[private] same old story since day one

[Oaks]

OAKS

you look well suited

like you came to win

The dashing of one’s hopes can be a heavy blow to the heart.

Oaks had ventured to the Mountain in search of answers. He had hoped to find something there – an explanation, a cure, a cautionary tale, something. His mother had told him of her own adventures there, in their brief time together, and he’d hoped that perhaps he might share the same luck as to be visited by the fairies. Perhaps they would impart some wisdom to him; perhaps they would teach him something new.

Twice now he’d been met with silence.

He knows, as told by his mother, that the fairies are not always so benevolent. They do not roam Beqanna like their lesser counterparts.

He is not angered by their absence. He does not feel neglected or slighted in any way.

He feels the same as before he’d gone. He feels cursed, lonesome and outcast, heavy-hearted with a hollow chest. He has come no closer to understanding how or why death seems to lurk in his own shadow or when and where it will show itself once again.

For the second time, he leaves the foothills of the Mountain and begins a slow journey home. Perhaps he will seek out Zain and ask him again for help in learning about this burdensome magic. His pace is not hurried; he’s grown accustomed to moving carefully, scanning his surroundings for any would-be victims so that he might avoid them.

But this time he is slightly lost in his thoughts, pensive and curious whether his undead compatriot will be able to help him. So he does not quite notice the rustling in the underbrush of the pine forest until it is too late. Into his path stumbles a furry little creature with an ashy-colored coat and a ringed tail.

Oaks stops in his tracks, head flinching upward slightly, and watches as the raccoon half-flops into the more open trail. Rather than shy away from this encounter, Oaks lowers his head with a gentle inhale, puzzling over the little animal’s odd behavior as he steps carefully closer.

[NPC]

The raccoon has lived a short life compared to some. It has only made it through one winter, struggling somewhat and spending most of his time huddled with the other two young males he’s taken up residence with rather than foraging like he should have.

Spring had treated them better and they had recovered their lost weight, but the young raccoon had been the victim of a violent dispute with a very angry fox one night. He had just captured a mouse (an opportune catch as he’d been grazing on a plentiful bushel of berries) when the tawny offender had confronted him, snapping at his face with near-unprovoked rage.

By the next morning, the little raccoon had fallen ill. Dizziness overtook him and by midday, his legs felt stiff. Alarmed by this near-paralysis, he had fled from their makeshift den and finds himself now wandering (with difficulty) through the forest.

He can hardly gather his bearings as the sunlight burns his eyes. He does not realize he has been walking in a spiraling sort of pattern, constantly looping back on himself as he moves gradually further from his home. His senses are too muddled to even notice his own scent trail among the forest’s undergrowth.

As he breaks through a particularly troublesome patch of brush, he stumbles and lies still for a moment, breathing heavily. How desperately he wants water! He licks his lips, alarmed by the dryness of his mouth, and dares to open his eyes again. Perhaps he has made it somewhere familiar enough by now to know where the nearest stream might be…

When he looks up, though, he is even more startled to see a towering creature looming over him. He has seen deer before, but he has not encountered horses before. His short life has been spent so near to the great mountain that he has not seen the likes of this heavier beast before.

Such is his shock that he does not immediately realize the numbness in his legs has faded slightly, his hearing has cleared up and his head doesn’t hurt quite as much. It’s not until he is habitually moving to stand, squatted on his hind legs to get a better view of this strange visitor, that he realizes he is feeling rather better than he had all day.

a raccoon

[Oaks]

OAKS

you look well suited

like you came to win

Oaks can only stare as the small animal in his path struggles and grows still for a moment. It would seem that the raccoon has fallen victim to his miserable magic just as many others have done. The sight is not unfamiliar, but it is certainly unwelcome; his heart grows heavy when he lowers his head to investigate.

But this case, it turns out, is nothing at all like the others.

The animal seems to catch its breath shortly before opening its eyes, but it startles a bit once it registers the site of the stallion standing near it. It scuttles with some effort up onto its haunches and Oaks tilts his head at the sight. He has seen raccoons before – he’s spent so much time sulking in the forests of Beqanna that he’s encountered nearly all of the more generic fauna – but hasn’t seen one hold its ground like this.

Likewise, he has never encountered a creature affected by rabies. He had not seen the raccoon’s prior looping walk, is unaware of the animal’s partial paralysis or its failing senses. What he does notice is the light frothing around its mouth and the faint sway in its body as it stands there gazing at him. He has seen animals in similar states as this before…usually not long before their expiration.

But this little raccoon seems suddenly well, as compared to its initial appearance.

Carefully, he takes another small step nearer, intrigued by its abrupt resilience.

He is tempted to speak to it but he knows better – he’d tried such ventures in the past, thinking surely Beqanna’s magic would have gifted all creatures their own voices, only to be greeted with silence and perceivable confusion.

But he does murmur a quiet observation – “what’s happened to you?” – as he further appraises the raccoon’s appearance. He wonders to himself how this animal has managed to resist his curse, how it is defying the death that had already been haunting it. The wounds on its face, still rather bright in color due to their freshness, and (not for the first time) Oaks wishes he possessed more useful gifts such as healing. At the very least, he could have knitted the poor creature’s wounds back together and sent it on its way to apparently continue living a healthy life.

Perhaps it is this wish, his desire to help rather than harm, which triggers the temporary gift the fairies had given him during his Mountain visit. He is unaware of this gift just as he is unaware of his other magic, but his unconscious desire to see the raccoon well again triggers the suppression to take effect.

Oaks, however, will never realize this connection.

[NPC]

The horse steps even closer and the raccoon takes a deep breath of both awe and fear.

Did it intend to trample him? Was it going to snap at him as the fox had done?

He sits frozen before the tall beast, staring upward with his small brown eyes and a racing heart. For a moment, he is unsure what to do, but then the larger animal speaks to him and the raccoon is utterly perplexed.

He has never heard another animal speak to him before; only his raccoon brethren have ever conversed with him in their native tongue. But these words he understands – ‘what’s happened to you?’ – spoken with a heavy tone of wonder.

The raccoon now tilts his head as well; the pair would appear rather comical, if anyone happened to see them. With a twitch of his rounded ears, the raccoon ventures an answer: “I was attacked.” He’s not sure why he’s bothering to explain himself to this giant stranger, but it surely couldn’t hurt.

By now he’s realized that whatever affliction had befallen him earlier has seemed to subside. Like his equine companion, he is unaware of the reason for this change and even less aware of its temporary timespan. But for now, he is happy to have regained his mobility, stretching his short legs out as he lowers himself back to all-fours.

“I was looking for food. The fox was very angry with me.” He tries to continue his brief tale, swiping one paw at his small muzzle and licking his lips again. “Is there water nearby?” In the case that this other animal might understand him, he asks for help the only way he knows how.

a raccoon

[Oaks]

OAKS

you look well suited

like you came to win

Compared to its initial appearance, the raccoon has significantly improved already. It continues to stare back at Oaks with all the wonder of a small mammal, but it especially perks up when the stallion speaks aloud.

Had the creature understood him?

Oaks blinks his rusty-colored eyes back at the little animal as his mind continues its slow whirl of confusion. Not only had the raccoon warded off its impending death, but it seems to have gotten better altogether. This, for Oaks, is a brand new facet of his presumed curse. Never before has he seen any form of life survive his presence once the magic took effect.

The raccoon is chittering to him in its high-pitched little voice, its words unintelligible to the appaloosa. Its ears twitch, its head tilts, it wipes at its face as if to indicate the small gashes there. Its body language nearly seems to suggest that it had somehow registered his words, but surely that was not possible. Barring magical intereference, Oaks has never encountered another animal that could respond with great intelligence to the words of his language.

He chuffs softly, tucking his nose a bit when the raccoon settles back onto all four feet and gazes up at him as if awaiting some kind of answer. Oaks notes that some of the foam that had gathered around his mouth before is wiped away now, but remnants still linger. This is somewhat unsettling to Oaks’ mind, as he’s only seen more vicious predators froth at the mouth before during their zealous hunts and frenzied meals. Surely, though, the raccoon poses no such threat.

Regardless, as he is in no position to aid the poor creature (and still fully believes that his presence will only cause its eventual demise), he straightens a bit more, lifting his head. “I’m afraid I cannot help you, little one,” he says dismissively to it, turning to give it some berth as he continues on his path back to Pangea.

[NPC]

For just those few moments, the raccoon had hoped that his plea might be heard.

Surely a creature so big as the horse would know where to find water. But it seems that his own words have not broken the language barrier of his species, despite the raccoon having clearly understood him just now. His question goes unanswered as the blanketed beast studies him curiously and the raccoon despairs.

When the larger animal speaks again, it is only to rebuff him, declaring that he cannot help. The raccoon’s ears twitch again upon recognizing the words, though they have already begun to sound a bit foreign and fuzzy again. As the horse moves away, stepping around him at a respectful distance, the smaller animal seems to droop a little.

At the same time, the pain in his head returns at an almost alarming rate. His vision blurs a bit with static at the edges and he feels his limbs beginning to stiffen once more. A strangled sort of cry leaves his mouth, which has also gone abruptly dry again, and he tries to turn to follow the strange giant.

Unfortunately, he only manages to take a few steps after the horse before his sight is fully clouded once more. Breathing seems more difficult, he can feel the froth building rapidly on his lips, and he resumes his strange spiral-patterned walk from before.

The horse does not stop to look back, either unaware of his plight or simply unwilling to watch it.

a raccoon

xxEND