a thousand teeth and yours among them; mast / any

[weed]

she is the lamb; he is the slaughter

Oh good, more distrustful souls. Not that Weed really had anyone to blame but himself; after all, he did inject their mother tree with poison. Internally frowning, he kept a brace face, grimacing a little and giving a small, brave smile to the two stallions. “You’re right,” he glanced down at the favored leg and then rolled his little shoulders a little. “Maybe I will head there next, although I’ve heard that they haven’t been real generous with their healing waters lately.” Another small smile. “It’ll heal in time though.”

As if remembering himself, Weed straightened a little, “My name is Ann, by the way.” Weed inflicted his voice with a touch of a drawl, his voice throaty and whimsical and distinctly feminine. “I don’t know how much right I have to be here,” she nodded at the burning garden, “what with what has been happening to your poor kingdom and all, but I thought that you had a right to know.” His mouth dropped into a frown.

“You see, I was in the meadow yesterday (it’s where I live), and I happened upon two strangers just chattering away.” If horses could blush, he would here, but instead, he just ducks his head a little. “My ma always told me that I was a horrible eavesdropper, and I guess she was right, because that’s what I did. I hid away (I’m a’real good at hiding) and listened in because what they were talking about seemed really important. The big one was all agitated and pacing and the younger one was squeaking something fierce.”

Weed stops long enough to gulp for some air, “Anyway, I don't know if the names Finnley and Kaelie mean anything to either of you, but they kept saying them over and over—and then they kept mentioning the Gates. I didn’t catch everything because there was this damn bee that kept getting in my ears,” he stops for dramatic effect, tears welling in his big green eyes, “but I do know they said something about kidnapping them or killing them and how everyone was going to start fearing them Amazons soon enough.”

There is a long pause where Weed focuses on a spot just behind them, his big eyes going hazy and tears just beginning to well before he blinked rapidly, swallowing hard. “Well, that bee stung me and I was so surprised that I forgot where I was. I yelped and they saw me. I guess they didn’t like my eavesdropping one bit because they started a ruckus.” He motions to the leg, “Beat me up pretty good and told me they’d be back if I ever told anyone what I had heard.” Another small pause, a frown, “But my ma didn’t raise no cowards, and she would have wanted me to tell you all what I heard. Even if I don’t know what it means.”

He paused and then finished lamely, “So I guess that’s why I’m here.”

WEED

© oscar keys