Laughter Lines

Awoken I Stand

"We should get some sleep," Kay murmured. Her fingers slid through Arthur's hair with smooth and easy strokes as his breathing finally evened out. "You can tell me everything tomorrow. I'm exhausted and I can't imagine you're any better off."

He gave a short laugh. No, he certainly wasn't.

It was cool in the sagging shack. Innumerable cracks and holes in the structure let in the evening air, but it wasn't uncomfortable by any means. Wherever they were, it still felt like summer. Arthur knew sleep would come for him the moment he set his head down. Still, best to get dressed. The clothes Kay had found him were thick and heavy. He stood, shaking out a pair of wool pants and stepping into them. Lucky for him there was a drawstring. No way he'd be keeping these up himself.

Now that your immediate needs are met and the burden of shame has lifted, you find yourself stuck on a detail. There was provision on the porch just now. A string of fresh kills prepared for you at your location. Someone knows you are here. Alarm begins to rise as you connect to the next dot; someone knows what you are and what you need.

No, there will be no sleep until this is sorted. Tying off the drawstring, you clear your throat. Try to be casual. "Hey, Kay..." you immediately drop the false note. It feels all bent around to feign that you aren't bothered. To Kay, of all people. You turn to her, your face pinched and your voice strained. "Cayenne, do you have any idea who left those... all that on the porch? Someone knows an awful lot more than I'm comfortable with them knowing if they can leave a gift that specific where I just happen to be hiding out. Especially since I still don't know where we are."

Her eyes widen and she sucks in a breath. "I forgot! Arthur, there's a weird fox out here, and I'm pretty sure... I mean... I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it was singing to me."

Black rings the edges of your vision and all of a sudden there is no air in the room. Your heart is trying to escape your body and while you're at it, escape sounds like a very good idea. No, Artie, there's nothing for it. We are already found, we must run again. We must... we...

"Arthur? You look like you've seen a ghost. What do you know about this?"

You don't smell any fox, though. You stumble back to the porch, dropping to hands and knees and smelling the bloodstain and the treacherous steps leading to it. Rotten wood. Lichen. Earth. Blood. No scent of fox.

A fox that sings and does not leave a scent.

"Arthur? Talk to me, please."

You pivot, still crouched. "What kind of singing? Was it like yours?"

She smells of fear again. Do you already look so terrible? "Yes. It was siren song, and I don't know where but I knew I'd heard it before."

Your cheeks pull back to your ears as teeth crowd your jaw. Kay has retreated several steps. The inky tunnel closes tighter around your vision.

Mother knew. Mother knew where you would be so far in advance that she sent her representative out into the desert before you'd even regained your senses. You picked up the damned fox in the middle of nowhere, thinking it had to be harmless. Something you could fix. Some small thing you could heal instead of destroy. A harmless little one-tail fox that vanished after Kay returned to her senses.

Try to remember. Try to remember. That whole time is blurry. Did we smell the fox when we had it last?

We were stumbling around on the surface when we tripped over it. It smelled of dirt and a good deal of travel. It did not smell like a fox. All we cared was it did not smell like our pack, we did not care to think about what it meant for it to not smell like itself.