[Askoga]: 89.Snippets.Kiera's Accounts.26Dec08

December 26, 2008

My day began bright and early, when the father came out to feed the cattle before sunrise. I trotted out to the field with him happily enough, though the elderly Ginger stayed behind. She did wish me a good morning when she came out, though, and took my place on the porch. I barked a cheerful good morning to the cows, which they, of course, didn't understand, and I helped my companion organize them for milking.

“You're a good dog, Girl. You've worked with cows before, haven't you?” The man didn't seem to think it strange at all to talk to his dog. He reached down and scratched between my ears, and I barked happily at him.

After our morning work, we returned to the farmhouse, where I ate. Then, I sat next to the gate and pawed at it, alternately barking and whining. It was time for me to continue on, and I did need to change shapes again soon. Being a dog was fine, but I couldn't let myself forget how to change. I'd come back to this family some day to thank them properly, of course. But for now...well, they'd just have to understand.

It wasn't long before the father came over and looked down at me. “Ready to go already, Girl? I'm sorry, but I ain't gonna let you out. Don't want anything to happen to you before we can find your family.” I pawed at the gate again, whining urgently, but he turned away and went back inside. I abandoned the gate, seeing it was no good, and trotted away to find something else to do.

Later that day, I heard a car drive up, so I trotted around the house to see who it was. Almost immediately, I turned around and ducked under the porch, where Derek wouldn't be able to see me. Ginger, who was on the front porch, as usual, got up and barked a hello to Derek and the two men with him. I whined softly and shrank farther back into the shadows as the three of them stepped onto the porch and rang the doorbell. One of the men bent down to pet Ginger, and I saw him lift up her left paw to look at it. I glanced down at my own left paw and licked at the white patch of fur atop it, wishing it would go away.

“This one's not her, boss,” the man said. Derek grunted quietly, but said nothing.

When the father opened the door, Derek smiled and said, “Hello there! My name's Derek. I'm looking for a girl that went missing a few days ago, and I was hoping you could help. She's a young woman, looks like she's in her early or mid-twenties, with freckles, and a pale birthmark on the back of her left hand. Have you seen her?”

I was glad they'd at least assumed I'd try to find help as a human. That also gave me some warning of what not to do.

“Haven't seen her, mister. Sorry.”

“Well, would you mind if we take a quick look around?”

“No, not at all! Go right ahead.”

Things had just gotten a lot worse for me. I shifted into a mouse and scurried into the smallest niche I could find there under the porch. Hopefully they hadn't brought anyone else along. The two I had seen with Derek were Stationaries, they couldn't change shapes. But if he'd brought along any Variables...well, then I 'd be in a heap of trouble.

It occurred to me that of course he'd brought along a variable. At least one. He wouldn't have come without one. Immediately I scurried out of my hole and shifted into a sparrow. I hopped out from under the porch and took flight. Once I was high enough that I could change without being seen—and without crashing while I did so—I changed into a red-tail hawk and swooped away. I glanced around, and saw a falcon just behind me. He screeched at me, and I ignored him. I knew who it was from the splash of red across his chest. It was Derek's favorite “pet”, Lupin.

I folded my wings close to my chest and dived, gaining speed, and he followed. Laughing inwardly, I pulled out of my dive at the last possible second, and was rewarded for my efforts by the sound of a soft thump as Lupin crashed, not having pulled up soon enough. I glided along, weaving back and forth, then dropped down to the ground and shifted into a horse. I galloped across the fields, past the cows, and eventually slowed down. I shifted forms once more, once I reached a sizable group of milk cows, and became a cow. I dipped my head to graze, and ambled along slowly, as though I hadn't a care in the world.

I stayed with the cows all day, but had to change forms once more and escape from the herd that evening, because I knew the farmer would remember how many he was supposed to have, and would wonder at one extra. So, even though I did spend that night in his barn, it was in the shape of a scrawny, long-haired cat.