[Calliope]: 216.Short Stories.Frantic

Frantic

Her nose twitched, the scent caressing it, setting off bells in her mind. She halfheartedly rolled over and opened one eye, noting the luminant orange glow in the sky. So it's dawn, she thought, but that's not what I smell. As she shook the fog from her mind she stretched out, emitting a low moan of pleasure that quickly turned into a gasp of discomfort. Her stomach tingled where she was still heavy with milk. It's not like the pups to miss their midnight snack she pondered as she nuzzeled the closest puppy. The young dog let out a yip before it fell back into a contented sleep. The bells began growing louder as her still sleep shrouded mind struggled to pull things together.

The events slammed into her like a brick wall. She lunged for the mouth of the den, erupting like a flock of birds trying to scatter in all directions but hesitant about where to go first. Her eyes widened as she took in the orange glow to the southwest. The scent was stronger outside, the caress turning into a sweet smelling irritation. The warning bells roared in her ears as her mind screamed, Fire! Once again she was lost about what to do first.

The pups! Of course she must get them to safety! There were to many though, she would never make it on her own. She would have to find Conor. Her mate was the only one she could trust with their fragile lives. But where was he? Her memory scrolled back to their last conversation. The whispers uttered underneath their breath so as not to wake the children. The mind numbing farewell kiss they had shared before Conor left for his week long watch of the town. Of course! He's in the town. She bolted south, towards the village. Running as fast as she could, putting off the change until she was closer.

The ground whizzed under her as she flew towards town. The late night raucous could still be heard telling her that the residents and cisitors had yet to be alerted of the imposing danger. On the fringe of the darkness she halted, enforcing the change. Her joints began to pop. Bones both growing and shrinking. She clamped her eyes tightly shut against the pain as her face absorbed her muzzle and her fingers short forth from her paws, the claws slowly turning into nails. She ran to the place where she and Conor hid their clothes and grabbed the most accessable garment. As she slipped into the moss coloured dress that accented her hazel eyes and unique silver streaked black hair, she strained her hearing, trying to place where Conor might be. Listening intently she finally found him at the pub. Hopefully he hadn't decided to share in the drink with his comrads. Not tonight of all nights.

 She broke from the cover of darkness as if pursued by daemons and in a way she was. She reigned in her terror as she approached the building, not wanting to alarm the humans. Their panic would only worsen the situation. She pushed opent he doors, glancing around the room for Conor even while her eyes were adjusting to the light change. He was at the bar talking to Adam, seemingly oblivious of the fire. She shuffled around tables and overturned chairs. She ignored the lewd glances turned her way. It wasn't often she came into town but she knew that not one man would dare act past those glances for fear of Conor. It was said that he would have their throat amond other various body parts.

He glanced up as she approached, his eyes harbouring questions about why she would leave the pups. He reached his arms out to her and she leaned into him taking on the appearance of the ever accomodating wife. "Fire." she whispered in his ear.

He pushed her away from him as he asked, "Where?"

Before she could answer Adam interrupted them."Muirne, what a surprise! I haven't seen you in town for eons. How are you my dear?" But Muirne just ignored him.

"Coming from the southwest." she said to Conor, "We must move them."

Adam looked confused as Conor abruptly stood up and slid his arm around Muirne's waist, steering her towards the door. She let loose a sigh as they reached the exit. At least the humans were still ignorant of the happenings. Just then the door exploded inward, a large busty woman forcing herself past them.

"Fire!" she shrieked, "Coming from the southwest! Hurry, mobilize the squadron! We must fight it! There's a fire!"

Conor yanked Muirne out the door as they rushed for the darkness. They barely paused to rip off their clothes before they were transformed and running for the den. As they reached the den they stopped to assess the fire' placement. It had spread more to the south. If they didn't hurry they would be surrounded on three sides.

"Quick," said Conor, "we can take them to the old den. It's far but it's across the river and I fear that will be our only chance." Muirne nodded as she entered the den, grasped a pup in her mouth, and slithered out, waiting for Conor to do the same.

The old den, where Conor had been born, wasn't really that far. The problem was that the town was in the way and they would have to skirt it. The residents weren't very kind to wolves or to things they thought to be wolves. The first three trips went as smoothly as could be expected. They could hear the ushered directions and events going on in the town whenever they passed. The humans where to sentimental and would rather risk their lives saving material objects than speeding to safety.

They raced to the den for the last pups. The fire was so close now they could feel it through their fur, smell the singed hair. Muirne dashed into the den and stopped short.

"Conor, there's only one...Where's the other pup Conor?"

Conor entered the den and they frantically searched the limited hiding places. Panic was rising until Muirne found the tracks.

"Lynx." she whispered vehemently, "the smoke must ahve obscured its smell. Trust a slimey cat to stop for a snack when something like this is happening."

"So the loss begins." murmered Conor as he scooped up the last pup. They retured to the mock hell on the surface. Flames dancing all around them. Crackling among the trees and leaping gracefully from branch to branch. The leaves shriveled, raining ash down upon them as they partook in their own dance. A dance against the fire and time. For if they didn't reach the other pups in time. the lynx would surely follow their uncovered tracks and take care of the pups for them.

Muirne and Conor rounded a bend and stopped dead. They now found themselves face to face with the townspeople. Thownspeople who were to frightened to think of letting them go. Townspeople with murder in their eyes. Conor set the pup down gently while he turned to Muirne, love hsimmering in his eyes. "Run" he mouthed and with that he turned and lunnged into the group, hackels raised and teeth flashing. Muirne grabbed the puppy and disappeared back the way they had come.

The shouts and growls from the ongoing battle chased her through the woods. She had fath in Conor though and she grasped onto it in her heart with a white knuckled grip. That is, until she heard the muzzle shot followed by Conor's yelp of pain. Muirne halted and looked around for a hiding place away from the fire to put the pup. She dashed towards the group only to find her way blocked by a growing wall of fire. She could hear activity onthe other side but the shouting was still coming. It must be Conor but she would have to hurry if she wanted to be able to get around the fire. She rushed around the emerging leg of flames and straight into...

..the lynx.

It was like everything was in slow motion. The adrenaline flowing through her veins delayed her pain. The roaring of the fire was muted to her ears. The colours surrounding her appeared dimmer. All her focus was on the lunx and the battle they fought. Fashing one another, gouges oozed blood. Whenever they rolled their fur would burn. They fought as only mythical heroes had fought but time was runnnig out for Muirne. Her strength was wainin, her pup waiting, and even with her muted senses she could hear the mob pursuing Conor. Something would have to happen soon or all would be lost. And then the tides turned. With one wrong step the lynx placed its paw fully in the fire and with a screech of fury, it was gone. Muirne stopped long enough to catch her breath. The boiling air scalding her lungs. She could see Conor now. He was on the other side of the fire, walled in by the townspeople. Muirne didn't think twice about her course of action. With smoldering fur and gaping wounds, while she dripped blood on the forest floor. Muirne jumped.

If the people didn't already believe her and Conor gto be monster's, they would have after seeing her fly through the fire. Landing with hackels raised and teeth bared she resembled a furious, bloody rag equipt with ferocious fangs. The mob stepped back while they tried to register what she was. Muirne noted that a handful of them were missing, assumingly from their battle with Conor. Her mate looked up at her with disbeleif in his eyes. She couldn't keep up her feocity with him looking at her like that. She bent her head to lick a cut on his brow. "If you can't make it out of here, it's not worth it for me to get out." she whispered as she nuzzled him.

"Muirne, the pups." he gasped.

"I ran into the lynx." she explained as pain clouded her eyes, "No matter what it will beat us to our children."

"Oh my beloved." Conor tried to stand beside her but he was too overwhelmed by his injuries.

With her mate lying at her feet, her pups beyond her reach, Muirne turned to face her death sentence. Fury blazed out of her eyes while weapons were raised...

...and...

...then she woke up from the hideous nightmare. Her nose twitching as it was caressed by an out of place scent.

© Angie O'Connor