Angels in Shaggy Coats

Helena Stone and Brigham Vaughn run the Monday Flash Fic group on Facebook. You get given a picture to use as inspiration for 500-word flash fic. This is my first one.

 The Great Mother does not communicate indirectly through smell or sound or sight or touch. She creates thoughts within the mind. Not words, just the knowledge of what she wants of you. So when the Great Mother told me to go to howling-rock I didn't question it.

Not even once I'd recovered from the shock.

It was soon apparent I'd not be travelling alone. "You too?" I asked my sister, hurrying to catch up with her.

We arrived, and someone was already there. One of you, sitting, his rear limbs hanging over the end of the rock.

Intimidate. Not the word; the emotion and sensation of the action.

I was confused. The creature had done nothing to us, and your kind are dangerous. You can kill from a great distance. Wisdom told us to avoid contact.

Intimidate.

We do not disobey the Great Mother. So, with a glance at my sister, I moved onto the rock, releasing a low growl from my throat.

The creature stiffened, the short hair on the back of its head shifting subtly. It turned, and I saw and smelled its terror. It said something, tried to edge its way along to where it might escape, but my sister moved to block its path.

It began making the strangest sound, and liquid gushed from its eyes. Was it unwell? Something told me we were here to save it, but I could not see how, and now I feared it was close to death and we would fail in our purpose.

My sister headed away from us, perhaps given some new instruction. I sat and watched the creature.

Friendship.

If I didn't know better, I'd have thought the Great Mother was insane. But if the universe had gone mad, that would not have been the first sign.

Friendship.

The Great Mother really wanted me to make nice with one of you. One I'd been threatening and cursing just seconds earlier. But I am obedient, so I gave a little whine, lay down to show submissiveness, friendliness.

After several minutes the creature made a sound, but I could not yet comprehend your language. I could understand an outstretched hand though, and the pleasant tone of its voice, so I moved closer to sniff. Moments later I was discovering a new pleasure.

Your kind are dangerous, but your affection is wonderful.

My sister returned with a couple of pikas in her mouth. Food, and I needed it. The creature did not seem interested in sharing our meal, even though I could smell it had no food with it and we were a long way from any of your kind.

"Why?" I asked the Great Mother as the three of us walked down a short while later.

Wished to fall from sacred place. Asked for sign, should not end life. Could not let this one die yet.

I could not understand why our new friend would wish to end itself, much less how my actions might help.

Showed not ready to die. Showed love comes in many forms.

We reached the lake, and I smelled death. Death caused by one of your death-throwers. Two of your moving machines were on the wide black stinking-stone path, and inside one was the husk of one of your kind. Small, young, and covered in its own blood.

A death-thrower leaves a distinct scent on everything around it for days afterwards, but there was none on our friend from howling-rock. Another of you had done this.

Had our friend found its child's empty husk and seen only the end of its own life, seen no other future? I do not always understand your kind, cannot understand that reaction, but it is the only explanation I can think of.




624 words, so a little over the limit, but cutting down was not easy!