Burrow

First Day

Back at my house, my mom looked like she had swallowed a bowl of sugar. She was bouncing up and down, and checking her phone every three seconds.

I walked in, and she looked up at me.

"Nell! I'm so glad you're back! Did you have a nice time?" She said, speaking like a speeding train.

"Well, I-" I began to say.

"Oh, never mind that! I have something for us to do! The old man, Mr. Hopkins is letting us in the woods to search for the Wood Sprites! I've never searched for any Sprite before! How excited are you!" She screamed. Her voice reverberated throughout the old home.

"Well, you've looked for the soda type of Sprite, mom." Jim said, coming down the steps, sounding like a one man band. Creepy old house noises, I supposed.

"Jim, please don't sass me." Mom sighed, looking exasperated. I felt her pain. Jim was...very Jim.

"Should I take my trapping gear?" I asked. My trapping gear was rope, non-killing or maiming snares, and a few treats. We never killed any mystic beasts (if there were any at all), we were just hired to either find them or stop them from destroying property. More then once, some crazy hillbilly rung our phones and screamed about how we had to kill some faerie that was eating his Rutabagas. We always said no to those;mom and dad were no hired killers of anything, and neither was I.

"No. Wood Sprites are peaceful, except when they think they're in danger. For today, let's just scope out the territory, look for clues. They're lightening quick, so keep an eye out, Nell." She told me.

"But is this Mr. Hopkins legit? I mean, he's a hermit in the middle of the woods for goodness sakes. What if he's...mentally unstable? And how can he pay us if he has no job? This looks pretty sketchy, if you ask me. He might not be seeing Wood Sprites, he might just be seeing Wood Sprites, you know?" I ranted a little. I needed some creds if I was going to trek way into a forest.

"Nell, we checked him out. He's not crazy, that's a horrible thing to say about a client." Dad butted in. When did he get here?

"Okay, okay. But really- what's his job?"

"He sells cheese that he grows himself."

"Exactly my point." I told him.

"Nell-"He warned. I took the hint, ran upstairs and changed right into my woods clothes. Basically tall, thick socks, long pants in a hideous Maroon, and a long sleeved shirt. Needless to say, I was sweating, and it wasn't pretty.

I went down those steps of doom, and made it to the door with only one eye roll. Sometimes being the basic one in the family wasn't fun, and I mean, at all. Oliver, that child of pure evil, was spilling orange juice (no pulp, at least) all over his boots. Jim was still being Jim. And my parents were telling each other jokes about finding a Mummy that went way over my head.

Great. I already wanted to be back with Mark.

"I want more juice!" Shouted Oliver after his whole cup was gone to the floor and his shoes. This was going to be a long day.
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"Are we there yet?" Jim whined as we slipped through the marshy dirt. I kicked a large rock and my toe stung, even through those Devils, those fur lined boots that smothered my feet.

"I don't see a cabin, so no, Jim, we are not there yet." I retorted. Sure, I was cranky. He could deal with it for an hour or two.

The trees were so strange, with their prickly bristles and pointed leaves. In California, there were Palm Trees and a few others, but these seemed to be designed for harsh weather. I've been through loads of cold winters, sure, because of moving, but nothing like how Connecticut usually was.

Minutes passed, but they felt like hours. Oliver was getting it too, I noticed even he was trudging a little.

"Nelly, why are the leaves so small here?" He wondered innocently. His eyes were wide, and he was adorable.

"Well," I replied sweetly, "it's warmer in California, so the leaves at bigger. They don't need protection from snow."

"At home, there were big leaves. I like the big leaves." He said, almost philosophically. Home. That word never really rung a bell with me, because home is supposed to be where the heart is. My heart was like a tree, it was planted a lot of times, yet its roots never grew into anywhere. I felt a brief pang of longing. Longing for a normal existence that would never happen.

"Ollie, this is home now." I whispered, more to myself then my brother.

Just then, in the far distance, I saw the cabin. It was a hodgepodge of logs, twigs, mud and leaves. A few squirrels, much to my disgust, were outside, and they had passed on. I instantly became a hundred times more grateful for what I had.

The door was knocked on quite a few times when it went out towards us. A bearded man, probably around sixty, towered over me. He was in the middle of shaving his facial hair, by the looks of it.

"Well, Karters! I couldn't wait to meet you, but I have to say, I would rather do it under less embarrassing circumstances! Well, come in, come in! I have cheese!" He exclaimed. He thought that was embarrassing?! He really didn't know how my family worked. I was perpetually humiliated basically every day of my life,

"Um, no thank you. We just thought we'd get started today. Bye!" Dad said.

"Hold your horses! My cheese is delicious! Stay!" He commanded. Uh...was there a polite way to say that there was no way in heck?

"Well, we would love to try it, but the Wood Sprites mainly go out of their homes at this hour for their...uh, ritual dance. So, we have to go. Next time?" I said. It was totally working! Well, even if it was utter bogus.

"Well, I won't want to interfere with your job, Karters. So look away, we'll have cheese another time." He said cheerily.

"Thanks, Mr. H. Don't worry, we'll take care of your plants." I told him. He chuckled deeply.

"Well, you better run along and start. It's getting late."

He sent us off to his expansive vegetable garden, and we rooted between the broccoli and turnips, in search of tiny foot prints.

I crawled around on my hands and knees, carefully avoiding Mr. H's precious veggies. It was tough work, and I was infinitely grateful to be wearing my woods clothes. Dirt stained my knees and elbows.

Just then, I saw a dark shape slither across the freshly turned up earth. I immediate leapt to me feet, and backed up. Way far.

"I think that's a centipede! I am not going near it, no chance!" I told mom, inching towards the cabin.

"Nell, it might be a Wood Sprite in disguise!" Mom said. I shook my head rapidly.

"Your whining doesn't do you credit, you know." Dad chimed in. I groaned.

"I refuse to go near the bug, not now, not ever. It's gross, and the legs are so...just ew. There are no Wood Sprites hiding in that gross thing, believe me." I countered.

"Fine, then. I guess you don't want our guest, our neighbors, to come over for dinner?" Mom slyly implied what I wanted so bad.

"Mark's going to our house for dinner?" I wondered incredulously, "we don't even have food!" Our cupboards were upsettingly bare.

"We're going to a local food joint with Mark and his Mother." Mom reassured me.

"His mother? What about his father?" Jim butted in. It wasn't any of my business, much less his.

"Concentrate on the Sprites, okay, kids?" I knew that wasn't going to happen.

I checked my watch. We still had hours and hours to go.

I went back on my knees, and continued to find absolutely nothing.
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I dedicate this chapter to s4r4h05 and she gets all credit for creating this lovely cover. She is a nice person, so give her page a glance and check out her story, it's called People. Thanks, everyone!