Voices In The Night
In the darkness, Miranda huddled with the others against the rock face, listening to their breathing and snoring, wondering at their capacity to survive. In the last light, hungry, thirsty, cold and exhausted, they had fallen asleep, too tired to fear. Rollo snored. Theobald, near her feet, wheezed; Manley’s muted breaths were small but steady, but Malcolm’s seemed hesitant. She surmised he wasn’t asleep. “Are you awake?” Continue reading
AN ARRANGEMENT IS CONCLUDED
Rollo, his eyes searching until they stung in bright sunlight bouncing off the rock face, was certain now there was no way through. This was ludicrous. What were they doing on this stupid mountain? Hadn’t he been against coming here? Yes. What could they be thinking? It wasn’t a natural habitat. What was that animal—a goat—yes, they certainly weren’t goats. And who would want to be? Goats were obviously not very intelligent, probably as a result of living on the sides of mountains. Like those stupid eagles perched on a crag just above them. In point of fact, no sensible animal would live anywhere near a mountain if given a choice. And yet, here they were, climbing these hideously big, stupid rocks. Hadn’t he warned them? Of course, he had. And, as usual, no one had listened to him. Their way was blocked, and no doubt he would have to be the one to figure a way out of this mess, but at the moment, he couldn’t see what. He would be the one who would have the responsibility to come up with a way out. He knew that responsibility would frighten to others, but he wouldn’t let fear clutch him. He would remain calm. He knew they were depending on him.
“What can you see?” Malcolm definitely sounded worried. Continue reading
Menace From Above
By the time the sun had reached its crest, they had traversed much of the plain. Theobald barely clung to Malcolm. He kept his eyes, now dry and weary, closed except to glimpse how much farther the tree line was.
“Do you think there’ll be anything to eat?” muttered Rollo.
“Possibly,” said Malcolm.
“Water,” Theobald muttered.
“Maybe the Goat was talking about a mountain stream,” said Rollo encouragingly. “Maybe there’ll be some stream veg. In point of fact, mountain stream veg is very succulent.”
“We’ll find something,” said Miranda quietly.
Theobald tried to visualize the mountain stream—cool, clear, with a mud pool at the bottom. He could hear water splashing. He could feel the water wash over his carapace as he dove into the pool. Fish darted here and there, plants waving lazily at the bottom of the pool, such good gringy green things to eat! “Ooooo,” he moaned. Continue reading