toe and added, "You two look alike."

Fleas didn't know what she meant. He pondered the question for a moment and replied.

"He doesn't belong to anyone, but he helped me in the past. Did you protect him?"

The girl nodded.

"He appeared in the stable a few days ago. We've been taking care of him ever since. I call him Mikan."

"When the trolls protected us, we should have left it behind," the father said. "We didn't want to, it was just necessary. But when we left, she escaped and stayed with it. Luckily, we were able to get it to come inside. Hey..."

The father went into a corner and came back with an axe with a strange handle. He gave it to him. It was very heavy, he had to hold it with both hands. The gnarled wood was from the savannah, no doubt. Fleas took it and sniffed it. That smell... It had to be!

"Where did you find it?" He asked jubilantly.

"Next to her owner. She wanted to kill our girl, maybe Mikan too," the mother answered reproachfully.

"She was wounded, we brought her with us," the father said before Fleas had time to think that she was dead. "The trolls took her that way, we don't know what happened after that."

Without a word, Fleas ran after the scented trail of warmth that he longed to appreciate again. It was not easy, because it was mixed with the humidity, the confinement, the liquids and the smoke of the bonfires, but he reached the entrance of a smaller tunnel, guarded by two trolls that prevented him from passing.

"Let me see her."

"She's dangerous."

"She is not. And even if she is, it's my decision."