MaNnIeS

DAY 2 IN THE SHELTER

The Sun rises majestically over a new day, filling the sky with vibrant colours. Probably. It's a bit hard to see when there's a couple of barillion tons of rocks and dirt in the way.

The shelter is pretty dark. The torches need constant relighting to bring the brightness level up to 'dim', and no one dares to have them all on at once, lest we run out of resources in later times.
Claw has caught some bugs. They taste horrible, but we need to catch and eat them all before they escape the shelter or rot. LaLa is already complaining about being down here, and I'm not sure if it's even been twenty-four hours. She said that it was ruining her 'poetic instinct'. This is the lion who rhymes 'glory' with 'porridge', people. How do would you even begin to think that they are remotely related? In any way whatsoever? Nevertheless in rhyme?

Moz is sleeping a lot. Dad - I mean, Cheif Canvasatorn (really need to get in the habit of using official names) - gave her a sleeping pill. He didn't want her running around and getting into trouble while we were still settling in. Luckily, while we're settling in there's no school either. I'm home schooled: I'm pretty sure all lions are these days. Lessons are basically just repetition; I rather Uncle Samoin's flying lessons.

I'm heading over to the Northern border. Sir TouLong didn't tell me when he wanted me to meet him. Huh. I'm calling him sir. Dad would probably be furious. I'm at the border now. Note to self: Don't say 'um' or 'uh'.

"Hello?-"

"You need to be certain, unfazed, steady! No hesitation, no questions! ... And no falling over either!"

I picked myself up from the floor. "I... didn't see you there... sir."

He sniffed. "Didn't your father teach you to look before you speak." It was not a question.

"Sorry?"

"I was lying in wait for you youngeon. Ya didn't look, and ye would've been dead if I weren't merciful. Never trust yir enemies."

"I thought our only enemies down here were the MaNnIeS?"

He stared me down. It was then that I noticed that he had a scar across one eye.

"Um... er... oh..." I stumbled to find a way to correct my first 'um'. He chuckled.

"Down 'ere, our only enemies are eachother, yongun. Look at these families." He waved a paw at the rest of the shelter, "12 whole families squashed into 10 quorkshires, each with enough food that would generally last them, what, eight months? They gotta last three times that, with food rotting at the same time, and everyone in constant danger. At first it'll be everyone bein' wary of the others, no friendly bonds appearin'. Then, as the months wear on, they'll be fighting for space, for food, for water..."

"I thought that we had a natural source here? That everyone shares?"

He growled. "Ah been in one of these shelters before, yungun. They want to survive. The easiest way is to make sure that no one else does. That's why ah chose this patch."

"You chose this area? But it's the closest to the danger!"

"The closest to the central fountain, and the way to high-tail if the scene gets bloody."

I looked up at him. "I thought this place was... peaceful..."

"Meant ta' be. Meant ta' be." He was silent for a minute.

"What happened to your eye? Sir?"

He looked at me viciously, but I could see the sparkle in his eye. "Ya don't just ask people what happened to their eyes!"

"Uh... you're allowed to ask me what happened to mine, if you want..."

"What?"

"Uh... nothing. My sister nearly poked a stick in it once, though."

He chuckled. " I'll tell you my tale one day, yoiungun. Come back tomorrow."

With that he prowled back to his den.