Crescent Moon

The Right Thing: Puercelor

As the Firestar vanquished cloud cover in the distance and gave light to the land, Puercelor the imp did his best to keep up with his kin. The youngest of the bunch, Puercelor was small even by imp standards. The young imp squinted his yellow eyes, happily taking in the Firestar's offering of warmth. Perking up his pointy ears, Puercelor took in the sounds of the world as he stopped to enjoy the moment.

"Hey, runt! Keep up already or we are going to leave you here!"

Puercelor snapped out of his little moment and sped up to catch the others. His little clawed feet moved swiftly and soon he was with the other five imps. Most of them looked at Puercelor with impatience and annoyance. All of them wished they had not dragged him along. The little imp could tell this easily from the anger in their eyes and the shaking of their heads.

Puercelor offered a grin, revealing his bright smile and pointy teeth. "I am sorry, Ockwell. I was just enjoying the Firestar. It is a wonderful day now that the clouds are gone," he said.

Ockwell snorted, giving the smaller imp a hard nudge. Puercelor fought for balance but remained on his feet. "Stop acting strange, Puerc, or we're gonna have to cook you for lunch," he said. Puercelor couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

Puercelor walked closely behind the others as they bantered amongst themselves. All of them had an itching for trouble, so much in fact that Puercelor could only shake his head. The little imp shared many traits with the others, from his dark skin to his clawed fingers and pointy ears. Yet in his heart, Puercelor could not lie, for he felt distant from others of his kind. In fact, deep down, he was content with such differences.

You see, imps were known through all Lunaria as troublemakers. Most were mischievous pranksters, yet many were downright cruel. And this troubled Puercelor greatly, for he had no wish for such things. He knew outsiders viewed him with wary eyes because he was an imp. Also, Puercelor knew his kin viewed him with wary eyes because he wanted to be good.

It was these things that brought the young imp to be on the road with some of his kin. He was still young for such adventures, but the other imps were anxious to see him behave like an imp. And so, they pushed young Puercelor to come along with them. Knowing he had little choice, Puercelor did as he was urged.

The imps walked for some time, laughing and teasing and poking fun at Puercelor. It was an endeavor made worse when the young imp began to whistle a happy tune. The group stopped to cast him dark glances. Puercelor ceased then, choosing to remain silent. Puercelor may have been young, but he was no fool.

After another span of walking, the leader of the pack halted in his tracks and held up his fist. Puercelor knew him well, for he was Midsyr, strongest of the bunch and the object of much of the little imp's torment. "Hold tight, boys. I think we've found what we are looking for," he said.

Puercelor's ears perked up at Midsyr's words. "Adventure?" He asked.

Midsyr hissed, waving the little imp away. "No, mischief, you little sprite," he scolded.

"Oh. Right," said Puercelor as his shoulders sagged.

"What do you see, Midsyr?" Ockwell asked as he scratched at his ear. The piercing on it glimmered in the light of the Firestar. Puercelor could see that Ockwell was trying to concentrate, an action that took the imp great effort. The faces he made in those moments always made Puercelor giggle.

Midsyr pointed to a stretch of rock as he offered a feral grin. "Right there," he said. "That shall be the source of our fun on this day."

"You wish us to play with rocks?" That was Cutley asking then. This was no surprise to Puercelor, for Cutley rarely could outsmart a rock.