Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I

WHAT MANY HANDS PAINT 9.11

Scourge and Dannke fell as if life had drained from their bodies. Fleas saw that they were breathing. Had they fainted? Wait, what was that voice?

A figure fell from the chandelier. Fleas was startled, but then he realized that it was a hyaenid. It was the matriarch! Approaching Dannke with a knife in her hand.

"No, stop! It's over!"

"Nothing is over. As long as those disgusting creatures are alive, we can't be together."

Together? What did she mean? As if he and the matriarch had never exchanged a word. Or was she talking about some other? Fleas grabbed her paw to stop her. She twitched and kicked him in the mouth. Fleas recoiled and touched his gum. It was bleeding. The matriarch was surprised, perhaps she had acted on impulse.

"I'm sorry, but you made me."

"I don't understand what you're talking about. Nothing binds me to you."

"It is Kkrya's fault," Fátrwa bared her teeth and waved her hands vigorously. "That damned old cunt spent her life denying me what belonged to me because of traditions. Traditions this, traditions that, traditions the other. Oh, but she could hug Kkelea, tell her she loved her, that she would be a matriarch. And what about Fizkwik and me? It doesn't matter anymore, I've already killed her. Yes, Kkrya will never bother me again. And if I kill these two, we can be happy. We can write our own history."

Fleas tried to understand what she was saying. His breathing became more and more agitated, and it didn't help that Fátrwa was moving back and forth. She took a step in his direction, Fleas stepped back and covered himself with his arms. Fátrwa lifted him by the arm.

"What is it, why are you afraid?" She asked angrily.

She sniffed him. Fleas kicked her in the chest and escaped from her grip.

"You are not mine anymore. You smell like a human. You smell like a human! This cannot be!" She began to spin in circles.

Fleas wanted to run away, but to do so, he would have to run across the entire room. Even worse, if Fátrwa didn't chase him, she would kill Dannke and maybe Scourge as well. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry and pee himself, but that would do no good, he had to do something!

"Now I understand, now I know what I have to do, yes," Fátrwa looked at him with different eyes, the eyes of a killer, of a Wind Paw.

Fleas turned around, but before he could take a step he felt something warm on his right paw. Then the warmth turned into pain. He looked down. Fátrwa's curved knife was stuck in his thigh. His trembling hand closed around the handle, he pulled, but the stinging pain tore tears from his eyes. He couldn't even scream because of the speed with which he was breathing. The matriarch took the sword from one of the slain knights and stood before him.

"I am sorry, little one, but you are no longer my son."

Before the sword sliced through his neck, a scream came from the door. The blade hit him, but instead of cutting him, it shattered into a thousand pieces, as if his flesh was made of iron. Neither understood what was happening. Fleas looked down at his hands. He felt a kind of vapor enveloping him, dancing around him. Fátrwa turned around.

"Kkelea?"

"Have you lost your mind?"

Kkelea ran limping with the axe in her hand. Fátrwa drew another knife and lunged at her, but Fleas grabbed her paw, this time with more intent. Fátrwa turned and stabbed him in the hand. The knife did nothing to him. What was going on? Kkelea came up beside her and, without stopping her run, kneed her in the face and rolled her over.