That Don’t Impress Me Much : Part 13

  • Post category:Writing

Wordcount: 350 words
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Summary: May babysits Farris as he attempts to snuggle every hatchling he can, including Baron.

NOTE: This is the first draft of a story, so it will most likely contain plot holes, retcons, and other inconsistencies. I’ll come back and fix things once the story (or arc) is complete!

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Farris vs. Baron

The sun was setting and the excitement was starting to build for tomorrow’s hatching and it was time to head back to the wagon for dinner. May had been given the task of watching Farris and Cybil had reluctantly headed back to her family’s wagon to watch over her own younger siblings.

Since her parents were working on taking down the shop for the night, May and Farris had free reign to wander for a little longer.

May watched her brother accost every fledgling they came across with undisguised glee. The fledglings, on the whole, took it well. They’d been through the gauntlet of children all day and now that things were winding down to the actual event the fledglings were old hat.

The black foxhawk was no exception, although Farris had startled it as it came around the corner. Darting after it with an excited yell. He or she, May was never sure which without looking too closely at bits she was sure were not meant to be inspected, took Farris’s unflagging enthusiasm with calm a response.

The foxhawk and her brother exchanged glances and then Farris broke off unhappily and the foxhawk with something akin to relief.

She caught the foxhawk’s eye as it looked up and the two shared a bemused glance. There was something unifying about dealing with annoying little siblings. Then the foxhawk pricked its ears and made an odd whistling purr.

May frowned at it, unsure if it wanted something.

The foxhawk cocked its head for a moment, then blinked and turned away.

She let out a breath she had not realized she had been holding. Foxhawks did not choose people her age. They did not choose people with her body type. They did not choose people who were not meant to be riders.

But for a moment… she had not been so sure.

She shook her head, clearing the cobwebs, and caught up to her family who had wandered forward along the route. It was bad enough that one of the family was foxhawk crazy, no point in adding to the mess.


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Martha Bechtel

My name is Martha Bechtel and I write fantasy and science fiction stories, paint small model horses silly colors, cast resin and plaster magnets, code random code (and Wordpress plugins)... Come on in and join in the fun!