The Wonderful Adventures of Bea Andrews

Chapter 5

I bolt under her chest and out under her extended foreleg. I hear a loud scream of agony and scramble to my feet as my eyes start to water. My chest constricts and I whip around to see Rosey standing, scared and alone, in her nest. I step towards her, and she lets out a low growl. I freeze. Rosey stares with cold eyes before darting into the back of her den. I blink. Uncle Brady states, grabbing my arm, "Maybe we'll feed them later. Can you go inside and clean up? It's nearly lunch, and we can start lessons after that, okay, sweetheart?" I nod and back away, part of my heart tearing to leave Rosey alone and scared in her nest. As I grab the shed handle, I hear her let out a long groan before hissing at Margret and Uncle Brady.

The walk back to the house is arduous and uneventful. I drag myself across the grass as the wind lashes against my cheeks. I scratch the back of my neck and clench my jaw. Good job, Bea. You definitely don't look stupid right now. You messed up SO bad they sent you back inside. Can't you do anything right? I kick at a clump of torn up dirt and shuffle towards the porch. Why am I so stupid?

Uncle Brady catches up to me and sighs, "I'm not sure what's gotten into her lately. She's gotten more and more upset and, dare I say it, broody lately."

I ask, speeding up to match his urgent pace, "But that doesn't explain her attempting to drag me away."

Uncle Brady nods and states, "I think the sound you made when you fell might've triggered some latent motherly instinct in her. Hopefully Margret can sort her out in time for you to spend time with her tomorrow. If she continues to act odd, we may need to get the vet involved to be sure she isn't full of a more surprises than we're prepared for. We're licensed for the breeding and birthing of Sumatran Bat Tigers only, nothing else." My heart sinks. They can't keep her. I'd never see her again... would I? I glance up at Uncle Brady, who refuses to meet my eyes. He coughs, and cooly comments, "She'll be well cared for at the facility. Once she's raised the cubs, she might be returned to us. If not, it isn't a huge deal to find you a new mount." I squint at his face as we walk. Is he lying to me? He glances quickly at me before darting his eyes away. I bite my lip.

I ask, wringing my hands before shaking them out, "What if I try again? It'd be a shame if she got sent away. Maybe if I go back in there..."

Uncle Brady turns to me and asks, his voice uncharacteristically heavy, "Are you sure? There might not be a coming back from this if she bonds to you and we send her away." Is this really what I want? My heart aches as I imagine her being chained and dragged away. I see her fighting against the unfamiliar hands and the cold combination, her feet clawing the ground in desperation. Her soulful eyes glowing with remorse and fear. Her life has been nothing but cages until now... how can I send her to be caged again?

I nod and state, broadening my stance, "I'll do it. I'll try again with her. What do we have to do first?"

Uncle Brady sighs, running a hand through his messy red hair, "First, your auntie and I have to go find River and Maggie. So, here's what we can do. You'll stay here and familiarize yourself with the tack in the tack room by cleaning it. When you're done cleaning all of Rosey's tack, you can sit outside her run and watch her. Here..." He hands me a small walkie talkie. "If something happens, don't be afraid to call." I nod and we head inside to get ready.

***

I sit by the window of the tack room, polishing a massive pile of leather. Uncle Brady called it a "Combination Surcingle" that was made custom for Rosey. I have no clue what anything does, but at least I can ensure it's clean... what ever it is. I take the cleaning solution Uncle Brady gave me and begin to gently apply it the way he told me to with a rag. I rub it into the leathery material, making it smell less like sweat. The leather is stiff. Has Rosey never worn this before? I glance out the door. Rosey croons from her nest below the loft. She rises to her feet, and trots towards me. She sits down on the floor by the door, and gently chatters at me. I smiled softly at her, and she twitches her ear at me. Her tail swishes back and forth. Her wings shuffle, the tendrils flexing as she looks at me. The paw-like limbs on the end of her wings stretched and her claws click on the floor. I resumed polishing the leather, causing her ears to perk up with curiosity. The solution smells of vanilla as I work it into the leather. As I begin to rub, the leather slightly softens. Rosey lays her head down on her wings and settles on the floor. Before long, the sound of her snores are rattling the cupboards of the tack room. I turn over the massive web of leather, working on the underside of the tack. I smile softly as I listen to Rosey snore with contentment nearby. I could get used to this. I finish the combination and begin to reconstruct the pieces according to the diagram Uncle Brady left me. I thread the massive straps through each other, forming three rings attached by various straps and buckles. I set it on the desk and admire it. It resembles the head harness I'd seen the nobles use on their hunting hounds, but larger. It also had a heavy, padded surcingle attached to the rear via five thick straps of leather. I grab the reins and set to work on them. Before I'm finished, Rosey is awake again and scratching at the back door of the shed. I stand up reattach the reins to the combination. Uncle Brady said that Rosey doesn't need any tack to go outside, so I close the tack room door and head out into the main shed with Rosey. Rosey bounds over, her eyes bright. Excited, she pushes her large forehead against me, causing a strange warmth to pulse against my chest. Her neck has a thick layer of soft fur, and it sends a tingle through my hands as I pet her. I smile at Rosey as she pulls away, her eyes full of mirth and playfulness. The straw crunches under my boots as I head to the rear door. The latch is heavy and cold, the metal as wide as my wrists. I shove up on the latch, and the door swings open. I shove the door, and the sunshine is a flash of white against the dark barn. Rosey makes a chattering sound, which seems to be a sing of joy, and pushes past me to bolt out into a large paddock.

I step out into the paddock, leaving the door ajar.My jaw falls open as I examine the space. Several artificially made cavernsline the walls of the massive paddock. They seem to be made of black and greystone, and tower over me like unseeing eyes of judgement. There are alsoseveral trees which obscure the true size of the paddock, randomly providing acanopy of shade. The trees are thicker than my body, making it difficult to seeRosey. I step tentatively deeper into the canopy of trees. The trees creak inthe wind as I step closer, my heart pounding in my chest. I put one foot infront of the other. The darkness of the canopy mimics the darkness of the barn,obscuring shapes and throwing deceiving shadows. I pause. The trees creak. Alow rumbling sends shivers up and down my spine. I back away, the hip-highgrass swishing around my legs. I trip, falling backwards. The grass fills myvision and obscures my body as the ground begins to shake. I close my eyes andflinch as the shaking grows closer. Hot breath fans over me as the shakingstops. I crack my eyes open, and come face to face with large, glowing eyes.